Forced Date [Spitfire]

Prompt: Spitfire has been trying to get your attention for months, but you're just too thick. She's had enough and decided if you won't take an interest in her by choice, she'll make you do it by force!

Congratulations, you have a date!


>Standing in front of the mirror, you adjust your tie for the ninth time.
>The knot still isn't sitting right.
>Groaning, you place your head against the glass and sigh.
"It's been six months and I still can't find a decent tailor."
>Really?
>Had it been that long since you arrived in Equestria?
>Apparently so.
>Sure, it's been rough getting used to your new temporary(?) home, but you've been managing well enough.
>You even have a job and your own flat in Canterlot.
>It's not anything to write home about, but then again you can't write home in the first place.
>In any case, while you've been focused on making a living for yourself, apparently someone-
>pony
>else has been focused on you.
>And not in a way that makes you feel comfortable either.
>The Captain's warning words still ring in your ears.
>"Listen up Civvy; I know you're as thick as a brick wall so let me make this clear. Be outside the barracks at 1900, or I will put your boss' shop on the blacklist so fast, you'll be out on your keister before you can say 'we don't need military support'. Got it?"
>Oh, you got it alright.
>From her, and an earful from your boss.
>Ponies are rude.
>So in one last futile attempt to make yourself look decent, you trudge out of the apartment and make your way towards your 'agreed' upon location.

>The trip across town is thankfully brief.
>Ponies have a tendency to step out of the way of things bigger than them.
>Which pretty makes you a snowplow.
>Or pony plow.
>Heh, plow.
>Anyway, you arrive at the barracks in short order.
>An old structure situated within the town, barely separating the military and civilian worlds.
>You check your watch and.
"Ah, man, 7:02. The Captain's going to roast me for this."
>Right, the Captain, what she insisted on being called.
>Every time she comes into the shop, it's 'Captain this' and 'Captain wants that'.
>Irritating.
>So, with dread knotting itself in your stomach, you make your way to the front, pushing by a pony as you do.
"Sorry, 'scuse me."
>"What's the rush, Civvy?"
>Aw, what?
>Turning back, you frown a little as you take a second look at the pony.
>Gold coat?
>Orange and yellow mane?
>Cocky grin?
>Yup, that's the Captain alright.
>With a quiet hiss, you collect yourself and offer the best smile you can.
>It's impossibly forced.
"Well, hey there Captain, I was just coming to get you."
>"I figured."
>Her grin never falters.
>The mare's voice is calmer than usual, especially compared to the the encounter earlier in the day.
>It's almost nice.
>Almost.
>"Running a little behind schedule?"
"I, uh, got hung up."
>"Right, I understand. Well, let's get going."
>With a toss of her head, the pegasus mare begins trotting down the street.
>A thin sheen of sweat breaks out across your palms.
>What's she planning?
>What will her vengeance for the missing two minutes be?
>"Let's go, Civvy."
>Shaking yourself out of the daze, you hurry after the impatient voice of your date.

>As you catch up to her, you realize that the Captain's not in uniform.
>The stretchy spandex one, or her dress uniform.
>It's weird, seeing her walk around, well, naked.
>At least, as naked as a pony can be.
>You pace yourself alongside her, and it isn't too long before the mare cocks her head in your direction.
>"So, where are you taking me tonight?"
>It's true, the Captain had said that you would take her to a nice restaurant.
>But, truth be told, after the encounter in the shop today, you considered anything but.
>As a matter of fact, you finally decided on...
"The Old Mule."
>"The Old Mule?"
>Raising an eyebrow, the Captain snorts a little.
>"I've been to Canterlot a fair number of times, but I've never heard of that place."
>Fantastic.
>Now you might be able to get out of this date before anything happens.
"Oh yeah, it's just this little hole in the wall, family-owned. A little on the cramped side, but you don't mind, right, Captain?"
>Grinning, the mare bobs her head, much to your dismay.
>"Taking a girl out to a place with secret family recipes and cozy confines? Sounds like you're moving pretty fast there, Civvy."
>Drat.
>The mare leans up and winks at you.
>"And please, I'm off duty. Spitfire will be fine."
>Double drat!
"All right, Ssssssspitfire."
>This night might not end as quickly as you'd hoped.

