The morning went by in a blur thanks to your unparalleled motivation. With your leftover rush you managed to make breakfast and clean the entire apartment in a little over an hour.

The last thing remaining was the bed sheets. A few down feathers go airborne as you whip the linens off the mattress. Static forces several of the blue fuzzies to stick to your hands and the back of your wrists, and you pick them off one by one with dexterous fingers. You try to toss them on the floor but they curve back and stick to your hands again. You proceed to spend an unreasonable amount of time clearing yourself of your partner’s down while pointlessly muttering curses at Coulomb. Of course you weren’t really upset, just annoyed. There’s no way you could be upset after last night. There’s no way you could be upset, period. You do your best to not let your mind wander, but you only succeed in forgetting what you’re supposed to be doing. The pile of linens on the floor next to you still carried her powerful scent and with it, vivid memories of ecstasy. It’s still a bit surreal to think about…you are in a relationship now, with a talking rainbow pony…that can fly. The more you think about it the more ridiculous it sounds. You bunch up the pile of sheets and carry them to the wash machine—generously supplied by your landlady at no additional cost.

What would your father say? You pause a moment and struggle to match a face to a figure. The image of your father was a faint one, the accompanying emotions even fainter.

Who cares? All that mattered was that you made her happy, and in turn, that made you happy. This is your life now. This weird land of voodoo. This small apartment. Your friends. Your mare.

You hadn’t really discussed your relationship with Dash yet but you doubted this was temporary. That thought alone filled you with excitement. How many more nights will you spend like that? How much more will you get to learn about her? A big stupid grin splits your face and you were sure that if your washer could see you, it would be really creeped out right about now.

The both of you still had a lot to figure out, but you’ve been the closest of friends for so long you can’t imagine ever wanting to leave her. Sure she may be rash sometimes…and messy…and a bit egotistical, but you love those things about her. Even when she does get on your nerves.

How much thought has she put into this? Your hand hovers over the wash cycles while you meditate on your multicolored companion. She definitely takes her time opening up to others and, judging by her choice in books and conversation, you knew nothing made her more uncomfortable than a good romance. The trust she had in you wasn't built overnight, so this decision had been a long time coming.

You turn the dial to warm wash and hit start. You can’t wait until she gets back so you can hug her and ruffle her hair and...

Geez. Take it easy.

You’re not obsessing over her, you did get tickets to her Wonderbolts show this afternoon, but that doesn’t make you obsessive…right? Dash didn’t know you planned on going to her Canterlot performance. As far as she knew you were spending the weekend getting ready for your job on Monday. Luckily for you, you’d recently gotten a letter informing you that the job start date got postponed until Tuesday. You figured you’d surprise her with a visit. You hoped it wouldn’t look too clingy, but with how she was acting this morning you doubt she’d mind. Besides, you’d never actually been to one of her official air shows.

It wasn’t supposed to start until three in the afternoon, but you didn’t pre-order any train tickets so the earlier you leave the safer. Thirty minutes later you were showered, shaved, dressed and ready to go.

The ride to Canterlot was uneventful. The same double takes from ponies, the same short ceiling and awkward seats. Despite its pains, the steam powered machine of steel and coal provided a measure of comfort. It wasn’t driven by magic, just good old reliable physics. You almost felt a connection to it in a way you never could with the magically drawn buggies and flying chariots. Despite its merits you never trusted magic, it was too complex and intangible, and worst of all you still didn’t understand how it worked. The train on the other hand, was something you understood in detail, and you found it fairly easy to doze off to its rhythmic bumping and clacking. When you finally arrived in the mountaintop city a few hours later you almost regret leaving it for the foreign unknown.

You hop the steps out of the passenger car and make your way into the bustling city like a kid at the first day of school. The cobblestone street beneath your feet reminds you of asphalt as you take in the striking scenery. It wasn’t so striking in the sense that it was awe-inspiring; it was striking because it was so familiar. Buildings stood several stories high and were made of stone or brick, roads crossed at ninety-degree angles and there even seemed to be a standardized traffic sign system for buggies. It was much more modern than the backstreets of Ponyville you were used to. You catch yourself gawking and snap out of it, you’d have plenty of time to check it out when you started your job.

