Spitfire Thread (WIP)

>So, the Wonderbolts.
>You've heard about their acrobatic skills being amazing, and how well received all of their shows were.
>You took that as the perfect opportunity to repay Dash for all those rounds of cider she's bought your drunk ass.
>Mostly because whenever SHE was drunk, that's all she'd fucking talk about.
>She'd talk about her dreams of flying with them, all her adventures in their recruit-training camp thing, and how much she looked up to the Captain of the team, Spitfire.
>Which is why you also paid in advance for some backstage passes.
>The shit pretty much took every last bit of the retirement money you decided to save for this place.
>...Actually, it DID take every last bit.
>You wasted every goddamn cent.
>But, you guessed that you'd probably never get a chance to retire, anyways.
>Knowing the Elements of Harmony really made sure it was impossible to be bored here.
>"Come on, come on, let's get the good seats while we can! You walk sooo SLOW!!"
"Then just fly over and grab us a seat! I'm sure I'd be able to spot you from a mile away."
>You brush a lock of her mane with a smile.
>She scrunches and slaps your hand away.
>"Whatever."
>She darts off.
>You get the general area she's going to, and start walking.
>Since you're grounded, you're stuck with all the old ponies and non-Pegasi ponies.
>And though there's a fuckton of people, nobody's getting pushed or trampled, which is a wonderful plus in your book.
>You thought for a second that these ponies would go apeshit for a good seat to this show, from everything you heard about it.
>You figured it'd be the equivalent of a seventy two inch being on sale for two hundred bucks.
>But you've, so far, been pleasantly surprised.
>You finally worm your way out of the crowd and spot Rainbow looking around, trying to spot you first.
>Then she sees you, probably just as quickly as you did, her.
>Because being six fuckin' feet tall really makes you stand out in this place.

>Hell, some ponies even went so far as to think you were some kind of god, just because nobody had a fucking clue what you were.
>You walk down the steps of the huge-ass cloud stadium to the row where Rainbow's at, being rushed and stared at the whole time.
>"Sheesh, could you go any SLOWER?!"
"Yes, actually, so don't test me."
>"Just hurry up! These are really great seats!"
>You look at the stairs, seeing how horribly huge the distance from the bottom to the top is.
>You curiously take a quick peek over the edge of the stadium, seeing a huge fucking drop to the floor, guarded only by a flimsy metal bar.
>Well, as long as you didn't trip, you probably wouldn't fall over it.
>But that doesn't change how fucking scary it is.
>You sit down beside Rainbow, eyes never leaving the enormous drop into the ground mere inches from your current position.
"If I fucking die, I'm hoping they write that it's all your fault on my grave."
>Rainbow rolls her eyes.
>"Stop being such a wimp! You're not even that close to the edge!"
"Says the one who's half my size. You also have wings, so you don't HAVE a reason to be paranoid about this shit."
>"Whatever."
>You sit back in your seat and continue staring at the gaping pit below.
>After a minute, you hear a soft crackle over the stadium's speakers.
>"THE SHOW WILL START IN ABOUT FIFTEEN MINUTES!"
>You sigh.
"Wish I had some bits on me... I could be eating a damn pretzel, right now."
>"...Sucks to be you!"
"You know what, it DOES suck to be me! I don't even have a future anymore, because it went all to this!"
>She simply shrugs.
>"I say it's money well spent."
"Easy for YOU to say... But it better be true, or I'll regret the shit out of this day when I'm dumpster diving behind Sugarcube Corner."
>You sigh again and watch all these ponies settling into their seats.
>There's a fucking lot of them, to say the least.
>"Trust me, this'll be the best day of your LIFE!"
>You blankly nod.
"Followed by the worst, if I were to guess."

>"Oh, stop being such a DRAMAQUEEN! Not even Rarity complains as much as you do!"
"Because she doesn't complain- she WHINES about everything."
>Too much, you'd like to add.
>Like, hell, while the Elements had so many likeable qualities in them, they also had a few bad ones that only made it possible to enjoy them all in small doses.
>Except Applejack, honestly.
>She had her fair share of shit, but her honesty didn't really make it that bad.
>Instead of crying and disregarding everyone and everything, she'd just accept that she's sad and try to fix it.
>But you think that maybe she cries on the inside a little bit more.
>Maybe she seems fine because she blocks everything bad to the back of her mind?
>You mentally shrug.
>Or maybe you're just overthinking this shit, like you usually do with everything.
>"THE SHOW WILL START IN FIVE MINUTES!"
>You groan.
>It's only been ten fucking minutes?
>It feels like you've just sat through the Indy 500 without any breaks or interruptions.
>You're even being more impatient than Rainbow here.
>And she's REALLY impatient.
>Hell, the first time she came to invite you to a bar, she left because you took thirty seconds in the bathroom.
>But here you are, wishing on every deity this place has to make these last five minutes hurry the fuck up.
>You turn and see Rainbow just patiently sitting down, looking over the show's schedule with a completely calm demeanor.
>And you're trying to figure out how you've kept yourself from just clawing your fucking eyes out.
>"EVERYPONY ATTENDING THE SHOW PLEASE BEGIN MAKING YOUR WAY TO A SEAT!"
>Thank fucking Christ.

>You start to feel a lot less bored once you notice the amount of un-seated ponies gradually decreasing.
>Then finally, when the last few ponies in your line of sight sit down, you hear another voice through the speakers.
>"So, Equestria... Are you all ready for a SHOW?!"
>Rainbow squees and giddily shakes your shoulder.
>"T-that's Spitfire talking!"
>The audience stomps and cheers in response to the speaker chatter.
>"That's what I like to hear! So, then, without further ado, I present to you... the WONDERBOLTS!"
>Right on cue, a few streaks of smoke glide out from under the stadium and twirl into a small bunch, before flying a good ways and breaking off into a bunch of other directions, like some kind of firework.
>Rainbow gasps and roughly shakes your shoulder again.
>"I can't believe I'm actually SEEING this!!"
>The excitement in her voice is definitely noticeable.
>It almost makes wasting your future life-savings worth it.
>...Almost.
>"So, do WE have a show for YOU! As well as the old favorite moves, we'll be throwing in a few practices from our up-coming performance, representing Cloudsdale in the first annual Equestria Games!"
>Everyone cheers in response.
>"So, let's get this show on the ROAD!"
>

>...That.
>That was fucking boring.
>You actually blanked out during that shit.
>Hell, it was exciting and cool the first few loops, but after that, it kinda was just the same stuff you'd see from the Blue Angels back home.
>It just seemed like a regular, routine thing.
>Like something that's been done and rehearsed a million times.
>It may be cool in person, but it's nothing original.
>And you've never even SEEN any of their shows before.
>You were just expecting some more... excitement.
>Like some crazy-ass stunts that make you freak the fuck out, thinking that the person doing them would just explode if an inch off.
>But no.
>You got some boring-looking circus act.

>You mean, the show was good, but with all the goddamn money, all the years you just sent yourself back for in order to see this, you feel kinda cheated.
>You sigh for about the thirtieth time today.
>Well this fucking sucks.
>"Didn't you say that these are backstage passes?"
>...Oh, right.
>You forgot about that.
>Well, if there's any wonder why the goddamn tickets are so expensive, there's your reminder.
"Yeah."
>"-W-well then, what are we doing HERE?! LET'S GO!"
>She darts into the air.
>You watch her small rainbow trail land on the top part of the stadium.
>...On the other fucking side.
>You sigh.
>You wish you had some goddamn wings.
>You start slowly making your way through the seats.
>
>After about half an hour, you finally make it to the booth where Rainbow Dash was.
>The bodyguard stallion guy looks up at you blankly.
>"Pass?"
>You flash your VIP badge, and he scoots to the side, pulling a curtain back and allowing you to enter.
>Immediately, you see Rainbow just chatting up the members of the flight team.
>She's stuttering an awful lot.
>And a quick look around the room tells you that you're apparently the only one that was retarded enough to pay the ridiculous VIP fee.
>Everyone in the room pauses and looks at you.
>Rainbow grins.
>"Oh, see! That's Anon!"
>You shyly walk up to the group and wave.
>The one closest to you, a yellow mare with a fiery mane, pulls her sunglasses down with an incredibly shocked expression.
>"Jeez, Rainbow, I know you said he's tall, but WOW! He might even be taller than Celestia!"
>The light blue stallion in the group just slowly nods.
"Uh, yeah, I've gotten that a lot..."
>The yellow one walks a bit closer to you.
>"So... Anon, huh?"
>You merely nod.
>She holds a hoof up to you.
>"I'm Spitfire, the Captain of this team!"
>You nod again and offer a small smile.

>You shake while keeping that smile.
>You know how shit you are at acting, but you're hoping that you won't seem as uninterested about all of this as you actually are.
>Spitfire puts her glasses back on her face and gives this cocky grin.
>"So, then, how'd you like the show?"
>She strikes a heroic pose.
>You bite your lip.
>Though you feel the need to act here, she DID ask for your opinion...
>You instinctively shrug.
"Eh, it was alright."
>Spitfire's glasses fall off.
>All the other members just look at you like you told them you eat babies.
>Rainbow is shocked to all hell as well.
>As if she saw you spit in Celestia's face.
>"W...what? Really?"
>You look back at Spitfire.
"Well... yeah. I was just expecting more cool stuff to happen, I guess."
>She takes her sunglasses, folds them, then puts them on a table.
>Then she seems to just stare through you for a moment.
>"You know... in my entire career as a Wonderbolt, not ONCE have I EVER had a fan come in through those doors and say our performance was just... 'ALRIGHT'."
>She glares at you.
>...Oh shit, you didn't really piss her off, did you?
>Hell, it was just your opinion- you didn't mean to get kicked out or some shit!
>Will they at least give you a fucking refund for this?
>"...Have you been to any of our other performances?"
>You blink, then shake your head.
>Spitfire just looks off to the side.
>"...Huh..."
>Rainbow Dash growls to get your attention, then waves you over to talk in private.
>You move over to a corner of the place, all while the other team members just continue talking, or looking at you.
>"W-what are you DOING?!"
"What?"
>"You can't just come into here and say something like, THAT!"
"Well, they DID ask for my opinion... I wasn't trying to be rude, but I wasn't gonna lie about it, either- it's not like we'll see these guys everyday."
>"S-still! You just... SAID that! To SPITFIRE!"
>You shrug.
>She just groans.
>"Celestia, Anon, just... DON'T ruin this for me, okay?"

>You shrug again.
"Alright, jeez, I didn't know my opinion was so unwanted here."
>You're interrupted by Spitfire walking up to you.
>"...You said that you were expecting more 'cool' things to happen... right?"
>You glance at Rainbow.
>She's glaring so fucking hard right now you're scared your face will melt.
"Uhh... umm..."
>"Cool things like what?"
>You turn back to her and think.
>Well, if you're just talking about cool things, you should be fine... right?
>Rainbow keeps glaring.
>Well, this Spitfire pony genuinely looks interested in your opinion...
>It can't hurt, right?
>You shrug.
"Well, guess I was expecting more daredevil-type stuff to go down- more sharp turns, flies by the crowd, split-second saves... I dunno."
>She seems to process your words for a moment.
>"Well... good to know..."
>She simply walks away.
>Alrighty, then.
>You look up and see Rainbow glaring once again.
>"S-SERIOUSLY?!"
>You raise your hands defensively.
"She didn't seem pissed off about it, so what's the big deal?"
>She just groans, then walks over to the team to 'apologize' for your behavior.
>You just put your hands in your pockets and internally shrug.
>Well, she fucking ASKED for your opinion...

>You roll your eyes and walk over to a table filled with snacks and drinks.
>You simply grab a water and some crackers.
>The second you throw one in your mouth, you scope in and hear Rainbow calling you a 'careless monkey that doesn't know what he's doing'.
>You huff.
>Let's see who wastes anymore money on YOU now, missy.
>You angrily throw another cracker in your mouth and start chewing.
>The light blue stallion walks up to you and pulls his goggles up.
>"Hey."
>You tip an invisible hat and try your damndest to swallow the crackers.
>They're really fucking salty.
>They're drying the shit out of your mouth.
>"...So... 'alright', huh?"
>You take a quick swig of water and clear your throat.
"Look, just to be clear, I didn't mean to offend any of you guys. I just-"
>"-We're WORSE than alright."
>You pause.
"Uh... what?"
>He moves to your side and stares at the floor with a sigh.
>"Look, just between you and me... the Wonderbolts are dying, man."
>He looks up at you with a saddened look.
>"I think the majority of us have known, but just haven't said, or done, anything about it."
>His eyes trail over to the other members of the team and Dash.
>"I guess you just, finally said what was on everypony's mind, here."
>You just stay silent.
>You're not even sure how to respond.
>You're just some guy who paid for backstage passes with his future, and this guy's talking to you like he's known you since high school.
>"I'm Soarin', by the way."
>He turns and lifts his hoof up to you.
>You shake it and nod.
"Anon."
>He just nods in return.
>"...You know, you're not like everypony else."
>You look down at your six foot tall, fleshy alien self.
"Only by a bit."
>He notices the sarcasm in your voice and just smiles.
>"Not like that."
"Like what, then?"
>He nods at Rainbow Dash.
>"Well for starters, you're not as enthusiastic as most ponies in your position would be. You don't seem to care that we're celebrities here."

>You shrug.
"I only ever heard about you guys from Dash."
>He nods.
>"That, too. When Spitfire walked up to you and asked about the performance, you didn't even resistate to tell her what you thought. You just, told her immediately."
>He stops, then softly laughs.
>"Hay, not even I would ever have the courage to say that to Spitfire. She can be pretty scary."
>You look over at the mare in question.
>...Yeah, you can see some pretty big hints of scary.
>By pony standards, at least.
>"But she's the one I worry about the most, in all of this. You told her what everyone in the team was thinking, but the only reason we never talked about it was because of her."
>You watch her, faking a laugh at something Dash said.
>Dash makes the worst jokes.
>"The Wonderbolts is her LIFE... I mean, day in and day out, she puts countless hours into the team. If she's not out training new recruits, signing them up, taking care of us, setting up gigs, making flight plans, practicing, or doing loads of paperwork for the team, then she's asleep... And the only reason she DOES sleep, is because she doesn't want to risk getting dizzy, and possibly hurting one of us."
>His eyes simply trail over to the floor.
>"We're all just worried that she won't know what to do once the team's gone for good... And, with you two being the ONLY VIPs this time around here, I'm thinking that we're losing business a lot quicker than I thought before."
>A small silence crawls between you two.
>You silently stuff a cracker in your mouth and start crunching.
"That, uh... sucks."
>He nods.
>"You're darn right it sucks. While Spitfire's our Captain, I've spent nearly half my life with this team. Just, seeing it all go down the drain is the worst feeling I've ever experienced in my whole life. These guys are like my second family, and though I have a back-up plan, it sucks knowing that every single bit of time I've spent with them will be all... for nothing..."

"Well, not necessarily."
>His ears perk up at your words.
"If you truly believe them all to be your second family, do you really think that you'd all just, lose contact?"
>He puts a hoof to his muzzle in thought.
"And, knowing exactly how losing family feels, I can tell you right now, that you're being really negative about it."
>He stops, and looks at you.
"-Look. Does losing someone close to you hurt? You're goddamn right it does. But, that still doesn't mean you need to make it hurt anymore than it should. Instead of thinking about the ones you've lost, you're supposed to remember the things you've done."
>He completely faces you, looking up at you curiously.
"You've heard the saying that misery loves company, right?"
>He nods.
"Well, it's because it's much easier to keep yourself down than it is up. You're focusing more on what you're feeling now, than the times you weren't. You're supposed to cherish the good times you've had, the struggles you've all overcome, and how you felt during those times... Choosing what to remember about the ones you've lost is the difference between horrible depression, and a quick recovery. I should know."
>He softly snorts.
>"What do you know about losing family?"
>You just stare at him.
"...Have you ever seen another being that looks like me? Ever? In your LIFE?"
>He opens his mouth to speak, then slowly shakes his head.
>You nod.
"Yeah, you wouldn't; I'm the only one of my species on this entire planet, I'm sure. But, before I, well... 'showed up' here, I had a family, I had friends, and hell, I even had a job that I thoroughly enjoyed. But now, it's all gone, and all I have left with me after four years in Equestria, are the good memories I can recall, and the occasional dream every now and then. That's what's kept me going."
>He puts a hoof to his muzzle again, mulling over your words.
>He finally manages a soft smile, then glances over at the other Wonderbolts.
>"Yeah... yeah, I guess you have a point, there..."

>His smile grows a bit.
>"...A really good point."
>He glances over at the others.
>His smile widens.
>He looks up at you, now with a small hint of water in his eyes.
>"Thanks, Anon... I've, well, never actually thought about what you've said, before. I'm just... I guess I'm glad that I heard it now, and not after everything went down the toilet, you know?"
>You nod.
>You just wished you would have, four years ago.
>Soarin' just beams, having found a new reason to smile.
>"Look, after this, we're all planning on heading over to a bar... I think that Spitfire could actually use more than a few of your words. Especially now."
>You both turn to the mare in question, smiling and laughing with the other members of the team.
>"...I know her way too well, and though you probably can't tell... I think your words hit a lot closer to home than you think."
>You frown and scan her, trying to find any sign that what Soarin's saying is true.
>"-Even though I'm probably the only one who's seen her scary side and lived to talk about it, I'll tell you right now that she's not heartless. Spitfire, surprisingly, has feelings, and they're actually pretty easy to spot."
>He scoots a little closer and nudges you.
>"Watch for the little things... See how she messes with her mane and glances at her hooves every once and a while?"
>A minute after after he says that, you see Spitfire slightly blow at her hair, then look at her hooves, just before straightening out and keeping her spot in the conversation.
"Yeah."
>He nods.
>"That means something's really bothering her. And you can take a wild guess as to what that something is."
>You feel a quick pang of guilt.
>...You didn't expect your words to have such a big impact on her, or anyone else, on this team.
>And now it's difficult to NOT feel like complete shit.
>Soarin' notices, and nudges you again.
>"Look, don't feel that bad about it, okay? You only said what we've ALL had on our minds for the past few months..."