>You arrive at the dive in short order.
>It's actually a pleasant surprise at the clip which Spitfire moves; far faster than most of the other ponies in Canterlot.
>A mare on a mission.
>But that's not important.
>It's really not.
>Because, truth be told, you've never actually eaten at The Old Mule.
>You've just heard horror stories about it from the customers who come in for their coffee.
>Thirty-seven classy ponies can't be wrong!
>The bell chimes as the two of you walk into the dimly lit restaurant, earning a grunt of greeting from the server.
>"Just a tick."
>She's a donkey, though you're not sure what you would have expected otherwise, pretty in a plain way, but nothing too exceptional.
>After a brief wait, she shows the two of you to a table.
>Small and cramped is right, you can barely fit your legs under the table!
>The Captain seems comfortable though, leaning forward and looking over the menu.
>"Hey, Civvy."
>She grunts, glancing up at you.
>"Have you, seen this menu?"
>No.
>Just say no.
>That's all you have to do.
"Of course I have!"
>Drat.
>Spitfire raises an eyebrow and turns it towards you.
>"So, what do you think of The Old Ass Special?"
>Gulp.
>Turning your attention down to the menu, you see that, unfortunately, The Old Ass Special is displayed across the front of the page.
>In bold, stylized letters no less.
>With a name like that, it's bound to be nightmarish.
"It, uh..."
>Offering Spitfire a small smile, you shrug.
"It's pretty good. You, should try it."
>Almost immediately, the Captain's hard gaze softens into a look of surprise.
>"Really? I was thinking the same thing. It seems like a really big deal here."
>Flagging down the server, Spitfire smiles.
>"We'll have two Specials."
>The server looks a little surprised, but nods her head and takes the menu away.
>Oh no.

>While you're stewing over your inevitable ruined meal, Spitfire turns her attention back to you.
>"Hey, Civvy?"
"What's up, Captain?"
>The mare rolls her eyes and smirks.
>"What did I just tell you- anyway, I appreciate you being willing to play ball with me on this."
"You didn't leave me much choice."
>"Not my fault you don't have the balls to turn me down."
>Spitfire smirks and gives you a gentle nudge with her hoof.
>"Or, could it be that this is what you've been waiting for all along?"
>No.
>Definitely not.
"In your dreams."
>The Captain laughs and shakes her head.
>"All right, maybe I got a little ahead of myself with that one."
>She sips at her water, falling silent for a moment, though she never takes her eyes off of yours.
>In a moment of awkwardness, you clear your throat.
"Uh, well, I'm glad that you could be here too. With me. Yes."
>"Don't be so stiff, Civvy. I'm not going to tear your head off."
"Well, that's a relief."
>There's a slight flinch on the mare's part as she looks away.
>"...I kind of like this place."
>Turning to you, she seems to fall back in her element.
>"I love the blue sky as much as the next peagasus, and no offense to the wide ceilings of Canterlot's finer establishments, but something about a small space feels-"
>Her voice trails off as she laughs and shrugs.
>"It reminds me of home, a little."
>You snort.
"A super star, big city mare like you? How could this remind you of home?"
>The Captain grins.
>"We aren't born Wonderbolts, Civvy; we have to grow into it. Little places like this bring back memories of the countryside with my family, back before I made the jump."
>Despite your original and still present intentions of making this the worst date ever, you find yourself leaning forward.
"Countryside? No way."
>"Mm, Scandaneighvian born."
>She chuckles, a sound like soft bells.
>"What about you, Civvy? Most ponies don't walk into a place like this without a recommendation or trying to regain something they've lost."

>Now it's your turn to smile.
"Are you saying I don't belong here?"
>"I'm saying it's weird."
>Spitfire doesn't miss a beat before continuing.
>"Like you."
>You make an attempt to lean back in your chair, but unfortunately there's simply not enough space.
>Settling for resting your elbows on the table, you shrug.
"Well I guess I can see that. Humans aren't exactly a common sight around here."
>"I've never seen one before you."
>You throw in a grunt of disapproval for effect before continuing.
"But, I guess I just felt like it."
>Good job, play it safe.
>Spitfire props her muzzle up on her hoof, looking you over for a long moment.
>"Hm, I can respect a stallion who does what he pleases. Well, as long as he stays out of trouble."
>The Captain raises her eyebrow, and you can even see the edge of her lip curling up into a smile as the words slip from her lips like sweet honey.
>"But, sometimes getting into a little trouble is fine; would you agree?"
>Uh... woah.
>Your finger has already hooked your collar by the time you put a stop to the unconscious movement.
>Trying to play it off by rubbing your neck, you offer a gentle laugh and shrug.
"I-I guess so."
>A distraction would be wonderful right about n-
>"Here we go, two Specials."
>Salvation!
>The donkey sets the plates in front of you, and your stomach drops to your gut.

