Chapter Four

The next day, you step into the changing rooms of the Cloudsdale City Stadium, grinning as you decide to use a fake limp. Realising the locker room was completely abandoned for the moment, you give up on the fake limp and instead take a glance at the roster on the wall, wondering which of the dozen or so members were due to be in today. You notice that the display teams had been changed dramatically this rotation, and see your own name crossed out. Sighing, you raise a hoof to rub out the black marker pen.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” somepony says, behind you. You turn to see Spitfire, a towel wrapped around her neck, wet hair around her face. She smiles, glancing back towards the still running showers before hugging you briefly.

“Hey. I’m better. Got a full, clean bill of health. I’m good to fly.” you reply, stretching your wings out, displaying them for her. Spitfire looks at them critically, and then dives on you, tackling you to the ground, laughing.

“I thought we’d lost you, old man.”

“Hey, come on, Kid, I’m like a bad bit, I always turn up.” you reply, pushing the golden pegasus off of you and climbing back to your hooves.

“The nurses at the hospital wouldn’t let us anywhere near you, did you see their boss? I’ve met dragons nicer than her!”

“Yeah...” you trail of a little, “Is Doc around? Or has he finally let you and Soarin’ take over? I kinda need to talk to him.”

“He’s doing the new guy’s physical, I’m sure he’ll be done so-”

“New guy? You’re replacing me already?”

“Relax, Thunder. You remember the guy from the royal guard that we trialed a couple of years ago? The one who declined the invite because it’d take him away from Princess Luna?”

“Plate... something?”

“Plate Mail, that’s the guy. Anyway, he took some sort of dishonorable discharge over a training exercise about two to three months back, and he’s had nothing since, apart from some crappy jobs working protection at concerts.”

“...and you think he’s cute.”

Spitfire blushes, her usually yellow cheeks now holding a deep red.

“What happened? Given up on turning the masseur? After all this time, and all those bits you spent?”

“You... you didn’t tell anypony, did you?”

“No, your secret is safe with me, kid.”

“I still want him, but, well, he has other clients. How do I know he doesn’t do the same thing for them?”

You sigh, and put your hooves on her shoulders,

“Does he call out a name when he gets there?”

“...yeah, mine.” she replies, meekly and completely out of her normal confident character.

“That’s all the answer you need, sweetheart. Just ask him if he wants to go for a drink sometime, I’m sure it’ll work out.”

Your response makes the mare perk up slightly, and you bump your friend playfully on the shoulder, causing her to smile.

“Did I tell you that I’ve met someone?”

Spitfire gasps, covering her mouth,

“No way! Is she a fan? Wait, no, you’d never lower yourself to dating one of our fans... would you?”

“Ha, no, I finally managed to find a mare who likes me for me, rather than the celebrity status, and I’m going to see her tonight.”

“So, how many times did you have to ask this one?” Soarin asks, “Caramel said that he’s seen you around Ponyville over the last week, watching that Rainbow Dash. Did you have to tell her who you are?”

“Rainbow... wait, HER?! The one who has been at every single one of our shows?” Spitfire laughs, “I thought you said this mare wasn’t a fan? Also, aren’t you old enough to be her grandad?”

You curse under your breath, having forgotten that Soarin’s coltfriend was from the same town as Redheart, and remembering that he’d seen you out of your uniform at the last summer-sun celebration in Canterlot - so of course the stallion would have recognised you.

“No, no, her name’s Redheart, she’s a nurse. She looked after me when I was recovering,” you reply, waving off the idea of you being interested in the lithe younger pegasus.

“Oh, so what about Dash?” Spitfire asks, teasing you.

“She’s a damn good flier, I was wondering why we never tried her out.”

“I don’t think she ever actually applied, I’m not sure why. This is the same Rainbow Dash that pulled off the ‘boom at that young fliers’ thing, right?” Doc responds, having appeared through the same door you had used.

“That’s her alright,” Soarin replies, scrubbing at his damp mane with a towel produced from his locker, “Aanyway, I want to know when we’re going to meet this nurse of yours?”