"Not like I had to, though..."
>"-Yes, you did. If you haven't got her thinking about the future already, then she never will. It's good that she's heard it from somepony else now, instead of putting the pieces together later."
>You nod, but still feel like shit.
>"I just hope that Spitfire will come to terms with it before it happens..."
>You slowly nod again, then pop another cracker into your mouth.
>In the corner of your eye, you see a stallion peeking his head through the door.
>"Guys, it's nine. Start packing it up."
>All the conversations stop, and goodbyes start being shared with Rainbow.
>Once she's had a chance to hug as many of the team members as she can, she slowly starts making her way to you.
>Soarin' nudges you again.
>"You're coming with us to the bar, right, Anon?"
>You rub the back of your neck.
"Would I be able to bring a guest?"
>You turn to Dash, and he follows your eyes.
>"Oh, yeah, that's cool. She can come."
>You just nod and smile.
"Thanks."
>He returns another nod and walks over to regroup with the others.
>"What was with all the nodding?"
>You take a quick sip of water while Rainbow walks up to you.
"Me and Soarin' were just talking."
>Her ears perk up.
>"Really? About what?"
>You pause.
"...Ah, you know, guy stuff. Morning wood and everything."
>She scrunches.
>"Didn't need to know about that."
>You just shrug in return.
"You asked."
>She rolls her eyes, then starts walking for the entrance.
>She pauses and sees you at the table, just standing there.
>"Uh, aren't you coming?"
>You shake your head and finish off your water.
"We're going to a bar with them."
>She flies over to your side with a hopeful grin on her face.
>"R-really?! W-with th-the WONDERBOLTS?!"
>Everyone stops and stares at her.
>You just nod.
>She beams.
>"-OMIGOSH, YEEESSS!"
>She wraps her hooves around your waist and crushes you with a hug.
>"BEST. DAY. EVER!"

>You kind of just awkwardly stand there while she hugs you.
>Soarin' just watches with an amused smile.
"...So... shouldn't we get going?"
>"Oh, aheheh, yeah..."
>She breaks the hug and steps away, blushing lightly.
>"Alright, the carriage is here!"
>You turn and see Soarin' peeking out of the window.
>He waves you over, then walks outside with the others.
>You follow, and immediately see a carriage manned by four Pegasi stallions, floating a few feet from the ground.
>You're not even on a road, but you guess that's the convenience of having wings.
>"Yo, come on, Anon!"
>Soarin' just watches Dash fly in, then waits for you.
>You kind of just try climbing into the thing.
>The minute you latch on, the whole carriage tilts towards you.
>You can hear a few yelps from inside.
>"WOAH, WOAH, JEEZ!"
>Soarin' quickly flies over and helps you into it.
>Everyone on the inside just glares at you.
"S-sorry. No wings..."
>A light blue pony just rolls her eyes.
>You quickly take a seat and just stay still, pretending that you don't notice all the angry looks trying to crush your soul at the moment.
>Soarin comes back in and sits beside you.
>"-Hey Soarin, why'd you have to invite THIS guy? I mean, first he mocks our performance, then he nearly wrecks the carriage! You know that the VIP treatment doesn't include taking ponies with us wherever we go!"
>Jesus, this one sure isn't subtle about hating your guts at ALL.
>"Sheesh, Fleetfoot, give the guy a chance! He's pretty cool! Right, Anon?"
"...Uh, I-"
>The carriage jerks forward and starts moving.
>You get flung forwards and smash your face in the seat, right between Fleetfoot and Spitfire.
>Fleetfoot starts giggling.
>You just feel like disappearing right now.
"Y-yeah, I'm super cool..."

>Spitfire helps you up and to your seat.
>But she just has this blank look on her while doing so.
"Th-thanks."
>She simply nods, then looks to the side, enjoying the view from the sky.
>You sigh and just stare at the floor.
>Conversation quickly erupts between the others, and Dash is trying her hardest to be apart of it.
>Soarin' hops into it as well, and you're really just left staring at the floor of the carriage, half because you feel you don't belong, and half because you want to stay acquainted with the ground, instead of seeing yourself move through the air without a harness or seatbelt.
>After a few moments, Soarin' softly nudges you with a hoof and looks over at Spitfire.
>You follow his eyes and just see the mare in question staring out into the clouds, propping herself up with a hoof.
>And unlike the others, she still has that skin-tight uniform thing on.
>You can only imagine how uncomfortable and hot that thing probably is.
>But she doesn't seem to notice.
>Or care.
>Soarin' nudges you again.
>He obviously wants you to talk to her.
>You sigh.
>How did you get roped in as a psychiatrist for an entire team of elite flyers?
>And why couldn't you get business like this back home?
>There's plenty of damn crazy people needing help there, for sure.

>You look back up at her.
>She's got her eyes closed, mind most likely occupied with other things than the view.
>You don't really have any experience in psychiatry, either.
>You just helped your dad out at his place, being the REAL psychiatrist.
>Though he tried to teach you a few things...
>Things that your GPA obviously didn't give a shit about.
>You hop to the other seat, thankfully not needing to squeeze in, on account of Fleetfoot and some other yellow pony having a hoof-wrestling contest towards the other end.
>Soarin' gives you a quick nod, then gets in on the action.
>Spitfire's obviously aware of your existence, and is waiting for you to say something, if her perked ears are anything.
"...Is everything alright?"
>She turns to you, with that blank look on her face, slowly becoming irritated.
>"Yes."
>You just pause.
>Alright, come on, Anon, think, THINK!
>Use that second-hand knowledge to good use!
"...Are you sure?"
>"Yes."
>Damn.
>Well, it was worth a shot.
>"Hey, we're here!"
>You feel the carriage touch the ground and stop.
>Everyone flies out, and you're left to just cautiously get off.
>They all flew off really fucking quickly.
>You sigh and touch the ground.
>Then, well, you realize that you're on the ground.
>With being in a floating cloud city, you really thought your stop was going to be a floating cloud bar.
>And even better, the bar was the one you always went to here in Ponyville.
>The adeptly named, 'Ponyville Bar'.
>You watch everyone practically run in, then slowly catch up to them.
>You push the door open and smile, that lovely scent of cider and crushed dreams washing over you like a beautiful blanket.
>Everyone quickly moves and makes their way over to the huge booth in the corner.
>Everyone except Spitfire.
>She sits at the bar, waiting for the bartender to finish serving a few other drinks.
>Once you start walking over, the bartender comes by and looks at her.
>"Scotch, neat."
>You lift a finger.
"Make it two."
>Then you sit.

>Holy shit, that was pretty cool.
>You walked in at the perfect moment.
>It was like a fucking dramatic movie scene, just coming in the second she had asked about the drin-
>"-What do you want?"
>You pause, then shake your head.
"Just ordering a drink. This IS my go-to bar, after all."
>Cherry Berry smiles and nods while picking out two glasses.
>"Anon here holds his liquor like a CHAMP!"
>A small smile forms on your face.
>Of course you took these drinks like a champ- they had hardly any alcohol in them.
>Hell, the only reason Rainbow ever paid for your drinks was because she'd fruitlessly try and try again to beat you in a drinking contest.
>Then, she'd always pass out, leaving you to carry her to another friend's home, or just take your bed while you grabbed the couch.
>And Cherry Berry oversaw every single contest.
>Spitfire just grunts in response, then stares forward.
>Not soon after, Cherry slides the glasses over to you.
>You take yours and casually sip it.
>And, of course, there's no burn or anything.
>You just enjoy the flavor of it, really.
>Spitfire takes a larger gulp, then sets it down with a sigh.
>There's long silence between you both.
>It's a big change from the rowdy booth in the corner of the place.
>You casually take another sip.
>She downs the rest of the drink and practically slams the thing down.
>You wave Cherry back over for another drink.
>Pretty much instantly, another full glass is slided over to you.
>You nudge it closer to her, and she pushes it away.
>"I can pay for my own drinks."

"So can I. You turning down a free drink?"
>She shakes her head and glares at you.
>"I'm turning down a drink from YOU."
>...Ouch.
>You just turn back to your drinks and down the extra one.
>You honestly don't know how you're going to pay for this shit.
>Hell, it was only your retirement fund, but now you feel like you have this huge hole in your wallet, and have to start saving to feel whole again.
>You sigh and down the other drink.
>Screw this, then.
>You're at a bar, why not drink your wallet and sorrows away?
"Ey, Cherry, you don't have anything stronger, do you? One hundred proof, or something?"
>She drops the glass she was cleaning and just stares at you.
>"O-one HUNDRED proof?!"
>You just nod.
"I'd actually like to drink to forget, this time around."
>She crouches and starts picking up the pieces.
>"I-I've never heard of any drink as strong as THAT before!"
>You sigh.
>Figures.
"What's the strongest you've got, then?"
>"W-well, that would be ten proof, in shots..."
>You nod.
"Just get five shots and throw them into a glass, please."
>She looks at you like you're crazy.
>"A-are you SURE? I-I know you're not a pony, but th-that could send you to the hospital!"
>You nod.
>She drops the shattered pieces into the trash and just looks at you.
>"Well, alright, Anon..."
>You just watch as she takes an orange-colored bottle and pours it into one small glass, then into a larger one.
>She does this five times, then slowly drags it across the bar, over to you.
>"I-if you start feeling bad, j-just tell me. I don't want you to get hurt, Anon..."
>You nod.
"Appreciate the concern, Cherry."
>You just take the drink and down it in a second.
>You're barely feeling it.
>Cherry stares at you, scared out of her mind.
>Out of your peripherals, you can see Spitfire just glancing at you.
"Could I get another?"
>Cherry just continues staring, dumbfounded.
>"H-how d-did you... h-how did you DO that?"

>You just shrug.
"Soo... could I?"
>She closes her mouth and slowly nods.
>In a minute, another glass is slided over to you.
>"P-PLEASE don't hurt yourself, Anon... Y-you know your limits, right?"
>You nod.
"It's probably much more than what you serve, for sure."
>You sigh and down the drink again.
>You're getting a very, VERY faint buzz, now.
>It's the closest you've ever gotten to being drunk, here.
"Just, ah, keep 'em coming, would you, Cherry?"
>"-U-uh, s-sure, Anon..."
>You just nod again and start staring at all the bottles laid in the back.
>After a second, you notice that Spitfire's still glancing at you every once and a while.
>You don't turn to look at her, and another glass comes sliding your way.
>You hold it up to your mouth, then stop.
"You know, I can see you looking at me. If you've got something to say, say it already."
>The tone in your voice is much colder than you thought it would be.
>She gets taken back a bit, but stays silent.
>You simply sigh again, for about the thirtieth time today.
>You down the drink again.
>It's like juice, but with a bit of alcohol in it.
>It's really not cutting it for you.
>But, it's also the best you've got, here.
>There's a round of laughter coming from the back booth.
>Spitfire finally asks for another drink, and one is taken over to her.
"Why aren't you over there with your Wonderbolt buddies, anyways? I thought you were the Captain."
>She remains silent.
>You grab your sixth drink today and take a long sip, trying this time to savor the taste.
>"Well, why aren't you with Rainbow Dash? I thought you were her coltfriend-"
>You spit your drink and catch yourself with your hands.
>It gets all over your suit and slacks.
"Oh, fuck me."
>Cherry rushes over with a dickload of napkins and hoofs them to you.

>You start wiping them down, shaking your head.
"I've been friends with Rainbow for four years. We're not a 'thing', and we never will be; I've already thought about it, and I'm just not into mares."
>Spitfire nods, watching you dry yourself.
>"...So, you like stallions, then?"
>You snap to her like a fucking meerkat.
"No, I'm not gay! I just..."
>You sigh and set the napkins on the bar.
"I still like human women the most. Even if there aren't any left..."
>Her ears perk up a bit, and she takes a small sip of her drink.
>"...Aren't any left?"
>You straighten yourself in your seat and just look at her.
"Do I look like a dragon to you? Or a minotaur? Griffon? I'm the only one of my species, here. Human women are nowhere to be seen on this planet."
>"So, are you some kind of alien, then?"
"Well, seeing as how my planet had seven billion of us, as well as horses that didn't talk, I'd say yes, I AM an alien."
>"-How'd you get here?"
>You shrug.
"I just remember being in a car crash, then ending up here. If this is some kind of afterlife, or evidence that the multiverse theory is actually a thing, I'm still not sure."
>She just stares at you, confused.
"...I'm pretty sure I died on my planet, then ended up here."
>She nods, fidgeting around with her glass.
>You get another one given to you.
>You simply take a sip, then continue staring at the back of the bar.
>"...I'm sorry."
>Your train of thought comes crashing down.
>You blink and turn to Spitfire.
"What?"
>"For, uh, being... rude, earlier... I'm sorry. I know I've got a bit of a temper on me."
>You wave your hand dismissively.
"You haven't seen me."
>She raises a brow.
>"Really? YOU'VE got a temper? That's a bit hard to believe."
>You smirk and sip your drink.
"That's what everyone says, until they see it. A small amount of things set me off instantly, but a few little things do, too."
>"Huh... And here I was, thinking you were just some other fan, trying to kiss up to me..."

>"...You're NOT like most ponies, are you?"
>You snort.
"Well, since I'm not a pony, I'd like to think so."
>You finish off your seventh drink.
>At this point, Cherry isn't worried about you anymore, and just really impressed.
>Spitfire just rolls her eyes and smirks.
>"I'm talking more Rainbow's speed; the starstruck, peppy attitude and all. You, on the other hoof, just talk to me like I'm some random pony."
"...Well, looking at it from my point of view, you still ARE a random pony. I only ever heard about you from Dash."
>She nods, then takes another sip of her drink, just as an eighth one slides over.
>She sighs, then leans over the bar.
>"It's kinda nice..."
"What is?"
>She takes a larger gulp and finishes off her drink.
>"Being treated like everypony else. No autographs, no pictures, no hugs... just... talking... I miss it."
"Well, doesn't the rest of your team talk to you normally?"
>She shakes her head.
>"It's always 'ma'am this' and 'ma'am that' with them... I think ponies are scared of me."
>You take another sip.
"Why's that?"
>She shrugs.
>"Might be my temper, or my position, but I'm either somepony's idol, or just their captain."
"...Well, that's pretty much me, but instead, either ponies are scared of me, or they pretend to like me... I think Dash is the rare exception, but even after four years, I'm still not too sure."
>"That bad, huh?"
>You simply nod, then finish your drink again.
>Another one comes by.
>You lift it in the air.
"Well, then, to strangers."
>Spitfire smiles, then clinks her glass to yours.
>"To strangers."
>You both chug your drinks and set the glasses down.
>She just looks at you, then the glasses you have piled up.
>"Are you even feeling a LITTLE tipsy?"
>You shrug.
"Just a very tiny bit. Alcohol isn't as strong here as it was back home."
>"Wow. You must have a pretty high tolerance, then."
>You shrug again.
"I was only really a social drinker back home. Otherwise, I usually didn't at all."
>She just nods.

>Your ninth glass is given to you.
>Spitfire's just eying it.
"...What, did you want to try it?"
>She takes a deep breath, then just grabs and starts chugging it.
>Well, if anything happens, you know CPR, thankfully.
>Not sure how well that'd work on ponies, though.
>You'd probably end up breaking a few ribs on accident.
>And you don't even lift.
>She finishes off the glass and slams it on the counter.
>"W-woah, Celestia, sheesh..."
>She hiccups, then just stares at the glass.
"...Are you alright, there?"
>She winces.
>"Y-yeah, just... h-how strong are your drinks?"
"Back home?"
>She nods.
"Well, the most I've seen is like, one fifty proof. That drink you just had should be the equivalent of like, five beers back home. Though I don't think proofs work the same here as they do back home anymore, because I'm pretty sure I'd be drunk right now if they were."

>She just nods.
>She looks incredibly drunk already.
>You watch her struggling to keep her balance on her stool.
"Are you alright? How drunk are you, on a scale of one to ten?"
>She hiccups and looks at you with a dopey smile.
>"Maybe eight."
>...Maybe?
>This horse is starting to spin in her stool.
>She's obviously a happy drunk.
>She grins at you.
>Her cheeks are so red right now.
>"So, what was home like? Wh-HIC-what did YOU have for entertainment? Any air shows like Cloudsdale?"
>You nod.
>You're actually starting to feel drunk.
>Really quickly, too.
>You blink for a moment, then catch yourself almost faceplanting off your seat.
>You lean on the counter and hiccup.
"Oh, yeah, we had airshows- but they weren't about flying ponies. Do you have airplanes, here?"
>She looks off to the side, deep in thought.
>"...'Air-plains'?
"Okay, so I'll take that as a no. Well, airplanes are like, these machines that people can fly and go really fast in, without having wings of their own."
>She just looks at you like you told her the sun was purple.
>"...How... how is that even possible?"
>You shrug.
"I never studied the things, but I know that they use fuel and take off after moving on the ground a bit."
>"How?"
>You scoot your chair closer to the counter, and watch her do the same.
>You set your hand face down on it, pretending it to be the airplane.
"So, look, first, you give that stuff gas, and it propels it really fast down a strip of land. This thing has wings on both sides of it, so after a while, the air just blows by so fast that it picks it up, so these heavy things are able to move around and glide and stuff."
>She just stares at you, fascinated.
>"That's impressive."
>You simply nod.
"And air shows will usually consist of people being in some of the fastest planes, then doing tricks, nearly smashing into each other, and so on."
>"Wow..."
"Mhmm, mhmm. Earth is pretty neat when talking science and stuff. But it's a lot."