>To say that the meal looks unappetizing would be an understatement.
>It's soup, you think, perhaps stew.
>The broth is thick enough that you could probably cut it with a knife.
>Underneath the dark surface, you can just make out some strange shapes.
>Is that supposed to be a carrot or a peapod?
>A mushroom breaks through the surface, unable to bob in the thick fluid.
>The bread doesn't look especially appetizing either, crusty and hard as a rock.
>It's a wonder they even manage to tear the loaf.
>There's also a side of something that looks like miniature brussel sprouts, dusted in a breading and... fried?
>Ugh.
>You shiver, but then have a brainstorm.
>A quick glance up to Spitfire confirms that she's not looking too pleased with the offering either.
>Maybe, just maybe, you can convince her to take the first bite and then amscray before-
>"Civvy?"
>You gulp, your eyes meeting hers.
>You see them sparkle with an almost teasing light as she smirks.
>"Aren't you going to eat?"
>Oh no.
>No, no, no.
>This isn't-
"Aren't you?"
>Tilting her head to the side, Spitfire smirks.
>"I would, but seeing as how you've been here before, I'm trusting you to take the lead."
>WHAT?
>Where's the bold, unflinching Captain?
>The one who drug you out on this date with your nails digging into the floorboards the whole way?
>Where's the mean, forward, aggressive Spitfire, and why has she been replaced with this sly, conniving, vicious black widow!?
>As if on cue, the mare bats her eyes twice at you.
>Your heart threatens to seize up at the unexpected action, and you struggle to hold back a gasp for air.
>"C'mon, please?"
>That sweet voice again.
>With a pained grunt, you pick up the spoon and dip it into the old tin mug.
>It clatters about, but even the ripples quickly disappear in the thick liquid.
>The spoon breaks the surface, Spitfire watching intently as you bring a load of broth and vegetables, and who knows what else to your lips.
>But pause before it reaches your mouth.

>The heat kisses your lips, the scent of salt tickling its way up your nose.
>Spitfire doesn't flinch, doesn't even blink as she watches you.
>So, this is how it ends, not in a horrific space-time accident or magic bleach, but brought low by an Old Ass Special.
>Goodbye, Earth.
>Goodbye, Equestria.
>Goodbye, Spit-
>No. Not her.
>She can go without.
>But, with a deep breath, you open your mouth and shove the spoon in.
>Stew.
>It's definitely stew.
>But the carrots and beans are surprisingly crisp.
>The mushrooms not so much, as they all but gush more of the broth into your mouth.
>Savory, with a hint of spice.
>It's... it's actually pretty good.
>You gulp, coughing a little as you look across at Spitfire.
"Uh... like that, see?"
>The mare nods and, after her first hesitant bite, you see her eyes light up and the two of you dig in with earnest.
>Let it never be said that a military mare is not able to enjoy a good meal, as she devoured all of hers, and then stole a good chunk of your fried okra as well.
>But that's all right, as the server comes by to refresh your plates regularly.
>Throughout the night, you come to find out that the name comes from the server's grandmother, who makes it fresh every day.
>After about two or three rounds of various vegetables, breads, and fruits, you and Spitfire finally call it quits.
>She excuses herself while you settle up the bill, and the two of you begin the, much slower, walk back to the barracks.
>After several minutes of silence, Spitfire turns and smirks at you.
>"You're pretty impressive, Civvy."
"How do you figure?"
>"A mare like me asks a stallion out, and expects to get wined and dined until her date can't wring a cent more out. But you take me to some little hole in the wall and treat it like it's the best thing ever."
>You flinch a little.
"Well, I wouldn't say it's like th-"
>"It's exactly like that."
>Spitfire laughs and flaps her wings a few times as she lifts herself up towards your face.