“I don’t know, we’ve got our first proper date tonight, but I want to take things slow. Doc, can I have a word?”

“Certainly, come to my office,” the old, white haired stallion says, beckoning you to follow him.

Doc’s ‘office’ was actually the highest point of a strato-cumulus cloud that also served as his home. It wasn’t as homely as most parts of the cloud city, but Doc had always been the outdoors type, and it was reflected in his lifestyle. He was one of the few pegasi with a talent in medicine, which had earned him his title, but his true passion was flying. He had explained to you countless times how your own wings work, and the innate magic of pegasi that gives them their ability to walk on and manipulate cloud.

The two of you had met almost thirty years ago now, in the very same locker room you had just been in, with the group at the time led by Fire Fly, a mare of renowned skill in the air. Spitfire’s father, Vickers, had also been there - a jolly stallion known back in the day for his flight cap and goggles... as well as his delicately maintained curled mustache that he had grown during his time in Her Majesty’s Royal Air Force.

As the two of you touch down on the cloud, Doc buries his head in the fluffy ground for a moment, before pulling out a bottle of whiskey and a pair of cigars. You trot six paces to the north, and then dig out an old-fashioned desk top lighter, causing the stallion behind you to laugh. As the two of you light the cigars, Doc sighs.

“So, we’re having that talk today? The one I never thought we’d have to have?”

“Yep. I’m too old for this, Doc. Flying’s a young horse’s game and we both know that. Just look at some of the rookies we’ve got - hell, Spitfire’s a better flier than her father ever was, even Washburne is mastering the harder techniques.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw her pull a crazy Ivan, Doc. Never seen that done by somepony without a dragon trying to chew on their plot - she was like a leaf, on the wind. Y’know, we haven’t had a member ‘boom since... well, since we lost Maverick, and then some kid from the middle of nowhere does it. I feel out of-”

“Out of date? How many of those kids have out-flown a dragon, with a whole mess of gryphons all of the place, and survived?”

You look at your hooves, still thoughtfully chewing the cigar, occasionally blowing the smoke out through your nose. Over the years, of course the Wonderbolts had lost ponies, good, honest ponies.

“I don’t want to be the next accident. I got really close to the edge there, it was surreal, Doc. I want out. I want to settle down, heck, maybe this thing with Redheart will work out...”

“Whoa, whoa, Thunder, it’s ONE date. She could end up being a total wing-clipper. Just fly with the team one last time, I’ll see who I can convince to come along, get the old family back together. Did Spitfire tell you that Vickers has had an improvement?”

“What happened?”

“Some Doctor, down in that ‘middle of nowhere’ town you mentioned, put him on the strongest four-leaf clover he could find. Vick’s got his mind back, he’s eating again, and I’m sure the old boy would love to see his ex wing-pony fly one last time.”

“One last time. Then I’m settling down.”

You shake hooves with Doc, before he grasps you in an almost brotherly hug, causing you to realise that he, like your other team mates, had been just as worried about your fall. Finishing your drink and cigar, the two of you glide back down to the stadium. You walk past Spitfire whilst she is talking to Surprise, one of the younger members, and she sniffs at the air before sighing and giving you a meaningful look.

“Hey, I’m following the rules. I’m allowed one for every time I cheat death.” you reply, knowing what she was upset about, “Anyway, Doc and I have cleared everything up. I’m going to do one last show with you guys, then retire, before I do any permanent damage.”

“Then we’d better make sure it’s one hell of a show.” Spitfire says, grinning widely,

“Ooh, and a party?” Surprise tags on the end, bouncing slightly at the idea. Spitfire nods, triggering a squee of excitement from the bouncing white pegasus, who dashes off to begin organising a party of epic proportions, the likes of which very few have ever seen.

Looking at the clock whilst sat in the locker room once more, you see that it’s now just coming up to half past four, and so you say your goodbyes, promising to drop by again soon to discuss your final show further.

Next Chapter: Chapter 5 Estimated time remaining: 13 Minutes