>You feel a hoof tap your shoulder and jump.
>Soarin' is now beside you and Spitfire, slightly wobbly.
>"You guys, it's pretty late, now.'
>He looks at Spitfire.
>"Are you good to fly, Captain?"
>She nods her head, then loses her balance on her seat and nearly falls.
>Soarin' just shakes his head.
>"You can't fly tonight. Think about a hotel or something."
>You raise your hand.
"My house is pretty close, actually. I usually would take Rainbow there to spend the night, 'cause the couch is comfy enough for me."
>Spitfire just yawns.
>"How close is it?"
"It's pretty close. Close enough to warrant this being the only bar I go to."
>She puts a hoof to her muzzle for a few moments.
>"...Just for tonight?"
"Well, yeah, unless you plan on staying longer."
>She pauses again, lost in thought.
>"...Alright. Lead the way, I guess. I don't plan on getting anything more."
>You nod and fish into your pockets for bits.
>Cherry looks at you and waves her hoof dismissively.
>"You don't owe me anything, Anon. I oughta pay YOU for finally finishing that bottle for me, after four years of it just sitting there."
"...Are you sure, Cherry?"
>She nods.
>"Anything for my favorite customer."
>You can't help but smile.
"Wow, thank you, Cherry."
>She nods again, and picks up both yours and Spitfire's glasses.
>"Just come back, you hear?"
"Of course!"
>You hop off your stool and unconsciously help Spitfire off hers, grabbing and carrying her to the floor.
>You forget to say goodbye to the others and stumble out with Spitfire.
>She slightly leans against you, trying not to fall.
>You point a little ways at your house in the distance.
"See, my home's just right there. Not far at all."
>"Huh. You weren't-HIC-kidding."
>You simply nod, then continue walking.
>You shove your hands into your pockets, trying your best to warm up.
>Spitfire doesn't even shiver a little bit.
>Having that coat of fur of hers must be nice.
>A thought passes your mind.
>You forgot, Ponyville homes don't have heaters.

>And in fact, it's BECAUSE of their coats.
>Even in snow, they all have no need to have heaters.
>So you get to freeze because you haven't evolved above having jackets, and don't have one.
>It's your only complaint about this place.
>You feel so left out, freezing as much as you do.
>And you already feel extremely left out as it is.
>You walk onto the front yard of your house and walk up to the door.
>A quick unlock later, and you notice that it's probably only a degree warmer than the outside.
>And you're fucking freezing.
"Whelp, m-mi casa, es s-su c-casa!"
>You hug yourself and shiver.
>"What does that mean?"
"M-my house, is your h-house!"
>She finally notices your shivering.
>"You're cold?"
>You viciously nod.
"I'm pretty much hairless. I c-can't k-keep warm anywhere."
>You swear, her face is getting a lot redder than it was before.
>"W-well, stick c-close to me. I could keep you w-warm..."
>You simply nod, and smile.
"Thanks. That'd probably help out a bunch."
>She nods in return, and you turn to her.
"So, did you want or need anything? A drink? Food?"
>"A water would be nice."
"Alrighty. Just make yourself comfortable, then."
>She nods, then walks into the house.
>You shut the door, then make your way over to the kitchen.
>You just think it's a bit weird how they have refrigerators, which keep things cool, but can't make heaters.
>Thought you're sure that it's still because of their coats, you still don't understand why it's not an option to have one.
>You sigh and grab two bottles of water from the fridge.
>Though, since the ponies have barely started getting the hang of plastic, the less expensive ones are glass.
>You mentally shrug and just bring them both over to the living room, seeing Spitfire making herself comfortable on your favorite chair.
>Her wings are also stiff as all hell.
"You get a wing cramp or something?"
>Her face gets a bit redder for some reason, and she nods.
>"Y-yeah. I-I was going to preen my wings, b-but they cramped up."

>She winces a bit.
>You don't know how sensitive wings are, but she looks like she's in a lot of pain.
"Well, maybe I could help preen your wings. Help out a bit?"
>She gets even redder, most likely embarrassed at the idea of needing help.
>You feel her pain.
"It'll just be between us. I'm pretty sure you don't like asking for help, huh?"
>She pauses for a moment, then nods.
>You wave a hand.
"I'm exactly the same way. So if you do need help, I'd just keep it a secret from others. But, you know, it's up to you."
>She seems to think about it for a long time.
>Meanwhile, you just set the water beside her, and open your own.
>The second you take a sip, she speaks.
>"O-okay... B-but just this once!"
>You nod, then scoot your chair a little closer to hers.
>You just stare at her wings for a moment.
"Alright, so, what IS preening, exactly? And how do I do this?"
>"Y-you don't know what preening is?"
>You shake your head.
"Heard it a few times from Rainbow, but I still don't know what it is."
>"It's, u-um, when you fix your wings up. You reposition them and, uh, and fix the bent ones..."
"Huh, that's it?"
>She nods, and stretches her wings a bit, then presents one to her.
"So, do I just, what, feel the feather for bends, or something?"
>She nods.
>"I-it's better to stroke them, to f-feel for anything wrong with them..."
"Oh, alright. So, like this?"
>You start from the base of one feather, then stroke upwards.
>She gasps, and you throw your hands in the air.
"-Shit, did I hurt you or something?"
>She quickly shakes her head.
>"Y-your hands are just, um, cold."
"Oh, sorry."
>You cup your hands and breathe in them to warm up.
>Once they're considerably warmer, you go for the same feather and stoke it again, slower this time.
>Spitfire gasps again, still probably a bit cold from your touch.
>You can't find much to-
>"H-hang on, let me take my flight suit off."
>You move your hands away, and she bites on one of her hooves, trying fruitlessly to take the thing off.

>You just watch for a few seconds.
"...You, uh, need help there, too?"
>She shakes her head, growing a deeper red again.
>"I got this."
>She tries again to pull the thing off, to no avail.
>"I-I think I left it on too long. It won't come off..."
"...So you DO need help?"
>She starts viciously gnawing at the suit, before sighing.
>"Y-yes, please..."
>You nod and kneel beside her seat.
>You grab the part on her hoof, and pull.
>She frees one hoof, then tries, once again fruitlessly, to wiggle her other hoof free.
>You just repeat the process, and both front hooves come free.
>She unzips the rest towards her belly, where the zipper ends.
>Then she flips on her back and tries to kick it off.
>It doesn't budge.
"...You need help with the rest?"
>"N-no!! I-I've got this!"
>You just watch her kick the air, trying her hardest to take the thing off.
>It still doesn't move.
"...I think you need more help. And hell, I've already helped with the front, so..."
>She sighs, then nods.
>You move over to your seat and lean on the armrest, just in front of her hind legs, then grab on the suit.
>In this moment, you have to admit that she looks adorable on her back like that.
>She's scrunching, and you can see some chest fluff popping out.
>You pull on the suit, and she starts lightly kicking them away.
>And just as they slowly start coming off, she accidentally kicks you in the face, and knocks your ass onto your seat.
>You instinctively cover your face and groan.
"-Fucking shit! Ooh, oh man."
>She hops over to your seat, an extremely worried expression on her face.
>"A-Anon! A-are you okay?! I'm so sorry! I-I didn't mean t-to-"
>You wave a hand.
"Nah, it's alright. I'm too drunk to feel most of it, anyways."
>Her look softens, but she still looks worried.
"Is my nose bleeding, though?"
>You move your hands away, and she gasps.
>You just cover your nose again.
"...Is it that bad?"
>"Ooh, I'm so sorry, Anon! I'm sorry!"
"-It's fine, Spitfire. And I don't think it's broken."

>"B-but what if it is?!"
"Pft, I've had to set my nose back a few times. I can deal with it."
>You put a hand under your nose and look at it.
>And of course, it's really bloody.
"I should probably wash this off, though..."
>She hops away from you and takes the small bit of her suit off, while you get off your seat.
>You make your way to the bathroom and flip on the light.
>Immediately, you see your reflection, and its easily broken nose.
"Oh, daaamn, well, maybe it's a LITTLE broken."
>Spitfire comes into the bathroom and just looks at you in the mirror.
"Well, this shouldn't hurt that much, then."
>You set your hands on the sides of the bridge of your nose, then slowly move it all to the middle.
>You hear a small cracking noise, and some more blood starts pouring out.
>"Oh Celestia! Sh-should we go to a hospital?!"
>You shake your head.
"Like I said, I've dealt with a lot of broken noses before in my life. It'll just take a bit to clean this up."
>She just continues watching you.
>You point at the shower nearby.
"You know, if your wings are still feeling cramped, a little warm water might help you out. You can use that shower if you want. Ponies ARE usually without clothes, right?"
>She nods, then stretches her wings a bit.
>"I guess a small shower COULD help a bit..."
>You nod and put a few pieces of toilet paper on your nose.
"There's some clean towels in that hamper right there. I guess if you do just want to have a full-fledged shower, there's some stuff for you to use, there. Things for guys seem to be much more expensive."
>She nods, then smiles.
>"Th-thank you, Anon."
"Mhmm."
>She walks past you, then grabs a yellow towel.
>Of course.
>And as you continue, you start to think about the pony who now just started her shower.
>Compared to how she was when you first talked to her, she's much more... comfortable, now.
>Hell, she didn't want anything to do with you earlier, and now she's using your shower and asking you to help her.
>It's nice.

>Another thought hits you, and you remember what your mission was, in the first place.
>You pretty much have to have her accept the end of the Wonderbolts.
>But she's so calm and nice to you right now...
>You kind of don't want to jeopardize that...
>But, you guess what Soarin' said is right.
>It'd be better if she came to terms with it as soon as possible, as to avoid being hurt more when it actually happens.
>You sigh.
>It's gonna be a bit troublesome bringing that up when you have to.
>"-Anon?"
>You shake your head out of your stupor.
"Huh? Yes?"
>"Do you have a back brush?"
>...A back brush?
>The fuck is that?
"Uh, I don't think so. What is that?"
>"It's the brush with the long handle. For your back."
>You shake your head, though you know she can't see.
"Nope, I don't have that."
>"O-oh..."
>There's a small moment of silence.
>"C-could you... help me out, then?"
>Help out, in the shower?
>Well, back home, something like that would really get you excited.
>But if Spitfire, someone who hasn't even known you for a day, is asking for you to hop in, then obviously it's just another weird pony thing.
>Because ponies really are weird.
>And even after four years of living in this place, you're still learning about them.
>Hell, you only recently found out about bird ponies.
>A whole flock of the things followed you home because you decided to enjoy the day and eat your lunch outside.
>...Never doing that again.
"Uh, sure. What did you need?"
>"I-I just need somepony to reach my back. I can't."
>Huh.
>Makes sense, not having that back brush or whatever the hell.
>You tend to be an intellectual kind of drunk.
>Or philosophical.
>One of those fucking words.
>...You think.
>But you just, well, think a lot when you're drunk.
>But you forget basic things in the process.
>For example, you just forgot about Spitfire needing help, because you started explaining to yourself how much you think when you're drunk.

>-Oh shit, right!
>You walk your ass over to the shower curtain and just pull it back.
>Spitfire's got a bottle of shampoo in her mouth, and struggling to actually get some on her hair.
>You simply push the shower head a little bit away, to avoid spilling shit all over the floor, then take the bottle from her mouth.
"Might as well speed up the process while I'm at it, right?"
>She looks at you for a moment, then nods.
>Right before you put some in your hands, you think of something.
>You take your coat off and just place it on the nearby towel rack, then roll up the sleeves of your shirt.
>You squirt some of that flowery scented stuff on your hands and lather them up.
>Seriously, why all the manly scents are so fucking expensive will forever be a myste-
>-Actually, they're fucking expensive because guys are outnumbered as shit here.
>And you hate that.
>Since guys are the minority, the majority, being mares, don't give a shit about the prices we have to pay, just because it doesn't affect them.
>It's a cruel, cruel world.
>Though, the time during estrus is pretty fucking cool.
>Because all the women hide out in their homes and, well, do their thing, all the guys come outside and can enjoy the sunshine.
>Then, for the entire season, it's just guys hanging out everywhere, doing cool shit without the nagging and complaining of any mares.
>...Though, it's usually the other way around.
>But the things YOU do are manly.
>...Even though it just means going to the bar.
>Which is what you do practically all the time.
>So nothing really changes.
>...Whatever.
>It's the thought that's so cool.
>Hell, one time Rainbow even came to visit during that time.
>She was still determined to drink more than you, even when in heat.
>She failed miserably.
>She also grinded on the stool she was on.
>You never lived that down.
>-Shit, right, cleaning!
>Spitfire just scoots a little closer to you, and you start shampooing her mane.

>See, when she first asked you to help her out, the first thing that came to mind was actually helping out IN the shower.
>You guess that's not the case, then, because she doesn't seem to be saying anyth-
>"C-can you just hop in here, instead? This is... weird."
>-Nevermind.
"You mean, like, in there? Like... IN the shower?"
>She nods.
>Oh, shit.
"Uh, sure."
>Just remember, Anon, it's not a weird thing in ponyland.
>Still though, you ain't doing that.
>Or at least, not completely.
>You dry your hands on a towel and unbutton your shirt.
>You take off the undershirt and your slacks, as well as shoes and socks.
>Then you're just left in boxers.
>Spitfire's staring at them, growing a deeper shade of red rather quickly.
>She's probably getting impatient.
>Hell, you know you wouldn't like, just, having soap sitting in your hair like that, either.
>You set your clothes neatly to the side and hop in with your boxers.
>Spitfire looks at you, then your boxers, slightly annoyed.
>You probably took too long.
>But shit, you had to make sure that your beloved suit wasn't going to get wet or wrinkled during this.
>"Why are you still wearing those?"
"Well, because they're the only pair that I have, and they're pretty comfortab-"
>"-No, why are you wearing th-them HERE? They're g-going to get wet..."
"Oh, yeah, I know. It's just, uh, not wearing clothes around other people is a big thing back home. Usually don't do it unless you're with, like, a significant other, or something."
>She huffs, and you just start lathering up her mane.
>She's got crazy amounts of hair, and now seeing it all wet and not spiky is weird.
>She keeps having to to push her mane away from her face.
>She just closes her eyes, as to not get any soap in them, and lets you do your thing.
>Then something comes to mind.
"S-so... uh, I noticed that me and Dash were the only ones in the VIP place... How come?"
>She immediately tenses up, then opens her eyes.
>"What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, I know that the tickets are pretty expensive, but how come there weren't anymore people? I figured that everyone would want to see you guys backstage if they could."
>She closes her eyes again and softly sighs.
>There's a long moment of silence.
>"...Th-they did..."
"What?"
>"Ponies DID always want to see us backstage... We used to have full houses every performance, and more."
"...Used to? What happened to that?"
>She stays silent again.
>The only thing that's making noise is the water hitting the both of you while she stands there.
>You aren't cleaning her mane anymore.
>Her muzzle slightly scrunches, and she tightens the close on her eyes.
>"...I...I... ruined it..."
>What?
"What?"
>She opens her eyes, and you see something from them mixing in with the water.
>Tears.
>"I ruined it! I-I lost my balance in THREE of the biggest performances in my career, j-just because I couldn't finish all the paperwork and s-sleep in time!! Everypony stopped coming because of ME!"
>You pause for a moment.
>You're an INTELLECTUAL drunk, you don't do well with emotions.
>And you knew this BEFORE you even realized how many thoughts ran through your head.
"Well, I doubt that they'd all stop because of JUST you-"
>"-N-no! Y-you don't GET IT! I DID THIS! I RUINED THEM! THE WONDERBOLTS ARE DYING, A-AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT!"
>She hops out of the shower and takes the curtain down, then sprints out of the bathroom.
"Spitfire!"
>Fuck.
>You hop out after her and immediately slip on your ass.
>Literally.
>But it seems like the least of your worries.
>You look over to the front door and see her quickly shaking herself of water, wings now preparing to fly.
>You quickly stand up without slipping again, then run over to her.
>She starts fumbling around with the doorknob of your house, then swings it open.
>Just as her wings spread, you catch and hold her.
>You know she could seriously get hurt, not only flying while wet, but while drunk.

