"Ouch...that looks like it really hurt, but it also looks really good on you!"

Soarin could now add 'navel-gazing' to his repertoire of shameless acts committed in broad daylight. It'd go nicely with 'sending food bits flying when eating' and 'talking loudly when in high spirits'. The fly boy stallion's emerald eyes scanned over his fiery commander's underbelly as she hovered upright, showing off her new-found fashion statement.

Centered on her belly was an autumn orange tattoo depicting a flickering flame, fresh from the parlor she had just left. The flame consisted of two separate branches, each of which grew upwards from the sides of her navel, forming a simple but stylish design.

"The coat reduction worked great!" Soarin said with a smile. "I can see your belly button now, but it doesn't look like your coat is any shorter. The color totally matches your mane and cutie mark, too! Those parlor ponies sure know how to make things look authentic!"

Soarin continued to praise his superior, his neck craned forward, observing the tattoo with the interest of a colt in a candy store.

"You're as subtle as a manticore, you know that?" Spitfire said with a chuckle, gently pushing the stallion's snout away as she stopped her wingbeats and landed on the warm cobblestone street. Soarin, completely unperturbed, stood up straight and turned his gaze towards the busy Canterlot street.

"You wanna go show Fleetfoot, now?" He asked curiously. "I bet she'll love it!"

"Well, she did pay for it, I'd sure hope she likes it." Spitfire said, beginning to walk alongside the blue stallion. "But you know, I think I'd like to grab a bite, first. Refrained from eating all day, since my stomach was going to be assaulted this afternoon."

"But you do like it, right?" Soarin asked.

"Loved the design then, love it now." Spitfire said plainly. "Though I still think Fleets is a bit of a sadist for buying me a traditionally-done tattoo in advance, then springing the news on my birthday. You can tell she lives for these kinds of things."

Soarin chuckled as he walked.

"But you know, she always gets away with it, cuz' you can never say no!"

"Ain't that the truth..." Spitfire said, smilingly meekly.

Together, the two off-duty Wonderbolts made their way down an uncrowded street and towards one of Canterlot's food stands. Though most of Canterlot was fancy and focused on the highest tier of societal standards, it still had its share of average restaurants and fast food if you knew where to look. The two pegasi ponies got in line for the lunch rush at a Bolting Burgers stand.

"What'cha wanna get?" Soarin asked.

"I dunno. Just a hayburger and fries, I guess." Spitfire replied nonchalantly. "Anything to tide me over until tonight."

"Well whatever it is, I've got you covered!" Soarin stated. "It's your birthday, and, as a gentlepony, your co-worker and friend, I won't let you spend any bits today!"

Spitfire smiled and shrugged her shoulders in resignation.

"If you say so. Just don't spend too much on me today. You always get super depressed when you find yourself broke before your next paycheck, and can't splurge on food whenever you want a snack. I wouldn't want to get between you and your one true love, Soarin~" Spitfire teased, making her companion blush in embarrassment.

"Hah, yeah! Wait a second...hey come on I don't eat that much!" Soarin protested, sticking his chest out to show off his athletic figure.

"C'mon Soarin, everypony knows you're just a fat colt on the inside~" Spitfire retaliated, prodding him with her wing. "Misty Fly said you got drunk with Fire Streak last week and ate yourselves out of house and home. You went to the overnight market at 3 AM just to find more food to inhale before you two finally passed out."

The stallion turned a light shade of red, lowering his ears in embarrassment.

"Well...I had the munchies!" The stallion defended. "That's what happens when you have too much cider!"

One by one, ponies approached the food cart and traded their bits for a hot meal. When their turn came, Soarin took charge of ordering their food, sending Spitfire to scout out a descent table. For an early afternoon it was surprisingly quiet, but then again, this place wasn't made for lengthy meals. There were a few chairs and tables to the side of the cart, but most ponies picked up their food and went on their way.

With a moment to herself, Spitfire slumped into a cheap plastic chair and let out a tired sigh. Her belly still gave unpredictable twinges of pain during muscle stretches, something the parlor artist had of course warned her about. While it wasn't her first tattoo, it was on a softer, more vulnerable body part than the short-lived one or two she had gotten during high school.