>Pressing a hoof against your cheek, she grins.
"You haven't stopped smiling since we got our meal."
>The corner of your mouth twitches a little at that, and you hurriedly try to frown.
>Still chuckling, the Captain settles back down beside you again.
>"I didn't say it was a bad thing, just unexpected. I'm glad we got to have a good time together."
>Ah, drat.
>She's right.
>You went in with a barely conceived plan on how to ruin the night, and it ends up that you enjoyed yourself.
>How can you admit that you wanted to torpedo the date, even to yourself at this point?
>Well, when in doubt, redirect.
"Why me?"
>Spitfire's ears go up straight as her eyes widen.
>"What what?"
"Me. Why'd you try and pick me up for two months?"
>The normally composed Captain chuckles, finally looking away and trotting ahead a little.
>"Well, brr, it's gotten a little bit colder, don't you think? Be bad to stay out for too long. Chop-Chop, Civvy."
>Wait, what?
>No!
>That's not fair!
>You hustle up after her, frowning.
"Now hold on, what about my question?"
>"You seemed sweet, if a little dense. I thought it might be nice."
>So cold...
>And such a weak response.
"Nice to date outside your species? C'mon now."
>There's a noncommittal grunt from the flier as she slows her trot back to half pace.
>You stay alongside her and watch as she stares at the ground.
>"Well, it sounds stupid, but I've seen how you zip around the coffee shop."
"Yeah, and?"
>Spitfire finally meets your eyes again and gives you a deadpan look.
>"You're slow."
>And flinch...
>"But, it's not the speed, but the way that you move."
>The Captain smiles again.
>"Moving, always moving. It's like you never get tired; like you could go on forever."
>The two of you stare at one another for a long while before...
"That's what you look for? An Energizer bunny?"
>Her muzzle scrunches in an instant
>"What? No! What's an Energizer anyway?"
"Well, it's-"
>Raising a hoof, Spitfire shakes her head and sighs.

>"No, you know what? This is par for the course, I should have learned already that you're not the brightest stallion around, so I need to be direct. As embarrassing as it is."
>This mare keeps slinging insults at you...
>But you wait for her to collect herself.
>And wait...
>And she seems absolutely intent on not letting you in on the secret.
"So?"
>Spitfire mutters something under her breath.
"Didn't catch that."
>You lean closer and she says something again.
>It doesn't make any sense though.
"Ham inna? Ham inna what?"
>"Stamina, you dolt."
>Spitfire glares at you out of the corner of her eye.
>"All you do is run orders and lift product and labor all day, and you never seem to get tired."
>Furrowing your brow, you frown.
"What's that got to do with anything?"
>Spitfire grumbles to herself a few times before fixing you with a half-grin.
>"I guess, I was just wondering if it was as true in the bed."
>Oh.
>Wait.
>What?
"What?"
>Flapping her wings again, Spitfire draws even with your face and frowns.
>"I'm tired of sprints and I want a marathon. Can you 'run' a marathon?"
>...
>Oh.
"So, this whole ordeal...?"
>"Was a ploy to get you liquored up and into bed with me so I could see for myself, yes."
>Ah.
>Awkward.

>Well, it's not like you haven't thought about doing the monster mash with ponies.
>It's just really kind of weird to think that any of them would want you.
>...Kinda nice too.
>Okay, that settles it.
>You're getting some sweet pony poon tonight!
>Putting on your sauvest grin, you lean towards her.
"Well, the night is still young, and if you're up-"
>"Not interested."
>Spitfire holds up a hoof and shakes her head.
>What?
"What? But you just..."
>"That was my original plan."
>The Captain gives a weak smile.
>"But, I also intended to kind of, ditch you afterwards. I don't think I can do that any more. Sorry, Civvy."
>Ah.
>Okay.
>You really screwed up this one.
"I think I get it."
>"Good, because we're at the barracks and I don't have time to explain it to you in detail."
>Sure enough, sometime in your exchange, you made it back to where the night began.
>You stare at the old building and sigh, glancing down to Spitfire.
"Well, thanks for tonight, I guess."
>"Mm, no thank you."
>Silence.
>...That's that then.
>Forcing a smile, you take a step back when Spitfire fixes you with a look.
>It's warm, with just a hint of warning lurking behind it.
>"Civvy?"
"Yeah?"
>"The day after tomorrow, right here, 1900; sharp this time, got it?"
>She smiles and trots towards the door, leaving you stunned on the street.
>As she turns to enter, she looks to you one last time.
>"In case you're still wondering?"
>Spitfire cups a hoof to her mouth and shouts.
>"THAT'S A DATE, OKAY? DON'T FORGET THE DRINK THIS TIME!"
>Your face goes hot as she laughs and ducks inside.
>The prying eyes of every pony on the block make you turn tail and run back home as quickly as you can manage.
>Once inside you collapse against the door.
>Your heart is pounding in your ears.
>But you can't be sure if it's because of the dead sprint
>the sheer embarrassment
>Or the sly smile of that blasted mare.
>Maybe you'll find out in two days.