>And even if your fuck-up brought down what little bonding you've had, you know that this'd all be on your head if she flew and DID get hurt.
>"N-no! L-let me go!"
>She punches you in the face, and re-breaks your nose.
"Spitfire, calm down! Calm DOWN!"
>She hits you in the chest and knocks the wind out of you.
>But you don't loosen your grip.
>She flails for a little bit more, then just gives up and starts crying.
>And it's not just any cry.
>But it's easy to tell how long she's wanted to.
>She wraps her hooves around you like you're going to disappear at any moment.
>"I-I TRIED, ANON! I-I'M JUST A WASHED UP OLD MARE! I CAN'T FLY, ANYMORE!"
>Funny, considering she's pretty much Dash's age.
>And Dash is a young adult.
"That's not true."
>You stop talking, because of how retarded you realized you sound.
>You sound like you're just, horribly congested or something.
>"I-I'm NOTHING, now..."
>You simply shake your head, not bothering with any kind of vocal input in your state.
>She continues crying.
>She keeps heaving in air with these shallow, ragged breaths.
>She's shaking like a leaf in your arms.
>Her tears are just piling on your shoulder.
>And you're trying to catch your nose and not bleed all over her.
>She doesn't seem to be letting up anytime soon, and neither does your nose.
>You pull your hands over and set them up beside your nose again.
>It pops back into place, and then starts pouring down your arms.
>Spitfire notices, then backs away.
>"A-ANON! Y-YOU'RE BLEEDING!"
>You simply nod, still trying to stop it.
>She pauses, then starts crying again, wrapping you in another hug that knocks you on your back.
>And onto the hardwood floor.
>You're definitely waking up with a fucking headache tomorrow.
>"I-I'M S-SO S-S-SORRY!!!"
"It's fine."
>She starts crying into your chest.
>And now there's blood mixed in with the water and tears that were already on your floor.
>Great.

>You're not even sure what to do at this point.
>So you just lie there, bleeding all over the place while Spitfire cries into you.
>Hell, this doesn't even seem like the Spitfire you first saw at that VIP place.
>-Well, what the fuck are you saying, of COURSE it isn't.
>This one here is obviously a very emotional drunk.
>And you just show less emotions than you already don't, when you're drunk.
>It's odd.
>Though, in the four years you've been here, you've noticed how emotional all these ponies are.
>Even their eyes show dick loads of emotion, whereas yours are just the same as they were back on Earth, minus the bloodshot look from staring at computer screens for hours on end.
>"I-I'm so sorry, Anon... I'm sorry."
"It's fine."
>"I-I'm sorry..."
"Well, it's still fine, so you don't really have to be."
>Her sobbing slows a bit.
>You softly sigh.
"...Look, Spitfire, you're not old, okay? You got behind on paperwork because you don't want to ask for help- I understand that. But people make mistakes, and even if less ponies are coming to your shows, it's not your fault."
>She just looks at you with those big, bronze eyes of hers, all red and puffy from th-
"-MPHM!"
>...Brain.exe has stopped working
>Windows can check online for a solution to the problem.
>Close the program
>Your eyes instinctively shut.
>You feel a hoof from behind your head push you closer.
>You both share a breath.
>Her tongue brushes against yours.
>You can't think.
>You feel your face quickly starting to burn.
>Her other hoof slowly brushes across your cheek, the soft hairs tickling you as they glide past.
>Then she breathes deeply, and pulls away, panting lightly.
>She's also got blood on her cheek, from your still-dripping nose.
>You don't know what to say.
>You don't know what to DO.
>And you don't know what to think.
>But one thing was on your mind.
>A pony kissed you.
>...And...
>You actually enjoyed it.
>...What the hell is happening to you?

>Wait.
>A PONY kissed you.
>OH GOD.
>THIS IS WRONG ON SO MANY LEVELS
>She's blushing furiously and avoiding eye contact.
>"S-sorry..."
"-HeyIgottagocleanmynosecoolyeahcool."
>You slip out from under her and bolt to the bathroom.
>You make sure to close and lock the door while you're at it, too.
>You just stare at your reflection in the mirror.
>You look fucking spooked.
>Hell, you're FEELING spooked.
>What the flying fuck just happened back there?!
>Being forced to feel emotions during this state is very, VERY troubling to your brain.
>He's in a fucking corner surrounded by niggers, and he has no idea what's going on.
>There's a knock on the door that makes you jump.
>"Anon? A-are you alright in there?"
"Y-yeah, peachy! I've just got loads of blood everywhere, nothing to worry about!"
>Wait, what you just fucking said IS something to worry about.
>SHIT.
>"W-what?! Is it getting worse?! Should I get a doctor?!"
"-No! I'm just, uh... I've... I've got my dick out, and, uh, I don't want you to see!"
>-WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF AN EXCUSE IS THAT?
>BRAIN, START FUCKING WORKING.
>"O-oh..."
>You sigh and splash some water on your face.
>It mixes with all the blood your nose is spewing out.
>You just take a dick load of toilet paper and start wiping the blood away from it.
>After about a second, you look at yourself in the mirror.
>Shirtless, covered in blood and water...
>You look like shit.
>Pure, unadulterated shit.
>-Thanks for clearing that up, brain.
>-Anytime, Anon.
>You sigh, and REALLY look at yourself.
>And the toll that countless years of loneliness has done to you.
>You shake your head and finish cleaning yourself up.
>You then throw your clothes on, and grab a towel.
>You open the door, and Spitfire's just sitting down, now looking up at you.
>You throw the towel over her back and continue walking.
"We need to talk. I'll be in the living room."

>You walk over and flop onto the couch.
>Spitfire just follows after you, still a bit wet.
>She looks so different with her mane down like that.
>She hops on the seat next to you, just waiting for you to say something.
>You sit straight and sigh.
>You take a simple moment to collect your thoughts.
>But your mouth has other ideas.
"Alright. So... what was THAT."
>She fakes a confused glance and blushes.
>"W-what was what?"
"...You know exactly what I'm talking about. What was..."
>You sigh.
"-You're just... holy shit, you're really drunk, and I'M really drunk, but what the hell were you thinking just now?"
>She scrunches, avoiding eye contact with you.
>"I...I-umm..."
>You internally sigh.
>You're kind of wishing you could just deal with the strong, confident Spitfire you had, just a few hours ago.
>Because all this guessing, all these emotions, are really hurting your head.
>-That, or it's the fucking floor you finished hitting a few minutes ago.
>...Probably both.
>...Definitely both.
>But it's really making it harder to think.
>"I-I don't know. I-I just, I think I like you, a-and-"
"-Woah, woah, hang on a bit. You... LIKE me? You barely KNOW me!"
>She shrinks a bit.
>"I-I just, y-you d-don't see me differently, and you're the only pony w-who's ever just seen... me."
>You stay silent.
>"I just, I-I get tired, of being this pony th-that I can't even keep UP with anymore, a-and, with you, I... I feel like I have a chance, to just be able to be... Spitfire, again."
>She flies over to you.
>"I-I know how emotional I get when I'm drunk, a-and I know that I AM drunk... b-but I know what I want..."
>She gets a bit closer to you.
>You stop her with a hand.

"-I'm gonna have to stop you right there. Look, I... shit, I told you from the very beginning that I'm not into ponies, and there's always plenty of fish in the sea."
>"B-but, I-"
"-And your team is worried about you."
>She pauses, then backs away from your hand.
>"...What?"
"I... look, when I was talking to Soarin' earlier, at the VIP booth, he started telling me about you- how much you overworked yourself, how much you thought about them all and the lengths that you'd go through for them."
>She remains silent.
"...Then, he told me exactly about what you told me. About the Wonderbolts dying."
>She winces.
"And, that he, and the rest of your team, were worried that you'd been denying that. They were worried about what you were going to do- your future, and when you'd come to accept what was happening and let go of the team."
>She just mulls over your words.
"And I can tell you right now, that I most certainly do NOT belong in that future. I'm not cut out for that, I've never been in a relationship, and-"
>She moves past your hand and gets closer again.
>"I-I can have my future with YOU."
>Jesus, this mare's really persistent.
"N-no, I-"
>"-Ever since I noticed the signs, SAW how much popularity we were losing, I-I got scared. I DID think about my future..."
>She takes a step up your leg.
>You slowly back up.
>"M-my mom always had me do that. Sh-she'd tell me that it wasn't good to enjoy the high-life forever, b-because all good things would have to end eventually..."
>"She told me to start thinking about family, s-somepony to settle down with, and that once I met them, I'd know exactly that they were meant for me..."
>You back up again.
>She just takes another step.
>"I've tried dating... Every stallion I've seen was just there, either for the money, the looks, or the fame... but not you."
>You feel a small lump form in your throat.
>"You treat me like a regular pony. You aren't after anything of mine..."
>She takes another step.

>"-You don't see me as a celebrity, o-or a Captain, or an idol... You're the most genuine pony I know, and... it's you."
>She takes a deep breath.
>"You're my special somepony; the one my mom talked about. Even if you don't see it yourself, yet..."
>She takes another step.
>"I've never felt this way with anypony before, and even though you say you don't like mares..."
>She puts a hoof on your chest and leans into your ear.
>"I'd just like to see that as a challenge..."
>She flips around and sits on your chest, moving her tail out of the way to give you a view of her-
>You close your eyes.
"-SPITFIRE, YOU'RE DRUNK!"
>You reach out, grab her, then put her on the ground.
>You quickly stand up, watching a pair of bedroom eyes just locked onto yours.
"Look, you're obviously really, REALLY drunk, and... Jesus, I'm at least sober enough to know that you'll probably regret everything you've said and done tonight!"
>She brushes away her mane with a hoof and just smiles at you.
>"Well, I'm sober enough to know that you're the one for me..."
>She slowly starts walking around you.
>"Kind, but not a doormat. Assertive, but not pushy. Persistent, competitive, honest..."
>She brushes your legs with her tail.
>"And cute..."
>You just stare at her with a blank look on your face.
>She pouts.
>-And even though it's forced, it's still really damn cute.
>She has the bottom lip quiver, the puppy-eyes, and the begging position all perfectly executed.
>You sigh.
"Look... If you truly mean what you're saying, then we'll talk about this tomorrow. That's all I'm going to do for you."
>She beams.
>She just stands up with this huge smile on her face- half triumphant, and half... relieved.
>"Thank you, Anon."
>You sigh, then nod.
"Now, did you want to sleep now or-"
>"-SHOWER."
"-Of course..."
>You close your eyes and sigh.
>And she's going to ask for you to-
>"But you'll still help me... right?"
>-OF COURSE.
>You slowly open your eyes and see her giving you another pouty look.
>Damn.

>You just watch as she happily trots over to the bathroom.
>And to think, just a few minutes ago, she broke your nose twice, then drenched you in water and tears.
>...She really is an emotional drunk.
>You sigh.
>Hopefully you won't remember any of this, tomorrow.
>But you know that you will, anyways.
>You slowly walk over to the bathroom and see that Spitfire's already but the curtain back where it's supposed to be in the first place.
>She just hops in and patiently waits for you.
>Hell, with all the dried blood and shit you've got on you, you feel that you need a shower, anyways.
>Might as well enjoy it the best you can.
>Besides, with your savings being completely obliterated like it is, you'll probably want to start saving water.
>You take everything off but your boxers once again, and hop into the shower.
>After neatly folding and putting away all your clothes, of course.
>She starts up the water, and you step back inside.
>The minute you do, the water turns a shade of pink.
>Jesus.
>You feel your nose and make sure that it's not crooked.
>Spitfire, meanwhile, is just dousing herself in water.
>She stands right under the showerhead and happily sighs.
>Her mane drapes over her face, and she just smiles, leaning her head back to have the water push it behind her.
>It's kinda cute.
>...Not that you'd ever admit that.
>She opens one eye and looks at you.
>"Well don't let me use ALL the water- get in here!"
>She pushes you towards her with a hoof and giggles.
>Then she pauses and looks away from you.
>"A-also... if you can..."
>She spreads her left wing out to you.
>Oh.
>Right.
>Well, at least this isn't anything too lewd or dirty.
>You see birds do the shit all the time.
>You rub the largest feather that's there, checking for any small bends in it.
>When you get to the bottom, she shifts a little bit.
>The next one gets pretty much the same reaction.
>Is it hurting, or what?

>You move down to the... secondary feathers, you think they're called.
>You feel the biggest one, getting a small sigh in response.
>Her feathers are really weird feeling, you've noticed.
>Or just Pegasus feathers in general, you're sure.
>Like, they're definitely feathers, but they're much thicker.
>You're not really sure how to explain it, really, because you don't know much about it yourself.
>But they're really soft.
>You move onto the second biggest feather and slowly feel it from the top to bottom.
>She fidgets again.
>What is WITH that spot?
>Is it really sensitive enough to hurt when you touch it?
>With the last one, you're really slow about your movements, in order to avoid that spot.
>You see her leg twitch, and she shuts her eyes and mouth in pain.
>Fuck, you didn't even TOUCH the bottom that time!
>Well... maybe she hurt her wing before, or something?
>You mentally shrug, and Spitfire moves over to give you her right wing.
>She looks away with this one, too.
>You never expected this to be such an uncomfortable experience for Pegasi...
>Or maybe you're doing to wrong?
>She'd tell you if you were doing it wrong, right?
>Unless she's just trying to be strong for you, or something...
>You stroke the largest feather again, touching it as lightly as you can.
>"Y-you h-have to put more p-pressure than that, A-Anon..."
>Fuck, okay.
>You stroke the feather with your thumb, a little harder this time.
>She winces and gasps.
>"J-just k-keep g-going, please..."
>You nod and work on the second primary.
>That IS what they're called, right?
>Eh, fuck it.
>You try to put as much pressure as the last feather, but at a gentler pace.
>She makes a small whining noise.
"Sorry, I'm trying not to hurt you."
>"Y-you're d-doing great, A-Anon..."
>You move to the smallest one and do the same thing.
>Her tail flicks at you.
>Probably another sign that you're putting too much pressure.
"Sorry."
>You move over to the secondaries and stroke the first one.

>She stifles a groan.
"Shit, sorry!"
>"Y-y-you're fine, Anon..."
>She shifts in place again.
>You start on the second and just quickly brush past it, trying to get it over with.
>She gasps.
>You quickly finish scanning the last one with your fingers and throw your hands up.
"I'm done, now."
>She seems to be... panting, now.
>"C-can you get the base? M-my wings are r-really s-sore..."
"Uh, sure. I'll try not to hurt you."
>"O-okay."
>You hold the bottom half of her wing up with your palm.
"It's this part, right?"
>"Y-yeah."
>She still hasn't looked at you.
"Okay. Well, here goes nothing, I guess."
>You use your thumbs to slowly knead the muscles underneath.
>-Do birds HAVE muscles in their wings?
>Maybe that's what's different...
>You shrug it off and continue.
>"A-aah, j-jeez..."
>Must be really sore, then...
>You put a little more pressure and massage the part of her wing.
>"A-and I think this feather's a l-little s-sore, too..."
>She points at her primary.
>Or, the biggest feather in that wing.
"Alright, then."
>You use your left hand to massage the base of her wing, and the right one to stroke the feather.
>She grunts, and her tail flicks at you again.
>You notice her breathing getting quicker.
>You simply use your thumbs the whole process, just rubbing and putting pressure wherever you can.
>"Yeah, k-keep going."
>You do so, and you can actually start to feel her heartbeat in the wing.
>It's like, pulsating.
>It's really weird.
>You just continue at your pace, getting a small grunt or groan every few seconds.
>"Mmph, yes, that's it..."
>Man, your fingers really do the trick.
>Maybe you could start a massage parlor or something?
>You rub a bit harder, but slower.
>"A-ahh, y-yes!"
>You stay near the bottom of the primary, in order to lessen its tension.
>"Mmm, Anon!"
"-What? Did I hurt y-"
>"-NO KEEP GOING!"

"Uh, okay."
>And you do so.
>"Oooh, yessss..."
>You know, it's a bit weird that she's making those noises.
>You understand that massages are good, but it seems a little... extreme.
>"Oh, keep going! I-I'mmm..."
>You just keep going.
>You can actually feel her wings getting MORE tense.
>Goddamn, Pegasi wings are weird...
>You just put more pressure into it.
>"AAH, Y-YES!"
>...This is getting a little bit weird, now...
>Her breathing gets ridiculously fast.
>Her tongue lolls out of her mouth.
>Wow, you REALLY need to start a massage parlor.
>...Heh, maybe it's your special talent?
>You'd be the best damn masseuse.
>One of her hind legs kick.
>Her breathing is so heavy that she can't even keep her mouth closed for it.
>So she's just panting really loudly.
>"OH, ANON!!"
>She suddenly tenses up, and her wings get extremely stiff.
>She groans, then suddenly relaxes.
>She looks over at you, still panting, tongue lolling out of her mouth, and...
>...Blushing...
>You look down.
>One of your legs is covered in weird, not-watery substance.
>You quickly put two and two together.
"AH WHAT THE FUCK?!"
>Spitfire just smiles, her whole body quivering a bit.
>"Mmm, th-thanks for that, Anon..."
>HOLY SHIT YOU JUST JERKED OFF HER WINGS.
>You frown and quickly try washing your leg.
>Spitfire just looks up at you with some crazy-looking bedroom eyes.
>She glances quickly at your boxers.
>"Want me to, ah... 'return' the favor?"
>You quickly shake your head and resume viciously scrubbing.
>"You suuure?"
>Her tail flicks at you.
"Yes, I'm SURE."
>Sweet Jesus.
>You feel so...
>Wrong...