Flying home was going to be interesting. So was the aerodynamics relay practice in less than forty-eight hours.

But she'd cope. After all, if she couldn't, she had a certain white-haired pony to blame that she could bother for weeks in sweet vengeance.

"Great news!" Soarin exclaimed, fluttering over with not two, but three bags of food. Spitfire could barely see the stallion's excited face behind the wall of paper bags in his hooves. "You'll never guess who works at the Bolting Burgers stand, now!"

Spitfire rolled her eyes in bemusement.

"Whoever they are, they must like their athletic stallions." Spitfire shot back. "Though I can't say they're helping that cause very much from the looks of things."

"Fire Streak's cousin, Ember Roast!" Soarin continued, too caught up in his own excitement to argue with Spitfire's sarcastic banter. "She recognized me, and thinks I'm cute! She even gave me two extra hayburgers, on the house! Er, stand, I guess."

Gingerly placing his treasured food on the table, the blue pegasus took up nest on his chair and began sorting the wrapped packages from the various bags.

"What do I always tell ya'? You're fit, famous and best of all, you've a sweet, boyish personality. Kind of a...'happy-go-lucky' mixed with 'sweet naivete'." Spitfire analyzed, laying her forehooves on the table and resting her chin upon them. "Mares eat that stuff up."

"Mhereu go," Soarin said, his mouth full of hay, bun and lettuce. "Mours is drah one widnough pickles."

Spitfire sighed and shook her head helplessly.

"You just need to clean up your table manners a bit, and you could be a real mare-killer."

The next few minutes passed with little chit-chat, as Soarin devoured burger after burger, and Spitfire daintily chewed her way through hers. As they ate in silence, Spitfire found her thoughts shifting. The longer she sat eating, the more these thoughts swirled about. Spitfire felt weighted, put on the spot; the universe waiting for her to start another conversation, to bring up anything at all, to end this silence. It wasn't just the itch and sting of her new tattoo that was gnawing at her mind, anymore.

"So, what's new with you lately?" Spitfire asked, breaking the uncomfortable lull in conversation.

"Moh, smameol'." Soarin shrugged, swallowing what was left of his third burger. "Ever since the Equestria Games I've been taking it easy for a while, ya know? Outside practices I've been hanging out with Fire Streak a lot. We have a lot in common! We both love to chill at home on rainy days and just enjoy being inside, so I've been going over to his place whenever the weather isn't great. Last week we had a zompony movie marathon that lasted all night! His girlfriend got so scared she cleared the back of the couch! And then there was the time we..."

The Equestria Games. Spitfire thought, her rabid thoughts drowning out Soarin completely. The games were what this was all about.

Spitfire knew she had hardly spent much time with the majority of her friends and teammates since the initial practices for the games. Between practices for the games, weekly meetups for all primary Wonderbolt athletes and her work at the Wonderbolts Academy, she had been stuck in a whirlwind of work and competition for the last several months. Easy days spent with her friends and family became a luxury she never had time for.

Or at least that's the excuse she'd told herself.

"That's great!" Spitfire blindly interjected with a smile. "Fire Streak always was a lot like you, even down to his mane."

"Hahah!" Soarin blurted, food particles flying from his mouth. "That's true! Though I guess we've all got a pretty similar style goin' on, huh?"

Spitfire smiled again, this time a little more brightly. Of all the ponies she'd ever worked with, from academy recruits to her own teammates, Soarin had always been one of the most genuine ponies she'd ever met. Few things bothered him, and what did bother him, he got over quickly with a carefree attitude. Fire Streak wasn't the only pony thankful to know him as a friend and teammate.

By comparison, Spitfire herself had far fewer things to praise that weren't work-related, and certainly nothing lately.

In fact, the last time she had a chance to spend any kind of quality time with her teammates was back before the games, and that was never even planned. It took an angry Rainbow Dash scolding her at point blank for her to realize where she had been placing her priorities. With a little quick thinking and a half-assed apology, she had avoided much of a scene by passing it off as a minor error in judgement, but the guilt still plagued her.