>How in the hell didn't you catch on earlier?
>Sweet Jesus...
>You just stand there, contemplating your life, while she just continues soaking in the water, like nothing even happened.
>She pauses, and looks up at you.
>"Can you help me with my back, Anon?"
>You just glare at her.
>She takes a seat.
>Oh fuck, she's not-
>"Please?"
>-She's using that begging look of hers.
>You curse yourself and sigh.
"If I see even a TINY hint of something else going on, I'm hosing you down, instead."
>She brightens up and quickly nods.
>You sigh again, then step over to her.
>She grabs the blue loofah from the side of the bath and spits it into your hand.
>You grab some more flowery-scented body wash and just lather that all up.
>Once it's good enough for you, you slowly put it on her back, and keep it there.
>She turns to you with a curious glance.
>You put on a cautious one.
>She rolls her eyes and sighs.
>"It's nothing BAD, Anon."
>Her eyes close half-way.
>"Unless... you WANT it to be..."
>You shoot her a glare, and she just giggles.
>Christ, this mare.
>You slowly start scrubbing her back, looking for any hints that she's enjoying it a little bit TOO much.
>You don't find anything, thankfully.
>So you pick up the pace to a normal one.
>She doesn't fidget or say anything, and just watches your hand move.
>"...Can you go any slower?"
>Jesus, it's like dealing with a second Dash.
>You pick up the pace and just viciously scrub her.
>She twitches a bit, and you pause, glare intensifying.
>"H-hey, YOU hit my wing! It's involuntary!"
>Your look softens.
>But only by a bit.
>You'll let it slide THIS time.
>You finish up, and she bites down and takes the loofah away from you.
>Then she spits it out and starts rinsing her tongue with water.
>"Why dith you cother the WHOLE thinth in thoap?!"
"...What?"
>She rubs her tongue with her hooves and spits into the drain.
>"You put soap all over that thing! I can't wash with THAT!"

"What? Of course you can."
>She glares at you.
>Then, a thought seems to hit the both of you.
>She just looks at you with a hopeful smile.
"...No."
>"Why not?"
"Not after the wing thing!"
>She returns your glare.
>"It's YOUR fault that the thing's got soap all over it! YOU should help me out!!"
"Well why not just rinse the thing and try again?"
>"Because it'll still taste like SOAP, Anon!"
"Well, I ain't helping out, this time!"
>She sits-
>-NO-
>-Pouty face.
"FINE."
>She beams, and you pick the loofah back up with a sigh.
>It's like you ENJOY putting yourself into these positions...
>She turns and faces you, then puffs her chest out.
>-Well, not her chest, but there's a bunch of fluff that sticks out.
>You sigh again and kneel, then start scrubb-
>-Fuck it, kneeling is already extremely uncomfortable for you.
"Just sit down."
>She nods and does do without hesitation.
>You just sit down cross-legged, and-
>-It's still really uncomfortable.
>Well, more painful, really.
>The lack of clothes and the size of the damn tub really doesn't help at all.
>You sigh, then sit at the edge of it.
>Spitfire wastes no time to hop on you.
>And she actually DOES hop on you.
>You land on your back, and she just casually sits on your chest, tail wrapped around her and everything, like a cat.
>It's surprisingly much more comfortable, though.
>Mostly because you now have something to support your back with.
>Even if it is just the floor.
>You just get to scrubbing Spitfire's chest fluff, much to her pleasure.
>Thankfully, though, she doesn't seem to be enjoying it TOO much.
>You move over to her right side, and she spreads her wing out of the way.
>You brush and scrub that shit, then move over to the other side.
>It's kind of like washing a dog.
>A very obedient, bright yellow-colored dog.

>Once you finish with that part, she extends her right hoof over to you.
>For a moment you have no idea what she's doing, then it clicks into your mind, and you hold it with your left while you scrub that, too.
>First you do the front, then the back, and sides, and then the spot at the bottom-
>She starts giggling.
>"Anon, that tickles!"
>You finish quickly, then move onto the other hoof, with the same process.
>She giggles again when you clean the bottom.
>So, it's obviously a sensitive spot, then.
>Just, you know, thankfully not in THAT sense.
"Alright, sit up straight, I need to get your stomach."
>She, once again, complies without question.
>You scrub that spot, and she starts giggling again.
>-Okay, ANOTHER sensitive spot.
>You just do a few circles, then call it done.
>Alright, now, all you need left is...
>...Is...
>She reads your mind and puts on a sultry smile.
>"Here, I can help you reach back there..."
>She flips over and plants her rump on your chest.
"-FUCK!"
>You cover your eyes.
"Spitfire, I'm NOT going to do that!"
>"Aw, come on? You're just going to leave my other half... dirty?"
"-YES."
>"Oh, don't be like that, Anon..."
>She backs up, putting her rump closer to your face.
>You continue keeping your eyes closed, and just turn your head to the side.
"SWEET JESUS, SPITFIRE, I'M NOT DOING THAT."
>"Oh, come on, Anon. You KNOW you want to..."
>She slowly grinds on you.
>You can't help but notice how considerably large her rump is.
>It's got a lot more weight down on you.
"DON'T MAKE ME THROW YOU OFF, AGAIN!"
>She just wiggles a bit in response.
>Your face is pressed against the tub's floor.
>You try to move your arms, then realize that your left one is trapped underneath her.
>The pressure's getting to be a bit too much for you to deal with.
"-FUCK, FINE! I'LL DO IT!"
>You can hear her squee in response.
>"-Then get to it!"

>There's a moment of silence.
>Being in the position you're in is starting to get painful really quickly.
"Well, GET OFF!"
>"Oh, right!"
>The second she moves, you slip free and stand up.
>"-HEY!"
>You just glare at her and brush yourself off.
"I TOLD you I wasn't going to do it. Now, I think your shower time's up, missy!"
>She huffs, rinses herself off, then steps out of the tub.
>You hand her a towel, and she angrily bites it.
"Alright, now go dry up. I have to take my own shower."
>Her ears perk up, and she glances at your boxers.
"-NO. You're staying outside, UNTIL I'm done... got it?"
>She huffs again, then slowly nods.
"Good."
>You step out of the shower and help her on out of the bathroom.
>And by 'help', you really just lightly push her out.
"You get hungry, there's some stuff in the fridge... Just don't touch my bologna."
>Before she can reply, you slowly close the door, then lock it.
>You walk back, take off them boxers, then start off with a shower of your own.
>Starting with your hands, because you feel REALLY unclean after the whole wing incident.
>

>You turn off the shower, then step out.
>You wrap a towel around your waist and dry your hair off with a much smaller one.
>You pick your clothes up and start unfolding them.
>Once you get pretty dry, you take the towels off and-
>Your boxers are REALLY wet.
>That's not to say that they weren't wet before, but at least they had a while to dry off.
>Those are just soaking wet.
>Shit.
>Well, you're going commando, then.
>You toss the boxers in and silently curse yourself for not pushing for more boxers.
>You wonder if pony sizes would fit...
>You shrug, then dust your clothes off a bit.
>You take a deep breath, then step out of the bathroom.
>Immediately, you smell something.
>Is that...
>Spaghetti?

>You walk over to the kitchen and there's Spitfire, putting a flower in a centerpiece of your table.
>There's also two plates of spaghetti and two glasses of wine beside each other.
>That's the weird thing, though.
>They're not on each end.
>They're NEXT to each other.
>She looks over to you and smiles.
>"Oh, look, you're already dressed for the occasion!"
"Uh... what's all this?"
>"Spaghetti! I made it for us both!"
>You slowly nod.
"...You know when I told you about the stuff in the fridge, I meant something SMALL, right?"
>She waves a hoof.
>"Details, details!"
>You glance at one of the clocks hanging on your wall.
"...You also know it's like, three in the morning, right?"
>She follows your eyes, then simply waves her hoof again.
>"Who cares?"
>You stare at the spaghetti before you.
"...There's also no sauce on mine-"
>"-Shut up and sit down, will you?!"
>You shrug and do so.
>You actually WERE feeling kinda hungry...
>She squeaks and sits down beside you.
>That's when you notice that she's got her mane done up differently.
>It's now up in a little pony tail.
>...No pun intended.
>She just stares at you and waits for you to take a bite.
>You pause.
"...This shit isn't drugged, right? No viagra or roofies or anything?"
>She shakes her head.
>You pause again.
"Are you SURE?"
>She grunts, then nods.
>You pause a third time.
"Eat some of it, then."
>She complies, then laps up a small bit of noodles with her tongue, before slurping them up.
>...This shit better not be drugged.

>You just stare at the spaghetti before you for a moment.
>...Fuck it, you're hungry.
>You grab your fork and twirl that shit.
>You just pop that into your mouth, much to Spitfire's disappointment.
>You choose not to mention it, but it kind of worries you.
>You casually grab another bite.
>She just seems even MORE disappointed.
>Do you keep missing the roofie that she put in there, or what?
>Instead of twirling, you fish around for any pill-shaped objects, then scoop some with your fork.
>You're not even sure where she'd be able to get drugs, in this time or place, but it never hurts to check.
>Once everything looks good, you bring the fork up to your mouth, spaghetti just spilling over the edges of it.
>As soon as it goes in your mouth, she hops over and slurps the other end of the noodles into her mouth and moves up to your mouth.
>You bite down on it and instinctively cover your mouth with your hands.
>...Did she just try that?
>Did she just try some Lady and the Tramp shit?
>-No fucking wonder she got disappointed when you twirled it with your fork.
>Because she couldn't hop in and try that.
>You grin, mouth still full of noodles.
"Aha, couthnth pull THAT oth, coulth you?"
>"Shuth uth!"
>She swallows and huffs, then starts eating from her plate, an annoyed look plastered across her face.
>You finish your mouthful and grab your fork.
"...This is some tasty-ass spaghetti, though. What'd you do with it?"
>She turns over to you.
>"I cooked it."
>You give her a deadpan look.
>She lightly giggles.
>"I didn't do anything special to it, though."
>Huh.
>...Maybe you're just hungry.
>You look down at your plate.
>Yeah, you're hungry.

>You practically destroy your plate, then start hiccuping.
>You really ate too fast.
>Spitfire just watches, amused, while she takes a pretty big gulp of her wine.
>You do the same, and quickly regain your composure.
>After a quick breath, you confirm that you're no longer hiccuping.
>But something else comes to mind.
>You look at the glass you practically already finished, then the glass that Spitfire is in the process of finishing.
>Your eyes go wide.
"SPITFIRE."
>She puts the glass down and smiles.
>"Yeah?"
"PLEASE tell me you somehow picked up another wine from the store, and this isn't mine."
>She shakes her head.
>"I got this thing from under the cabinets..."
>She just stares off into space, then nearly falls off her chair.
>"Oh, hay, that's some... RRREALLY strong stuff therrre..."
>She hiccups.
>Of course she had to get your special wine.
>Not only the wine that came straight from the Griffon Kingdom, but also the wine that is just as strong, if not STRONGER, than the average wines you've tried back home.
>She looks at her plate and just faceplants into it.
>Then starts lazily chewing on it.
>Great.
>As if her being a regular kind of drunk wasn't bad enough...
>"Thith ith really good spagethi."
>You sigh.
>So much for sleep, then.
>You start working on your own plate, staring at the clock sitting on your wall.
>Spitfire nudges you.
>"So, are we going to go upsthairths and do it, or whath?"
"No, Spitfire."
>"Aww, why noth?"
>You sigh and just continue grazing on your spaghetti.
>You start to feel a little wobbly.
>-She obviously grabbed the wine you were going to use on your birthday.
>Hell, you were originally going to go for the whiskey, but those damn griffons use the shape of the bottle as a perfect reason to up the prices.
>They're worse than Jews.
>And that's saying something.
>You've had a roommate that was a Jew.
>He actually collected pennies and everything- kept them in a jar and never even did anything with them.

>You think he just liked having the coins there, or something.
>He was a weird guy.
>Fun at parties, though.
>-Damn it, why are you thinking about this?
>Jesus, you're drunk, now.
>You think the Equestrian stuff really softened you up.
>Because you should NOT be feeling this drunk from one glass.
>You finish off your spaghetti and look over at Spitfire.
>She's still lying in the spaghetti, eyes closed and just lazily chewing away.
>Jesus.
>You walk over to the sink and grab a napkin, then turn back.
>Spitfire's now asleep.
>On a plate of spaghetti.
>You turn back around and grab a handful of napkins.
>You poke her cheek.
>She snores.
>You move the plate away and gently clean her face, then throw said plates into the sink.
>You do the same with the glasses, then pick her up in your arms, stomach and hooves facing up.
>You catch yourself nearly falling, and carefully walk to the stairs.
>You lean on the side of the railing and slowly walk up to your room.
>After pushing the door open, you walk over to your bed and gently put her down on it.
>You cover and tuck her in, enjoying the sight of the Pegasus all snuggled up and warm in your bed.
>You smile, then walk out of the room, closing the door on your way out.
>You wonder if she'll even remember what you said earlier, about discussing everything tomorrow.
>Hell, you barely can.
>Once you reach the bottom of the steps, you flip off the living room lights, then walk over and plop on your couch.
>Tonight has been unreasonably exhausting.
>You grab a pillow from one of the other couches and lie your head on it.
>A quick yawn later, and you're just staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to take you.
>Though you probably have other things to think about, the only thing really calling to you is the couch.
>And a few stray thoughts.
>One says, 'Wow, even Dash isn't as much work as this one was tonight.'
>The other says, 'You threw a completely good plate of spaghetti in the sink tonight.'
>You close your eyes.

>You wake up mid snore and blink.
>Immediately, you're met with a horrible throbbing in your head, and a cheek covered in drool.
"Ugh, fuck me..."
>You wished you had some damn water before sleeping yesterday.
>You get off the couch and walk over to the kitchen, thankful that you never had any reason to leave the window blinds open.
>You yawn and instinctively start making some coffee.
>And though it's painful to, you remember practically everything about yesterday.
>...Well, bits and pieces, more like.
>But the most important parts are there, which is what counts.
>You press a button and start watching the beautiful caffeine drink pouring into the pot below.
>It's actually quite soothing to watch.
>And because of that, you just stare at it for a few minutes.
>Man, you can't wait until Equestria develops the technology for Keurig machines...
>Or hell, if it takes too long, you always could.
>You yawn and fill two mugs full of coffee.
>You leave yours there and-
>-Oh, here she comes.
>Spitfire walks down the stairs and just starts walking over to you.
>She looks tired as fuck.
>And in pain.
>You set her mug on the table and watch her slowly take a seat.
"Creamer?"
>Not even looking at you, she just shakes her head and takes a sip.
>You sit down at the chair beside her and blankly stare at the wall.
>The only thing breaking the silence is the sound of you both taking small sips of your horribly bitter coffee.
>Christ, you fucking hate mornings.
>And hangovers.
>And you've only had two, this one included.
>The last was Christmas.
>The same day that you ended up here, actually.
>You hear Spitfire clearing her throat, and turn to her.
>...But she's just, well, clearing her throat.
>Does she even remember ANYTHING?

>The silence just continues.
>You sip on your coffee.
>You glance at her every so often, watching her just stare blankly at the wall.
>After about the third glance, she catches you.
>She just glares slightly.
>"Why don't you take a picture- it'll last longer."
>You're taken back a bit.
>You think you've actually spent more time with her while she's drunk, and the change in, well, EVERYTHING, is already throwing you off.
>She seems really... stiff.
>You're not sure how to explain it.
>Though you're sure this is all just grumpiness following a horrible hangover.
>God knows you're feeling like shit.
>Times ten.
>You simply sigh, then finish off your mug, the exact same time she does.
>You take both the mugs and put them in the sink before getting two glasses of water.
>You simply get tap it from the tap, and slide one over to her.
>She doesn't even thank you or anything, and just chugs the thing down in one sitting.
>And it's a pretty big cup, for her.
>She softly sighs, and you just start sipping your water.
>"...So are we going to talk about us, or what?"
>You spit and accidentally spray water all over yourself.
>She just looks at you.
>"Thought I'd forget, huh?"
>You simply stare at her, unable to say anything.
>She was drunk as fuck.
>How did...?
>What the hell.
>"...So?"
>You quickly get up from your seat and start wiping your coat dry.
"How much you yesterday do you REMEMBER?"
>She simply looks at you, unamused.
>"...Enough. Now, you said we'd talk about it, so we're going to talk about it."
>You give yourself more water and sit down.
"Uh, o-okay."
>You wish you were drunk enough to deal with this.
>Now you can't help but feel ready to spill spaghetti.
>-Funny.
>You remember something about spaghetti from yesterday...

>You're not sure if you ate it, or thought about it, but spaghetti's definitely there.
>You mentally shrug.
>"So. You need to find out what restaurant you're taking me to, and what you're going to wear, because if you always use that suit, I don't want to be seen with you in it."
"-What? Are you just... FORCING me into a date?"
>She just looks at you, then shakes her head.
>"I'm not 'forcing' you into anything... I'm just giving you what you don't know you want."
"...But I don't WANT anything! I'm perfectly fine, simply being lazy and alone-"
>"-No, you aren't."
>You open your mouth to speak, and she stops you with a hoof.
>"Today, six PM sharp. Wear something nice."
"B-but, I-"
>"If you're not here waiting by six, I'm going to keep coming everyday until you get it right."
>She practically growls the last part at you.
>You just stay silent.
>She looks up at you, and her face softens.
>"Thanks for the coffee."
>She glances at the wallclock.
>"And you've got six hours to get ready. I'll be expecting you."
>She flies up to your face, then plants a kiss on your cheek.
>"-S-see you, then."
>You just watch her zip out of the house, leaving a small, yellow trail of light behind her.
>...Well, that just happened.
>You just sit there and stare at the wall, head still throbbing.
>She literally just forced you into a date with her.
>And she hasn't even known you for a full day.
>But the biggest thing, the only thing that confuses you, is that...
>You're actually kind of looking forward to it.
>The whole idea seems, you don't know, exciting, in some weird way.
>You catch yourself smiling, then force a frown.

>You can't enjoy this.
>Why should you, anyways?
>She's...
>Well...
>She's actually pretty cool...
>-Not when drunk, however, but you guess you just enjoy the thought of what you might find out about her.
>-Yeah, that's it...
>It's not HER you're excited about, it's just the change in routine.
>Nothing more.
>Your eyes trail over to the wallclock.
>Well, six hours...
>How the fuck are you going to get brand new clothes in just six hours?
>A thought hits you.
>You glance at one of your windows, wincing at all the sunlight peering through.
>Better take sunglasses.
>You finish up your water and walk back to the living room.
>You spot Spitfire's flightsuit just sitting on one of the couches.
>...She really is a persistent one.
>
>You sigh and readjust your hat.
>You knock on the door before you, and just stand there.
>You put your hands in your pockets and stare at the floor.
>"-There's no need to knock, dear, the Boutique's not clos-"
>The pony stops and looks at you.
>"-Oh, Anonymous! This is... ah, please, come in, come in!"
>You offer a small smile and walk inside.
>Then you're suddenly reminded why you've never stepped foot into this place before.
>It's really gay.
>-Kinda what you'd expect from someone so obsessed with fashion, but still.
>Pinks and purples galore.
>But it's still hard to believe that this is the first time in four years you've been in here.
>And, hell, you barely even know Rarity here.
>Your knowledge of her is purely from very small exchanges, and the countless stories of 'torture' that Dash had told to you over and over again.
>"So, what brings you in here, Anonymous?"
>You sigh and rub your face with your hands.
"Alright, well, first off, I'm hungover, so if I'm snappy at all, it's not my fault. Second... well, the first reason kind of ties in with the second one."
>She just watches you curiously, waiting for you to continue.
"Just, look, do you think you could make an outfit for me? Something fancy... I guess?"
>She brightens up.

>"What's the occasion, if I may ask?"
>You rub the back of your neck with your hand and sigh.
"Well, uh... simply put, it's a, uh, date..."
>She beams.
>"-Oh, Anonymous! It's about time you've started mingling around for that very special somepony! Who is it? Is it somepony here in town?"
>You simply shake your head, and she magics a couch over, lying down and smiling up at you from it.
>"Oh, do tell, Anonymous! I'm DYING to know!"
>...You can tell she is.
>Though you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, this pony here looked like the type to spill every single deep dark secret of yours at your own funeral.
>You look around and spot a clock of hers just hanging on the wall.
"-Actually, do you think we could just start this, like... now?"
>She huffs and frowns.
>"Well, why such the rush, Anonymous?"
>You point at the clock.
"She, uh, expects me to be there in around six hours."
>She gasps and hops off her seat.
>"Then we MUSTN'T waste time!"
>Before you can say anything, the couch is dragged off, and you're pushed towards a scale, and a table full of measuring things.
>You're already hating this.
>
>You hate this.
"Is it almost done?"
>You glance over at the clock again.
>It's about half an hour 'till.
>You ACTUALLY just spent like, five hours, standing in the exact same spot.
>Your mind just completely drifted during that time.
>You felt like you were lucid dreaming while awake.
>That's the length your mind had to go to in order to keep you from going insane from boredom.
>Though, you were pretty much just playing games in the dark recesses of your mind.
>You hopped back to the beginning of your three thousand hour Skyrim journey, and went from there.
>You also just finished getting fucked by a dragon.
>And you didn't save.
>For an hour.
>"Aaand, done!"
>You stand perfectly still.
>"...That means you can move, now.'
"THANK JESUS."
>You take a quick step forward and grin, as if you just regained the ability to walk, after eight years of being paralyzed.

>After a quick sigh, a mirror is rolled over in front of you.
>Well shit, even if it's just pretty much a color change, you look fuckin' nice.
>And now, instead of your usual black suit, white shirt and red tie combo, you've got a...
>Well, really, everything's just inverted.
>And now you've got a white suit, a black shirt, and a blue tie.
>Oh, and a little front pocket with a handkerchief in it.
>It's pretty neat.
>Though, you can't help but admire how much softer everything is.
>You still didn't see the reason of having you stand there for so fucking long to duplicate everything, though.
>Hell, even when she was just sewing, she started flipping shit when you moved.
>It's like she gets a kick out of that.
>HELL, she didn't even let you CHANGE into the new clothes!
>She just did some magic crap, planted a few spells, then out of nowhere, you were wearing new stuff.
>You didn't even feel anything getting taken off.
>You smile at your own reflection, and Rarity walks over, with some juice or some shit in her magical grasp.
>Then she throws it on your suit.
"-THE FUCK, WHY?"
>She just stares at it for a moment, then smiles.
>"It worked!"
"-Worked? What worke-"
>You look at the mirror.
>You're spotless.
"What the heeell?"
>She pours a bit more on your pants.
>It just slides right off.
"That's fucking awesome."
>You glance over at the clock again.
>Twenty minutes.
"Oh damn. Does this thing stop sweat, too?"
>She nods, a prideful smile plastered on her face.
>You fish into your pockets and grab practically the last remaining bits you have.
>She stops you.
>"That won't be necessary, Anonymous. Consider it a good luck gift from a new friend."
>She smiles.
"Really? Damn, thanks!"
>She nods.
>"Now, then, I'd hurry along, if I were you! It's very rude to keep a lady waiting."
>You nod, grab your clothes, then fuck off quickly towards your house.

>Barely a minute running, and Rainbow starts flying beside you.
>"Hey, Anon, where ya running off to?"
"MY HOUSE."
>"Uh... and why are you RUNNING there? And what's with the new suit?"
"NO TIME TO EXPLAIN!"
>"What? There's ALWAYS time to explain! Now, what are you hiding?"
"WHY DO YOU WANT TO KNOW SO BADLY?"
>Holy shit, you're really out of shape.
>Only a few minutes, and you're practically wheezing already.
>"W-well, no reason! I-is it BAD to ask somepony what they're doing?"
"RIGHT NOW IT IS!"
>She huffs and folds her hooves, then starts flying away.
"-WAIT!"
>You take a moment to breathe, and Dash just stares, waiting for you to continue.
"Think you could fly me back?"
>She raises an eyebrow.
>"What's in it for ME?"
>You think for a moment.
"...My undying gratitude...?"
>She rolls her eyes.
"-Come on, Dash, I just really, REALLY gotta be back home right now. Can you help, just this once?"
>She thinks for a second, then sighs.
>"You're LUCKY I'm the Element of Loyalty."
>You smile, and before you can ask how everything's gonna work, she wraps her hooves under your shoulders, and lifts you up.
>REALLY quickly.
"-D-DASH, DON'T GO SO HIGH! I FUCKING HATE HEIGHTS!"
>"...DO you, now?"
>You can practically hear her smirking.
"D-DON'T DO ANYTHING! IF I DIE, IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!"
>And who knows where you'd end up, this time around?
>You die and end up here, but what happens if you die HERE, too?
>"Oh, WOOOAAAH, you're so heavy!"
>She folds her wings and starts dropping.
>It's only a few feet, but it felt like you fell off a damn skyscraper.
>Her wings come back out, and she grunts.
>"-Sheesh, you really ARE heavy!"
"JUST TAKE ME HOME!"

>"Whatever."
>You shut your eyes and just imagine yourself walking on the ground.
>-You can feel the wind brushing past, the cool breeze hitting your face...
>It just serves as a horrible reminder that you're probably a hundred feet in the air, being carried by someone half your size, who could easily drop you at any moment.
>Your heart hits mach one, and your eyes shoot open.
>-BAD IDEA.
"DON'T LET ME DIE, DASH!"
>"-Oh, quit your whining! You're worse than Rarity!"
>You spot your house in the distance.
>Oh sweet Jesus, you're finally almost off the ride.
>"-You know, you really need to lose weight!"
"I'M THE AVERAGE WEIGHT FOR MY SIZE!"
>"-Just saying."
>You spot your house just a few hundred feet away and smile.
>"-CELESTIA, you're heavy!"
>She grunts again.
>Oh god, she's going to drop you.
>You can feel her hooves starting to shake.
"DASH?"
>She just grunts in response.
"DASH DON'T DROP ME."
>"I'm... TRYING!"
"DASH!"
>You're so close to your house.
>Her hooves are now shaking really badly.
"DASH DON'T-"
>Your arm slips from one of her shoulders.
"OH MY GOD I'M FUCKED!"
>Dash tries her damnedest to keep her grip on you, but you can feel it quickly slipping.
"IF I BECOME A VEGETABLE JUST PULL THE PLUG!"
>She tries to hoist you up-
>And you slip.
>Now you're falling.
"OH FUUUUCK GRAB ME GRAB ME GRAB ME! FUCK MEEEE!!"
>Yep, you're fucking dead.
>You just hope that Rainbow pays for your funeral.
>It's the LEAST she could do, because that drop-scare was fucked up.
>You just wish you could think enough to come up with some cool last words.
>You had a few things planned out, actually, but none of it followed a drop from a hundred or more so feet from the ground.

>You continue mindlessly screaming and flailing your arms, then land on something moving.
>You instinctively latch onto it, eyes shut.
>It giggles.
>"Jeez, Anonymous, we haven't even gotten dinner, yet."
>Your eyes snap open to none other than Spitfire, smiling at you while you hug her neck.
"Oh my sweet Jesus, THANK you."
>"Mhmm."
>You're quickly taken to the front of your house, where you happily get off.
>Rainbow quickly flies beside you.
>"Anonymous, are you oka-"
>She turns to your savior.
>"S-Spitfire?! W-what are you doing here in P-P-Ponyville again?"
>An enormous smile breaks from Dash's face, and she just stands there, starstruck.
"And what TIME is it?"
>She looks at a small, golden watch wrapped around her left hoof.
>"Eh, it's not TOO early from six. Now come on, let's go."
>Dash just takes a moment to look between you both.
>And while she does, you take a moment to look at Spitfire's current ensemble.
>And even though it's on Spitfire, 'tough and commanding' pony extraordinaire, you have to admit, she looks really nice in it.
>She's in a simple red, sparkling dress that covers her whole chest and part of her hooves, with a back that flows over her tail and hind legs.
>She's wearing her mane down, and has a little pin that's a lightning bolt with wings, sitting just beside her left ear and holding the rest of her mane from flowing in her face.
>And, even though you NEVER saw her the type to, she's wearing a very light red eyeliner on top of it, as well as some lipstick of the same color, and some mascara.
>Personally, back on Earth, makeup scared you, because you never knew what kind of horrifying beast laid behind all those layers, but HERE...
>Hoooly shit, it just made her look way better-
>-NO, stop thinking that way!
>You're STILL not into ponies, remember?
>You're just going to get this date thing over with, then you'll never have to do it again.
>That's the plan, goddamn it.
>"Y-you're, y-you two, y-you're..."

>You turn to Dash.
>She looks like she just short a fuse in her brain.
>"Yes, Rainbow Dash, we're going out. Now, Anonymous,"
>She turns to you.
>"Come on, we're going out."
>You internally sigh and start walking forward.
>You turn to Dash while you do.
"Thanks for flying me here... Take care, Dash."
>You pat her head.
>She doesn't react, and just stares at you, eye twitching.
>-Okay, that's your cue to leave.
>You walk up to Spitfire, then glance back.
>Dash is now just staring at the spot you were in a few seconds ago.
>Creepy...
>"-So, Anonymous, where are we headed?"
>Her words take a twelve gauge to your memory.
>You didn't fucking think of where to go.
>And, if you don't do TONIGHT right, she'll just be back to bother you AGAIN tomorrow.
>FUCK.
"Ah, uh, well..."
>She just slowly turns to you and raises an eyebrow.
>SHE KNOWS.
"It's a... a surprise!"
>She lowers her brow.
>"Nice save, Anonymous. Now think about where we're going."
>Fuck, okay, kick this shit into high gear.
>Where would a pony like Spitfire enjoy eating?
>-Well fuck if you know, you barely know her yourself.
>-Then on that note, where would YOU like to go?
>...OTHER than home?
>You think for a moment.
>You think REALLY hard for a moment.
>...You have no goddamn clue.
>Then, you have a wonderful idea.
"You got anything sharp?"
>She shakes her head.
>Shit.
>Okay, you got this.
>You take a bit out of your pocket and kneel to the floor.
>"Anonymous, what are you doing?"
"Don't worry, I got this."

>You grab a rock and start scraping the bit with it.
>Once it's got a good looking mark on it, you stand up.
>Spitfire just watches you curiously.
>You also notice way more than a few ponies pointing you and Spitfire out.
>Either they're weirded out by your new suit, or Spitfire really IS a famous pony.
>Or maybe they're all surprised you're even near a mare other than Rainbow.
>...Fuck 'em.
>Alright, scratched mark is heads, clean is tails.
>You turn to Spitfire.
"Think of a number from one to ten."
>"-Seven."
>Jesus, that was quick.
>Alright.
>Heads means left, tails means right.
>You flip the coin.
>It lands on the scratched mark.
"Alright, let's keep going."
>She just follows you, and soon enough, you both end up at a turn.
>Left it is.
>You walk past some houses and stop at the turn up ahead.
>You flip the coin again.
>Right.
>You keep going, now walking into the market-area of the town.
>Ponies are making it REALLY noticeable that they're staring at you both.
>You make it to another turn and stop.
>Before you flip the coin, a filly comes running over to Spitfire, holding up a pair of goggles to her.
>"Mrs. Spitfire, can I get an autograph?"
>She smiles, then fishes around in a dress pocket you didn't even notice she had, then pulls out a marker.
>Fuck, you should've asked about a marker first, instead of ruining a bit...
>She signs the goggles, and the little one squees in excitement, before hugging her and running off, giggling.
>Spitfire just watches the kid go, with a little smile on her face.
>"MRS. Spitfire... I like that."
>She grins at you.
"-Just a DATE."
>She giggles.
>Damn, that's adora-
>SHUT THE FUCK UP.
>...Okay, back to the matter at hand.
>You flip the bit.
>Left.
>You're now near the center of the marketplace.
>This flipping thing seems promising, so far.
>...SO FAR.

>You end up at another turn, ignoring the small bit of ponies actually FOLLOWING you both.
>Left.
>Alright, now you're LEAVING the marketplace.
>Right.
>Now you're just next to a bunch of houses, with a restaurant or store every once and a while.
>Left.
>Now, you have no idea where the fuck you are.
>This looks like the equivalent of the shanties, even though all the houses here are still exactly the same as every other one.
>There's just, you know, less ponies walking around.
>Though there's still a bit that are following you.
>And they're all couples.
>You guess they're just following, hoping that you're leading them to some beautiful, hidden restaurant somewhere.
>You end up at the edge of the street and hold the coin in your hand.
>This is also the closest you've ever been to that forest, nearby.
>It's still not THAT close, but it looks spooky as fuck in there.
>You flip the coin, hoping by some amazing chance that you land a nice-ass restaurant hiding behind the corner.
>Though you also kind of don't, because you're paying for the shit, but still, you'd hate to see all this dressing up done for nothing.
>Because if it truly WAS your choice, you'd be at that Hayburger nearby your house.
>You sigh, then catch the coin.
>Left.
>Practically the corner of the town, in the area where nothing living or dead, resides.
>Shit.
>You done fucked up, Anon.
>Fucking gay dating tricks and shit.
>You should've just gone to that fucking Hayburger.
>You continue walking, then stop at the edge of the street.
>At the corner of it, is this shitty-looking place with a crooked, lit-up sign saying, 'OPEN' behind the window.
>-Well, it actually says O'EN, but still.
>The place doesn't even have a name.
>You both slowly walk up to it, starting to hear a lot of noise coming from the inside.
>You have the sudden feeling of dread in the back of your mind.
>You're probably going to get stabbed, or something.
>Even the couples behind you look freaked the fuck out.

>One of the mares following pipes up.
>"W-where are we?"
>You turn to her and shrug.
"I've never BEEN in this part of town, before."
>Well, fuck, here goes nothing...
>You hold your breath, then open the door.
>You unconsciously go in first in order to get the knife in your ribs, so Spitfire won't.
>The minute you do, everything stops.
>There's griffons everywhere.
>They all look at you.
>Your eyes trail over to-
>-Is that a bar?
>Then you look at a couple of them, sitting around a table.
>-ARE THOSE BURGERS?
>REAL, JUICY, ONCE ALIVE BURGERS?
>In your excitement, you beam and just look at the griffon closest to you.
"YOU GUYS HAVE BEEF HERE?"
>She slowly nods.
>You throw your hands up, ignoring all of the griffons just staring at you.
"FUCK YEEAAH, BURRGERRS!"
>Then all the griffons yell and cheer in unison, before going back to what they were doing before.
>Spitfire walks in and just stands before you.
>A couple stands by the door, trying to peek over you.
>You turn to them, still beaming with a retarded, toothy smile on your face.
"They sell MEAT here, guys!!"
>The mare shrinks, and the guy immediately throws up outside.
>Everyone behind you screams and clears out.
>OH MAN, THEY SELL FUCKING MEAT, HERE!
>The lady-griffon looks at you, then you realize that she's a waitress.
>She holds the menus under a wing.
>"Table for two?"
>You vigorously nod, then follow her through the place.
>You get tons of curious looks from the griffons as you walk past all the tables.
>Though the majority aren't looking at YOU.
>-Oh shit, Spitfire!
>You look back and see her just, lagging behind, slowly walking past and looking at all the griffons uneasily.
>You pause and let her catch up, pure excitement just radiating off all over you.
>You wrap an arm around her and squeeze, and she blushes.
>Your face is really starting to fucking hurt from smiling like this.