Spitfire's usually confident orange eyes grew sullen. If Soarin weren't the mature and forgiving pony he was, she might not be sitting here right now after a stunt like that, enjoying a day that had otherwise been great. Not after the way she had acted. Her luck in friends was staggering, but lately, she hadn't spared any time to appreciate that at all.

And to make it worse, this wasn't even the first time.

"Soarin, I need to tell you something."

Soarin's ears perked up as he finished chewing through another box of horseshoe fries.

"What's up?"

Spitfire could already feel her ears flattening from anticipation. She put her forehooves on the tabletop and lowered her head to avoid projection as much as possible. By this point, Soarin began to see what kind of conversation this was turning into, and put down his food, his content smile fading into a more serious look.

"Do you remember last autumn, when we did that sponsor race against the visiting team from the Griffon Kingdom?"

"Yeah?"

"Lightning Streak was really looking forward to it." Spitfire recalled. "I assigned him a position in advance, and he worked hard at practices for weeks. But when the event grew closer, and I got a better look at just how big of an event it was going to be, I ended up choosing Rapidfire to be the final member of our representative team instead. Lightning Streak was new to the team, and I had more confidence in Rapidfire's flying."

Spitfire's gaze remained fixated on the discarded food bags in front of them. Soarin made no move to respond. She couldn't see where he was looking or what expression he held, but she knew he was listening, and it was a spotlight that made her stomach quiver.

"The worst part is, I never talked with him about it," Spitfire continued, beginning to lose her usual composed self, "to this day I have never apologized or given him any reasoning for why I changed my mind at the last second. I guess I felt I didn't have to. I guess I felt justified, since I was doing what I thought would assure our victory. He didn't talk to me for a week after the event, and I treated it like it was nothing..."

"...why are you telling me this?" Soarin asked, voice low and quiet, treading softly now that his normally cool and collected captain was only a few bad memories away from tears.

"Because Fleetfoot and I practically did the same thing to you." Spitfire said with a shake in her voice. "Worse, I let her. She's even more driven by competition than I am, and despite knowing that, I agreed with and capitalized on her ideas regarding your wing injury at Rainbow Falls."

Soarin's will to talk seemed to die down again, and for a moment so did Spitfire's.

"You know, it's actually kind of comical," Spitfire continued with a half-hearted chuckle, "both times she's worked with me, Rainbow Dash has called me out on poor decisions I've made. Both times, she was absolutely right. She saw right through me, and both times I caved in with a temporary solution, without really learning what I should have."

The five-year Captain of the Wonderbolts grated her hoof along the table-top in frustration.

"What does that make me? What sort of leader can show pride and confidence, and expect the same from their comrades, when they'll disregard those comrades' feelings, abilities and even their friendships just for the sake of coming out on top?"

Having said her piece, Spitfire exhaled slowly, and for the first time since her speech began, looked her long-time friend in the face. Soarin's expression was a mixture of somber and sympathetic.

"I'm sorry Soarin, for everything," Spitfire admitted, "I didn't mean to dump this on you today. I'm psyched that you wanted to spend your day off with me, but...I needed to get that out. I guess it’s just been on my mind for a little too long."

"Spitfire, you know, you don't have to be so hard on yourself." Soarin said calmly. Spitfire looked up with teary eyes, not used to hearing Soarin talk so seriously.

"If you're talking to me now, and you've put so much thought into this since the tryouts, when you didn't even talk to Lightning Streak...I think Rainbow Dash did teach you something. Maybe it just had to be a little more personal for you. You didn't know Lightning Streak at all back during that race, and I'm assuming the first time you worked with Rainbow Dash was at the academy, right? When you removed that Lightning Sand—"

"Dust."

"—Dust pony from the cadets program? You didn't really know her either so, it couldn't have been easy judging her character. On the other hoof, we've been friends since we were foals. To risk losing a friend you've had for that long…I know I’d be shaken too.”

Whether it was an effort to lighten the mood, or a genuine expression of his feelings, Spitfire could only watch as Soarin gave her one of his winning smiles. Not one for the cameras, nor one to trick mares into giving him extra helpings of food, but a personal one that he saved for only the most special of moments.

"So, don't be too hard on yourself." He said again. "Everypony learns from their mistakes, even Wonderbolts."