>You get Spitfire to quicken her pace with the waitress, and soon enough, you're both seated at a table.
>The griffon lights this little candle in the middle of it, then hands you your menus.
>"So, my name's Linda, and I'll be your server today. To start off, may I get you two something to drink?"
>You look at the back of the menu.
>Aw yiss, based Hay-Cola.
>This place just gets fucking better and better.
"Hay-Cola, please!"
>"Okay. And for the missus?"
>Spitfire just looks at you, then the bar behind the waitress.
>"Got any scotch?"
>She nods.
>"I'll take that, fine."
>The griffon nods again.
>"Okay, I'll give you a few minutes to decide on what you want, and I'll be back soon- if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask!"
>You and Spitfire nod, then-
>-Wait, did she just order an alcoholic drink?
>You don't know why, but the thought of her being drunk really scares you.
>You barely remember anything from yesterday, though.
>And you know you remembered a lot about it, but kind of like a dream, it all just faded away after a while.
>You turn to her, an uneasy look still plastered on her face.
>Her eyes slowly trail to you, and she fakes a smile.
>...Well...
>Fuck it, you took her to some shantytown burger bar filled with griffons.
>The least you can do is let her have a drink...
>She looks at her unopened menu.
>"Soo... meat, huh?"
>Your mind replays the outburst you just made a few minutes ago, and you blush.
"Yeah, sorry about getting so excited. Meat was a BIIIG part of my life, back home."
>She nods.
>God, she looks kinda miserable.
>It's making you sad.
>N-not that you care about how she's feeling or anything, but you don't want her to r-ruin your mood, too...
"We can always go and find another place, if you want."
>She shakes her head and fakes a bigger smile.
>"N-no, it's fine, really."
"-Wow, you are incredibly bad at hiding your emotions."
>Maybe even worse than YOU.
>And that's saying something.

>She sighs.
>"That obvious, huh?"
>You nod.
>"I-I don't know. J-just, the thought of eating another, LIVING creature..."
>She cringes.
>You shrug.
"Best thing to do is just remember that animals do it all the time. Food chain stuff right there. Also, don't think about what it's MADE of, and just eat it. That's how I survived eating cow brains."
>She gasps and suddenly has the most horrified look you've ever seen, ever.
>"Y-you ate C-COW BRAINS?!"
>You nod.
"-Though, cows back home aren't as smart here as they were there. They were really damn stupid."
>...Or, maybe they had some kind of telepathic communication between each other and had ascended a higher plane of existence, only acting stupid for the sole reason of our own understanding?
>...Nah.
>They're just stupid and delicious.
>Spitfire calms a bit, but still looks spooked.
"Hey, you should've seen MY reaction when I found out they were cow brains. Usually, I just don't question what stuff's made out of and eat it if it's good, but that was much, MUCH different."
>"W-what happened?"
>You wave a hand.
"Oh, I just threw up all over the table and fainted."
>-And pissed yourself a bit, but she doesn't need to know that.
>You were also four, so you were young enough for it to be horrible, but old enough for it to be funny later on in life.
>Your dad never let that shit go.
>Spitfire giggles.
"But see, I don't NEED meat to live or anything, hence the sharpened, AND flat teeth."
>You show your teeth off.
"It's just nice to have. Real blast from the past type stuff, you know?"
>She nods, loads calmer, now.
"And burgers really take me back, to the times when I'd go to this place with my friends all the time."
>She stays silent, waiting for you to continue.
"It was actually a bar, too, but I think it only served beer- I'm not exactly sure. We'd all buy burgers, sit at the bar, and watch football."
>And you'd pretend to actually give a shit about the game, just to have some kind of human interaction for once.

>Though your kind of interaction spanned mostly to primitive cheers of victory and slurred chatter over 'relationship issues'.
>...It makes you kind of glad to be here.
>To have someone to ACTUALLY talk to, instead of just drinking and watching shit with them.
>Hell, even here in Equestria, that's basically what Dash is.
>Really no chatter between you both, and just something that you both do.
>It's like some kind of symbiotic relationship, more than a friendship.
>...That makes you kinda sad.
>And Spitfire immediately picks up on it.
>"Something wrong?"
>You instinctively shake your head.
"N-no..."
>"-Wow, you are incredibly bad at hiding your emotions."
>You frown.
>She just giggles.
>"Really, though, what's wrong, Anonymous?"
>You sigh, then look at those sparkling bronze eyes of hers, gazing into-
>-GODDAMN IT.
>You clear your throat, and shake your head, unconsciously twiddling your thumbs together.
"It's nothing."
>She slowly puts a hoof on your hands, a small, comforting smile on her face.
>"You just finished telling me you ate a cow's brain. I'm pretty sure nothing can be worse than that."
>...Well, she IS right, in that regard.
>Still though, you're not a fan of talking emotional shit with ANYONE.
>Unless it's people on the internet that can't make fun of or see you, of course.
>Hell, you never even talked to your own father about your feelings and shit, and he's the psychiatrist.
>You shake your head.
"Maybe if I ever get high or something, I'll tell you."
>She just brings her other hoof over and continues rubbing your hands.
>You get this weird, very small warm feeling while she does.
>It's like she hit some kind of nerve in your hand or something.
>You don't like it very much.
>"You can tell me anything, Anon."
>The second she says that, a little thing pops into your mind.
>You suddenly remember a bit from yesterday.
>You just remember being almost completely naked, sitting on the floor while she cried in your arms.
>...Probably a dream.

>There's no way something like THAT could've ever happened.
>A weird fucking dream, though.
>But... something in the back of your mind is telling you that it actually happened...
>-Well, that back of your mind is obviously retarded, then.
>Weak or not, the alcohol here obviously did a number on your head.
>The griffon comes by with the drinks, and she just smiles at you two.
>"You two look happy together."
>You frown.
"Oh, uh, we're not together."
>"...Mhmm, okay, sure."
"We're NOT!"
>She just smiles at you.
>"So, then, did you guys decide on what you want?"
>-Oh shit, you forgot to check the fuckin' menu!
>Spitfire did, too.
"I, uh, think we'll need a few more minutes."
>She nods and looks at you.
>"Well, it'd probably help if you looked at the menu, instead of staring into each other's eyes like that."
>You huff and roll your eyes.
>The waitress laughs, then walks away.
>Nigger.
>You instinctively pick up your menu, and Spitfire fumbles around with hers for a moment, before opening it up, obviously lost somewhere.
>Oh, man, the list is glorious.
>Though, because you've spent so much time staring at menus with meat things, you don't feel excited.
>It's like you're back home, and this is just a casual dinner out somewhere.
>You enjoy the familiar feeling.
>Another griffon waitress walks by, and you sigh.
>You miss Earth.
>Even though it's been four years, and you've pretty much gotten over it, it's still a big enough deal to make you wish you were there.
>And being here just brushed you up on something you never thought of, before.
>It's like selling a couch, then after four years, staring at your keys and realizing that you had left the original pair of keys INSIDE the fucking thing.
>Which you've had happen before, actually.
>It fucking sucks.

>You bring your focus back the the menu before you.
>-HOLY SHIT IS THAT STEAK?!
>You accidentally squeak in excitement.
>...You hope Spitfire didn't hear that.
>You casually glance across the menu, and see her just smiling at you.
>-FUCK, SHE DID.
>You slowly hide your face with your menu and just resume browsing.
>Okay, so, steak is now definitely an option.
>This is all just a matter of what you want to remember first.
>Ribs, burgers...
>Daaamn, even lamb!
>Fuckin' NICE!
>You scan and filter out the shit you don't want into three beautiful choices.
>Aged ribeye steak with a baked potato and corn, a whole rack of ribs drenched in barbecue sauce and sided with mashed potatoes, or a bleu cheese mushroom burger with fries...
>Damn...
>This is probably the toughest choice you've ever had to make in your LIFE.
>You rub your face with a hand in thought.
>-Oh shit, here comes the waitress!
>-Oh shit, here comes the waitress...
>Bitch.
>You instantly frown.
>It's not a rude frown, though, just because you don't want to have your food spat in, but it's enough to give her the message that you're still sour about earlier.
>She sees your frown, and the smile on her face just grows.
>"So, what can I get you two lovebirds today?"
>-FUCKING-
>You stop yourself from cursing and take a very deep breath as a result.
>She just laughs.
>Your eye twitches.
>You just blink and angrily stare at the menu before you.
>And because of that, she turns to Spitfire first.
>"What would YOU like?"
>"...I'll get a garden salad, please."
>The griffon nods, then puts this shit-eating grin on her face before turning to you.
>"And you, dear sir?"
>You drop the menu and immediately notice Spitfire looking elsewhere.
>More importantly, at the people eating.
>And more importantly importantly, at WHAT they're eating.
>She looks kind of... disturbed.
>You internally sigh.
>The carnivore in you is pissed off now.
"Make that two salads."

>Spitfire's ears perk up, and she just turns to you.
>Even the waitress looks surprised.
>"You sure?"
>You nod, then give Spitfire a small smile while she just looks at you with a confused look.
>The waitress, of course, notices, while she takes the menus.
>She just looks between you both, then smiles at you, again.
>"Pft, and you say you're not a couple."
>Before you can say anything, she laughs and walks away.
>So you settle on flipping her off, instead.
>You turn back and Spitfire's still just staring at you, shocked.
>"...How come you didn't get any meat things?"
>You shrug.
"Wouldn't be fair to enjoy something like that while you just have a salad."
>She pauses, then a smile slowly graces her face.
>It makes you smile.
>Then you blink and will it into a blank look.
>Her smile widens, and she just rolls her eyes.
>And now with nothing to look at, your eyes trail to your drink.
>-Oh shit, it's probably all watered down, now...
>You take a sip and internally shrug.
>It's still bearable.
>You take a bigger sip, and see Spitfire glancing at her drink, now.
>Reminds you of that thing your dad told you about.
>The sudden impulse of eating or drinking when you see someone else doing it.
>It's obviously not just a human thing.
>She takes her glance and downs half the thing.
>She clears her throat, then just takes your drink while you're in the process of sipping on it.
>You're just left with the straw in your mouth while she takes a big sip herself.
>You just stare at her, and after a moment, she slides the drink under the straw again.
>"S-sorry about that. This drink is REALLY strong..."
>You raise an eyebrow and grab the drink.
>The smell alone is pretty strong.
>You take an extremely small sip.
>And it still burns your throat on the way down.
>Holy shit, that's some pretty potent stuff.

>This oughta be your go-to place, instead!
>Meat, better drinks, scary griffons...
>What more could someone want?
>You turn back to Spitfire, now extremely impressed at the half of the drink she downed.
>-HOLY SHIT SHE DOWNED HALF OF IT.
>You remember the tolerance levels of ponies perfectly clear, and Spitfire just drank probably five times past that limit.
>Holy hell.
>Either she's going to pass out, or be EXTREMELY drunk.
>She hiccups.
>That means extremely drunk.
>-Oh shit, and she hasn't even EATEN anything, yet!
>That means it's going to be WORSE.
>You flag down a guy griffon, and he walks up to you both.
>"Anything you need?"
"Could you swap out her drink for a Hay-Cola like mine?"
>Spitfire dumbly nods, then hiccups.
>He looks back at you.
>"So, she's done with it?"
>You nod.
>Before you can say anything else, he takes the glass and just empties it into his mouth.
>He sighs, then pats your shoulder.
>"...Finish school, man."
>He walks away.
>...What the fuck.
>You turn back to Spitfire, who just hiccups again, then smiles at you.
>"Anon, I am REEEAAALLLY drunk right now."
>You simply nod.
"I can tell."
>She giggles, then hiccups midway through.
>You feel a sudden twinge of panic in your gut.
>Not sure why, exactly.
>Though it's definitely there.
>You also feel a bit... excited?
>So you're pretty much apprehensive, then.
>Still not sure why, though.
>But you guess you'll find out, soon enough.
>Then you see the griffon come back to the table with a glass full of soda.
>He places it before Spitfire, and-
>She's looking at you.
>She's got her head propped up on her hooves, looking at you dreamily with a pair of half-lidded eyes.
>She doesn't even glance at the drink.
>She's just staring into your eyes.

"...Uh, you okay, Spitfire?"
>She nods, hiccups, then smiles.
>"Never been better, Anon..."
>You simply nod in response, then take a sip of your drink.
>You pause when you feel something under the table.
>She's brushing you with one of her hind legs.
"Uh... what are you doing?"
>"Nooothing~"
>You click your tongue.
"Well, it doesn't really FEEL like nothing..."
>You take a sip of your drink.
>A seductive smile crosses her face.
>"Want it to BE something?"
>You choke on your soda, and it spills all over your suit.
>-It just slides off and stays on the seat.
>You don't even FEEL it being wet.
>Awesome.
>You wipe that shit down with a napkin and smile.
>Man, your suit would be FUCKED if it weren't for that spell thing.
>Thank Jesus.
>-Well, thank Rarity, actually.
>The two should not be compared to each other.
>You look back up, still feeling her brushing your leg.
>She bites her lip.
>"Sooo... What do you say we go to the bathroom, do a little 'waiting' in there until our salads come?"
>Your eyes widen.
>Did she...
>Did she just say that?
>Another memory from yesterday.
>-Actually, EVERYTHING hits you.
>You remember something about a shower, a spaghetti dinner at three in the morning, and being pinned on the couch by her.
>Oh, Jesus.
>That's where the feeling in your stomach came from.
>But... excitement?
>That's... just, no!
>The excited part of your apprehensiveness was obviously from something else.
>OBVIOUSLY.
>And that's final.
>You feel her leg move upwards.
>"Weeell?"
>You quickly shake your head.
>She pouts-
>-GOD, YOU REMEMBER THIS, TOO!
>You try shielding your eyes, but she hits you with a full blown lip-quiver-big-eyed-look-in-a-begging-stance pout.

>And as much as you wouldn't like to admit it, that pout of hers is REALLY potent.
>She looks incredibly adorable like that.
>It'd be difficult to say no to her for ANYTHING.
>But still, you won't do... THAT, no matter how many times she pouted.
>You hesitate, but simply shake your head.
>"...W-why not? D-d-do you... do you not like me?"
>Her fake pouting actually becomes genuine.
>Just with waterier eyes.
"N-no, it's not that! But, if we both leave, then they'll think we left and clear the table for someone else!"
>-Nice save, Anon.
>"O-oh... right..."
>The leg rubbing stops, and her eyes trail to the table.
>You feel the horribly confusing need to comfort her.
>-Well, it's not THAT confusing.
>It's just wanting to cheer up an acquaintance.
>...Though for some reason, your mind is completely unsatisfied with that explanation.
>...Well fuck you too, mind.
>Before you can think, you put your hand on one of her hooves.
>Ohshitniggerwhatthefuckareyoudoing.jpg
>It's like you're not even in any goddamn control right now.
"Look, we don't need to do any of... THAT, to make this night enjoyable, right?"
>She looks up at you, then slightly smiles and nods.
>You quickly retract your hand and stare at the traitorous appendage in anger.
>Fuckin' hands.
>She takes a sip of her drink, and instinctively, you do the same.
>You catch yourself and smile.
>Then frown.
>Man, you really miss your family...
>You'd all go to Applebee's every Friday, and just, well, BEING here, reminds you of that too.
>You softly sigh.
>"What's wrong, Anon?"
>You look up and see Spitfire just staring at you with a concerned expression, a drunken blush covering both her cheeks.

>You wave your hand.
"It's nothing."
>She narrows her eyes and glares, then her look fades into another one of concern.
>"Why won't you talk to me, Anon?"
>She puts her hoof on your hand again.
>"You can always talk to me, Anon. It's what I'm here for..."
>-Funny.
>And here you were, thinking she was just here to force you on dates and eat up your time.
>Silly Anonymous.
>...Though, she IS really pleasant to be with...
>-FUCK YOU, BRAIN.
>There's...
>Ah...
>Who are you kidding?
>She IS pleasant to be with.
>But only pleasant out of all the ponies you've talked with since you've been here.
>Which is like... less than ten.
>-But it's not HER that's pleasant.
>It's just the company- being something LIVING to talk to, that's pleasant.
>"...Anon?"
>You blink and see her, eyes starting to water.
"S-sorry. I just... I don't like talking about my emotions with anyone."
>"W-why?"
>You shrug.
"A lot of reasons, but no major one. I never even talked to my own family about my feelings."
>She nods and just rubs your hand.
>"Well, I'm not your family. You can tell me whatever you want to."
>-Never happening.
>Ever.
"Thanks."
>She nods, continuing to rub your hand comfortingly.
>You'd move, but you just don't want to be rude.
>But you don't like it.
>At all.
>You're just not a rude person.
>It's like someone opening a door for you, then you just giving them the finger and walking through the closed one next to them.
>You just don't do it.
>Out of your peripherals, you see the waitress coming by with your plates.
>You yank your hand back with tremendous speed.

>She comes up to your table with two salads and one of those crankable cheese grater things on a tray.
>She just smiles while she places a salad in front of Spitfire.
>...Maybe she didn't see anything?
>"Cheese?"
>"-Oh, yes, please."
>The waitress starts grating.
>-Oh shit, maybe she DIDN'T see it!
>Spitfire asks her to stop, and the waitress moves over to you, leaving her with a small blanket of cheese over her salad.
>She looks at you.
>"Cheese?"
"Yes, please."
>...Cool.
>She didn't see anything-
>"-I saw you holding her hoof, by the way."
>Spitfire drunkenly giggles.
>You feel your face heat up.
"I-I wasn't HOLDING her hoof! Sh-she just had her hoof on my hand! She was comforting me, as a FRIEND."
>She clicks her tongue.
>"Yeah, well, you seem to be getting AWFULLY friendly with her, too."
>Spitfire giggles again.
>You huff and fold your arms.
"Whatever. Just cheese the salad, already..."
>She gives a mock salute, then starts grinding cheese onto your plate.
>"Just tell me when to stop."
>You watch your plate as cheese is just slowly piled up on it.
>After a while, it just becomes cheese topped with cheese.
>She looks at you, still grating.
>"You know... whenever you don't want cheese, just say something."
>You nod.
>You just keep watching the cheese.
>It starts piling up.
>You stare blankly at it.
>"...Any day, now..."
"Keep going."
>You stare coldly at her, then the cheese.
>She just nods.
>The cheese continues to pile up, now making a small mound on your plate.
>"Are you just going to use all the cheese-"
"-I'll tell you when to stop."
>She continues grating, and eventually, it just finishes.
>There's now a small mountain of mozzarella on your plate.
>You can't even see the salad anymore.
>She just stares at your plate for a moment.
>"...Well, now you got some extra cheese for your marefriend, right?"
>Your eye twitches.
>She laughs and walks away.
>Dirty Jew bird.

>Spitfire stares at your plate.
>"A-are you actually going to eat THAT?"
>You shrug and smile.
"Well, I always WAS curious as to where I'd end up next if I died here."
>She stiffens, and her face quickly turns into one of pure worry and shock.
>Her eyes start to water, and her ears fall so her sides.
>"P-please d-don't, Anon... D-don't l-leave me..."
>You raise your hands up.
>You see a tear fall down her cheek.
"-W-what? No, Spitfire, it was just a joke. I'm not ACTUALLY going to eat cheese until I die."
>She sniffles.
>"W-what?"
"It was a joke. I'm not stupid enough to cheese myself to death."
>-You could definitely eat meat until you died, though.
>You'd happily do the shit out of that anyday.
>She wipes her eyes and sniffles again.
>"O-oh..."
>You just smile.
"It's nice to know that you worry so much, though."
>It's definitely not something you ever saw your other friends do.
>Hell, those niggers didn't even visit you in the hospital...
>She just nods, then starts slowly eating her salad, eyes only a bit redder.
>It's making you sad really quickly.
"Y-yeah, so, sorry, about that... Shouldn't of made a joke like that."
>She gives you a small smile in response.
>"It's okay, Anonymous... I-I just really don't like the thought of anything bad happening to you..."
>You simply smile and nod.
>...Man, she is a LOT more emotional drunk than she is sober.
>And you're pretty much the complete opposite of that.
>-She still looks really sad, though...
>Gotta diffuse this.
"So, then... how'd you become a Wonderbolt, exactly?"
>Her ears perk up, and she just looks at you.
>"You want to know?"
>You nod.
"Well yeah, of course. I barely know anything about you."
>A small smile forms on her face, and she mindlessly grabs a bite of her salad.
>"W-well, it all started when I was a little filly..."

>You scoot a bit closer in your seat and take a sip of your drink, then grab a handful of cheese and chew on that.
>"I remember being in flight camp at the time..."
>You just listen closely.
>"It was all during my final year there, actually. The Wonderbolts themselves had been routinely coming around the camp for future recruit material. They were there for about a week, and that day was the last one they were there for."
>Her smile widens.
>"I hadn't gotten the chance to see them earlier or strut my stuff, so when one of the team showed up, I was so excited..."
>She looks off into the distance a bit.
>"We were going to just do a simple team exercise, and Light Speed HIMSELF had showed up. He was my favorite of all the Wonderbolts, and I asked for an autograph and told him my dream of being a Wonderbolt, the second I saw him."
>She takes a sip of her drink, still smiling.
>"I'll never forget that moment... He had told me that he didn't have a pen or marker on him, so he just gave me his flight goggles, instead... It was one of the greatest moments in my life."
>She looks up at you.
>"-I still have them too, actually. His name was engraved on the side of it."
"Huh. Neat."
>She nods.
>"I wore them as soon as I got them, and went over to the other fillies and colts for the exercise. I remember being so proud that I had those goggles, even though they were just given to me."
>"I remember the exercise was just a small obstacle course, and everypony was split into four teams for it. The fastest team to all arrive at the finish line first, won."
>"...But, of course, nopony was able to keep up with me."
>She laughs.
>"I went through that course like I had rehearsed it a thousand times- that's how easy it was."
>"...But the second I looked back at the others in my team, there was this huge explosion from behind me, over on the other side of the camp. I remember it being really loud, and there was this weird rainbow that came out of it."
>You simply nod.

>You coulda sworn you've heard something about a rainbow explosion from Dash...
>You can't remember for shit, though.
>"The explosion blinded everypony but me, only because I was looking away from it. Once I had seen that the ponies on my team were blinded and all disoriented, I flew over and helped them out... Dealing with eight ponies who couldn't see or fly right was a big challenge for me."
>She takes another bite of her salad, then just drowns it with her drink.
>"I somehow helped and guided everypony back to the main camp's cloud, then I had this Cutie Mark appear on my flank. About half way, Light Speed had seen me helping the others, and told me that I looked like a natural born leader, and would be perfect for the Wonderbolts. He gave me a pamphlet for the recruitment camps, and once I was able to, I signed up, and the rest is history."
>She finishes off with a smile, then takes another bite of her salad.
"Wow. That's probably more interesting than the sum of my entire life to date..."
>She waves a hoof.
>"Oh, please, there has to be at least ONE thing in your life that was exciting!"
>You pause and think for a moment.
>You shake your head.
"I mean, there was one time I was attacked by a giraffe at the zoo, but that was more terrifying than exciting, really..."
>"So... there isn't a SINGLE thing in your life that you thought was exciting? Nothing?"
>You shake your head.
"If anything in my life was exciting, it's obviously not exciting enough for me to remember it."
>"...What about good moments, then? What's the best thing that's ever happened to you in your life?"
>You think for a moment, then shrug again.
>She gasps.
>"Y-you can't be serious!"
"Yeah. I just, I... can't really think of anything memorable that's happened in my life..."
>You twirl the straw in your drink for a moment.
"The most exciting thing for me was just ending up here, but I can't really think of any happy moments I've had."

Spitfire just stares at you, slack-jawed.
>You shrug.
"I may be an alien from another planet, but on that planet, I was pretty boring, by their standards."
>But you were happy with it.
>"W-well... what did you do for a living? What was your job?"
"Eh, I was pretty much just a desk jockey for my dad."
>"...A 'desk jockey'? What's that?"
"Just some guy who sits at a desk and does work from it. I handled appointments and stuff."
>"...Appointments for what?"
"Therapy sessions. My dad was a psychiatrist."
>"Oh, that's neat! What about your mom?"
"Oh, uh, she just... s-stayed home."
>"...Oh."
>You can tell by the look in her face that she's just hit a stump.
>She's now got nowhere else to go with the conversation.
"...Sorry, I'm just, ah, not that exciting a person, honestly. Not many exciting things to remember in my life."
>She softly smiles, then puts her hoof on your hand again.
>"Well... We've still got plenty of time to make some exciting memories of our own."
>...We.
>As much as you'd like to disagree with yourself...
>You like the sound of that.
>-Just, uh, you know, with human women, instead...
>Yeah, can't disagree with THAT.
>You look down at your hand.
>There's been an awful lot of hoof-hand stuff going on tonight, hasn't there?
>-Purely platonic, though.
>It's no big deal.
>You slowly move your hand away and look back to your salad, trying to find the actual salad part of it, buried underneath all that cheese.
>Your devious plan was just to have the waitress suffer through grinding cheese almost indefinitely, but holy shit, she had really mauled that fucking block...
>So you kind of suffered from that.
>You internally shrug and grab a handful of cheese, snacking on it like popcorn, bit by bit.

>Spitfire's words click into your mind.
>She didn't even hesitate when she said that.
>It's like she already knows that you'll fall for her.
>-Well, knows that there's the POSSIBILITY.
>But you're strong.
>You won't give into this.
>No body- or pony, can just force you to like them like that.
>You haven't been interested in ponies, and you sure as hell won't start.
>Your dad, even while being in another world, would surely frown at you for that.
>-Well, not really, actually.
>In fact, your dad would probably defend the shit out of you, even if you told him you got off to tables, or some shit like that.
>...Your dad was a cool guy.
>He made a kid bullying you in your high school cry once by making him question his very existence.
>That shit was awesome.
>Though you never saw him after that day...
>...Meh.
>He was a dick.
>Who cares if you like wearing sweaters during the summer?
>Is having sun protection and extra pockets in the heat REALLY that bad a thing?
>...Dick.
>In your stupor, you notice Spitfire staring off into space before you.
>You wave your hand.
"Something on your mind?"
>She shakes her head.
>"Not much... besides you."
>She flashes a smile.
"Well it's probably not normal to think about someone that much."
>"It can be whatever you want it to be."
>She bats her eyelashes.
>Why does this one always make things so... lewd?
>And how is she so GOOD at it?
>...You're just thankful it's not doing anything to you- you know... down there.
>The shame would be overwhelming.
>...And probably the confusion.
>Hell, have you thought about being in a relationship with a pony?
>Of-fucking-course.
>Being the only one on the entire planet kind of forces you to do that, but you still aren't fond of the idea.
>And... you just don't get how... THAT, would work.
>Like, these ponies are three and a half feet on all fours, and you're six feet.
>The height difference would just...
>-And why the hell are you thinking about this?!
>You're not going to DO Spitfire here.

>Your words bring a small shade of red with them.
>Spitfire's ears fold slightly, and she gives you another sultry grin.
>"Hmm... What are YOU thinking about? Something... fun?"
>You feel your face get even warmer.
"W-what?! N-no! Why would I ever think of something like that?!"
>"Oh, I don't know..."
>She starts brushing your leg again.
>You try to pretend you don't feel it.
>You just start sipping your drink and admiring the scenery around you.
>This place pretty much IS Applebee's.
>There's all this sports and old school memorabilia stuff hung up everywhere.
>Black and white photos of who you're assuming are famous ponies and griffons.
>Carriage license plates, sports equipment, big, cartoon drawings...
>-And that guy even looks like the ponified version of Walt Disney!
>You feel a hoof on your thigh.
>You look over and see her reaching under the tab-
"-JESUS!"
>You immediately scoot back a little bit.
>"...What? You already got me dinner..."
>She just giggles.
>My god, this pony...
>It's only the first date.
>It just makes you wonder how much of the alcohol is talking.
>...Though, they don't call it 'liquid courage' for nothing.
>And, as they say, a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts.
>-Or, a drunk MARE's thoughts.
>You shake your head and slowly scoot up, eying Spitfire.
>And you get that a distance like this is acceptable for ponies, but how close to her you are is kinda ridiculous.
>Or simply put, if two humans were here, you'd be fighting for leg room under the table.
>It's just not a big table for you.
>But since Spitfire's legs don't even work in a way to interfere with yours, you've got the whole bottom part to yourself.
>Which is probably why she's taking advantage of it so much.
>You're practically doing this to yourself.
>It's like driving into a black neighborhood with a BMW.
>Something can, and probably will happen.

>You look down at your salad.
>You still haven't even gotten past the cheese.
>You've reduced it to a small mound, but it's still enough to cover all the salad.
>You sigh, then just grab as much as the stuff as you can.
>You drop it onto a napkin, then just stare at the salad.
>It's looks like there's a lot more of it now than there was, before.
>All that damn cheese has gotten you pretty full...
>But you paid for this shit.
>And you know that if you throw this in your fridge, you won't eat it.
>It cools stuff down, but it also makes it weirdly unappetizing.
>Your dad told you it was another psychological thing.
>-In fact, he told you that a lot.
>He even told you that the position of your couch was a psychological thing.
>And you always believed the hell out of him of everything, just because of the degree he had.
>Though looking back at it, now, some things might not have been entirely true.
>You just don't get how cleaning the house 'decreased your chances of getting Alzheimer's'.
>Hell, you didn't even KNOW what Alzheimer's was at the time.
>"Soo..."
>You look up at Spitfire, who's tapping her hooves together, looking off to the side with a nervous smile on her face.
>"D-do you, uh, need help finishing your salad?"
>...Help?
>Who asks if someone needs 'help' finishing something?
>If you're hungry, you just say, 'you gonna eat that?'.
>"-B-because, y-you know, if you want... we could share that..."
>-Oh.
>Well that makes a lot more sense, n-
>-Wait.
>...SHARE?
"Uhh..."
>"Just, y-you know, if you want to..."
>Well...
>You really don't want to see this salad go to waste...
>You sigh.
"J-just this once."
>She beams and flies over into your lap, getting comfy on your chest.
>She just looks up at you and smiles.
"-Uh... w-what are you doing?"
>"Well, aren't we gonna share?"

"Yeah, but, I didn't mean we'd share a chair-"
>"-Too late, I'm already here! Now feed me!"
"-What?"
>"I can't eat with forks, Anon!"
>And you were just about to ask yourself why Spitfire seemed so caring of what you wanted right now.
"But didn't you just eat your salad with your mouth?"
>"Yeah, but then how would we share it?"
>You open your mouth to speak, then pause.
>Well, that's kinda true.
>That would be weird.
>And you'd probably get pony spit all over the salad.
>And you don't want that.
>You sigh and pick up your fork.
>She squeaks and beams in response.
>You get some of the salad and just bring it up to her.
>She snaps at it like a turtle and smiles.
>You scoot a little bit closer.
"Couldn't you just bring your chair-"
>"-Too LATE, Anon! I'm not moving!"
"-Well, I could probably-"
>"-Feed me!"
>You pause, then sigh.
>You stab some more lettuce with your fork and bring it up to her.
>This time, she doesn't snap at it.
>Her tongue swirls around the fork, brushing and polishing the base and its handle.
>She holds it still with both of her hooves, then rolls over the prongs very slowly.
>She keeps it in her mouth and starts gently sucking on it, before pulling slightly away and taking it back in.
>Then she starts making these wet, sloppy noises while doing so.
>She takes up a faster pace and covers the whole thing in saliva, which just drips and slides off your slacks.
>She looks into your eyes.
>Her eyelids partially close, and she slows the speed of her mouth.
>She moves her rump to sit just above Anon Jr.
>Finally, she gives a soft, long moan, and does a stroking motion over the fork handle with her hooves.
>She pulls away and continues staring at you, then swallows.
>You just stare at her.
"Spitfire?"
>"-Yes, Anon?"
"...What the hell was that?"

>"Nooothing..."
>...You're not really even sure how to really respond to what just happened.
>She just...
>Damn, you just hope nobody else saw that.
>You're pretty sure that was lewd enough to justify you both getting kicked out.
>You look at your fork, covered in slobber and violated to the nth degree.
>-Fuck this, you'll use your hands.
>You put the fork down and grab a small piece of lettuce.
>Spitfire just watches you curiously as you eat it.
>"Y-you aren't going to use the fork, Anon?"
>You look down at the thing, just lying in a puddle of spit on the table.
"I'd rather not, honestly."
>She pouts.
"-You know, pouting or not, there's a certain line that my very BEING would not allow me to cross."
>You point at the fork.
"And I'm pretty sure that thing is like, thirty times over it."
>She huffs and crosses her hooves.
"And, you're still sitting ON me. Lap is okay, but this I'm not a fan of."
>"Why not?"
>She does a circular motion with her rump on you.
>She basically just grinded you.
"-Because it's only the first time we've been out, and you're also horribly drunk."
>She hiccups and giggles.
"Case and point."
>"Oh come ooonnn, Anon! I'm not THAT drunk."
>You move yourself to the side and gently push her with your finger.
>She immediately starts losing her balance, and you grab her before she falls.
>She just scrunches at you.
>You sigh.
"You know, at this point, I've seen you drunk longer than I've seen you sober."
>She stays silent.
>You look at her.
>She suddenly looks sad.

>And while this pony practically dragged you out here on a threat to annoy you for eternity, you can't help but feel a bit bad seeing her like this.
>But really, it's just because she's a pony.
>Nobody likes seeing something cute being sad, and the majority of the ponies living here are walking heart attacks.
>"I... I'm sorry."
>Her eyes glisten with tears.
>"I just, I..."
>Her voice trails off, likely in a second thought.
>Which is odd, considering how wasted she seems to be.
>You watch while her gaze trails to the floor, all these different emotions playing with her expression.
>Before you can ask what's wrong, she flaps her wings and plants herself back in the seat across from you.
>Even more surprising, at least based on what little you know about her.
>Her demeanor really did a one eighty, though.
"Hey, you alright?"
>-Oh, what the hell kind of question is that?
>She looks ready to break down at a moment's notice, of fucking course she's not alright.
>Her stare phases through the table, but you notice her eyeing all the Griffons around the place.
>But not in like, a hostile or lewd sense.
>More like a, "man i wish i knew this party was gonna be filled with niggers beforehand" kind.
>You sigh and think of a possible solution here.
>Gotta remember, the better this night is, the better your chances of escaping her clutches.
>...Probably.
>Man, you hope so.
>You've got a whole lot of nothing to do on your own time, and daily visits from her would definitely ruin that.
>You catch that Linda chick and flag her down with a hand.
>She dons a smug look on her face the second she sees you, and you can't help but frown.
>"Whatcha need? Sundae to share?"
"Actually, boxes to go and the bill, please."
>She looks almost insulted for a moment, until she sees how sad Spitfire looks.
>Her whole expression changes, and she gives a quick nod before hopping away.
>"Y...you're going?"
"No, WE're going."
>That gets a small, sad smile out of her, which you're glad to see.