"Yeah. You'd just have thought the Captain of the Wonderbolts would have learned something like this a long time ago." Spitfire said with a meek smile. "You know, maybe some time before they were made captain."

"Hey, sometimes you gotta re-learn an important lesson from time to time, ya know?" Soarin said encouragingly.

"Look, you know me, I'm not mad at you, or Fleetfoot." He continued. "To be honest, I was good when you asked me back on the team...heh, right after Rainbow Dash tore into you two for me."

Spitfire stood up and stretched her legs. Her wings flowing out and open, she took to the air, with Soarin shadowing after her. Once several meters above the ground, Spitfire tilted her head back and closed her eyes, letting the sunshine bathe her face. As soothing as any hot shower, her frustrations melted away, and she was left feeling more calm and tranquil.

"Thanks, Soarin." she said softly. "I guess I can't argue with that. I'm afraid this is only the first step to making amends, though."

"The first step?" Soarin repeated with a quizzical expression.

"If I'm going to come clean and set things right, I'm going to be efficient about it." Spitfire declared matter-of-factly. "First, before anything else, we're giving Lightning Streak a visit."

"Hah, sure thing. Maybe he'd like to come hang out with us today. I haven't seen much of him since he went on vacation."

"Second, whether tonight or sometime before our next practice, I need to have a chat with Fleetfoot. She's a great teammate and a hard worker, but I want all of us to be on the same page from now on, regarding how we all treat our teammates. Support and encouragement of our comrades needs to come before assurance of victory, always."

Soarin's smile grew with every new plan his captain was making.

"Yeah, alright!"

"And third: How about we take a stroll down City Square, and maybe give Manehatten a fly-to, tonight. The only thing itching me more than this tattoo is my need to show it off to all those poor tabloid ponies who haven't had much to sink their claws into lately."

Spitfire struck a seductive mid-air pose, properly showing off her decorated underbelly to the open world. Soarin snorted in laughter.

"Haha, buck yeah! I can see it now! 'Wonderbolt Captain gets Sensual Second Cutie Mark! Is Wonderbolt Mating Season Afoot?'"

"Heh, wow. That's pretty good, actually." Spitfire said with a chuckle, flying upright and gaining altitude. "You sure you aren't secretly a tabloid pony?"

"If I am, I've got one heck of a story for my readers!" Soarin said with a raspberry.

The fiery Wonderbolt grinned back, circling about and crossing her upper hooves.

"Tch, I'd catch you long before you get to your printing press, fly boy, and you know it!"

Soarin's upbeat smile turned into a playful smirk. He snorted and scuffed his hoof through the air as if he were still grounded.

"Oh is that so, Captain Spitfire~? Well I say I can beat you to Lightning Streak's place easily, if I just-seeya!"

Not a moment later, the sky blue pegasus pony shot into the distance, dispersing clouds in his wake. With cheetah-like reflexes Spitfire swiftly trailed after him. The deafening double sonic boom was audible all the way to Yanhoover.

You're toast when I catch up! Spitfire pledged, more content in herself than she had been in quite some time.

Author's Notes:

I'd like to take this opportunity to explain a few things, as I'm sure some of you picked up on:

* I believe tattoos are treated as a tradition, much like Winter Wrap Up. Tattoos can likely be done through magic, but I imagine there's a primitive way of doing them that mimics the way we humans create tattoos, that ponies can request for from parlors that cater to using the old traditional method of applying tattoos. Bragging rights, losing a bet, a higher sense of permanence, etc.

* Yes, horses do in fact have belly buttons, as they are mammals just like humans. Sure they don't look like human navels, but anything can happen in Talking Horse Land. And on that note, a bit more headcanon; ponies can have their coat trimmed short to reveal their navel for fashion purposes, or to display a designed tattoo properly. In this case, both!

* And, simply because it's adorable and relevant to the ending (or at least how I'd picture it)...

...which is (C) to tsitra360~

Long-live SoarinFire friendshipping.
Which I'm sure some of you will interpret as SoarinFire Express Shipping, and that's okay, too.

* Lastly, huge thanks to my good irl friend Belgerum for acting as my editor.
Thank you for reading! As always, your feedback is appreciated!