Ponies traveled every which way but a good many were all headed the same direction. You join them and pass a few Wonderbolts event banners along the way. The group of ponies grew larger and louder as it carried you down the streets and past the entry booths to the stadium. You pay for a front row seat at the gate and make your way inside. The size of the whole thing surprises you, it's a lot bigger than a football stadium and much higher as well to allow for better visibility. You stare in awe at the myriad of cloud columns and other obstacles that hovered in place above the field—obeying some invisible command to stay put despite the cool breeze. A rainbow colored waterfall pours from a cloud off to the side and you follow the colors until they hit the ground. You suddenly realize there is a ground and it’s marked not unlike a soccer field would be. This stadium probably hosts a hundred different events. You take a moment to ponder whether or not they could flood it like the Roman coliseum and conduct miniature sea battles…nah, too violent for them…it’d be awesome if they did do it though.

You spot a group of griffins a ways off. Maybe they serve meat here!

Thirty minutes later you were disappointed but not empty handed. If they did serve meat anywhere it was on the opposite side of the stadium, but you had yet to sample the glorious smell of hot dogs so you doubted they had any at all. However, you did find a vendor that sold giant soft pretzels with butter and salt on them and that was the next best thing. You take a bite out of the hot pretzel and savor its buttery goodness. You could live off these if you had to.

You still have about thirty minutes before the show kicks off and it was beginning to get packed with excited pastel ponies. And you thought it was crowded heading in when you did. You notice quite a few minotaurs and griffins milling about as well, that’s probably why you weren’t getting as many strange looks as you got elsewhere. The new anonymity spurs you on to explore around a bit. You find your way into a merchandise shop and immediately notice a dozen giddy fillies and colts dragging their parents around with wild eyes and excited grins. You smile warmly at them as you begin to walk the isles. They’ve even got junior sized Wonderbolts outfits.

A giggling filly weaves through your legs and her mother darts after her giving you a tired, apologetic look. That’s what you get for hanging out in the kids' section. The other side of the store is definitely catered more toward the adult enthusiast. Puzzles, coffee mugs, lanyards…immediately your mare’s striking colors jump out at you, and you find yourself looking at a life-sized 'Rainbow Dash the Wonderbolt' poster. Despite it being a mere picture, you can’t help but feel your heart skip a bit at her striking beauty and confident grin. You slow your pretzel chewing as you look out to either side. Her and the rest of the active members of the team take up the whole wall. It suddenly hits you that Dash is actually a celebrity of sorts. You never realized just how popular she was until now.

You swallow the lump in your throat and get a bit closer. The backdrop is the same as all the others, but the detail is incredible. Your eyes study her magenta ink ones and you follow every line—testing the photo’s accuracy. Not to brag, but you were probably more qualified to judge its authenticity than anyone else. Her fur lacked the definition it had in real life, especially around the mouth and eyes, and her mane looked suspiciously smooth. She probably had to get all pampered up before they let her take pictures. You’ll have to tease her about it later. Apart from the few nitpicking details it was definitely Rainbow Dash—right down to that confident smirk she’d mastered. That’s gotta be the most kissable face you’ve seen on—

“So are you a fan or just daydreaming?”

One of the store clerks is suddenly next to you. You meet his eyes and notice he’s been watching you with a humorous smirk, “Uhh…I was just…admiring the photography, very skilled photographer with the…the uhh…the way the light is cast in the foreground and um…” You trail off when you notice his disbelieving look. It also didn’t help that you knew nothing else about photography.

“You’re a photographer then? You must be with the media, not just any pony can afford a camera around here you know.” He replies with a hint of condescension.

He’s onto you, better come clean before you dig yourself deeper, “No sorry, just an enthusiast. If you want to know the truth I was looking at the price tag.”

His grin only gets wider, ”You must have pretty good eyes to see something that isn’t there.”

You were trying not to look suspicious, but you can’t help snapping back and searching for a price tag. He was right. And you’ve run out of fallbacks.

”Haha, don’t worry there’s a reason we’re almost sold out of number six you know.”

Wait, what did he call her? “Number six?”

”Yeah, six for the sixth in formation. She’s the newest team member so she gets the last spot until they recruit another or she proves herself.” The statement raises a few questions in your mind. Obviously you could just wait until the show was over and ask her yourself, but this is interesting.

“So how does she prove herself?” You could just imagine the kind of antics Dash would go through to do that.

Your genuine interest seems to spark the clerk’s inner nerd, ”Well for starters, every new recruit is expected to organize the pre-flights. That means they check the weather, test the flight routine in the venue, and give the morning brief.”

“Wow that’s a lot of work, do they do that for every event?”

“Just about, oh and they also run the snack bar back in squadron.”

Dash, running a snack bar? What, does it only stock protein shakes and granola bars? “Ok so how do they move up in formation? Is it a rank thing or what?”

“Yes and no, they’ll never let a lieutenant lead the formation, but most of the other spots are based off of competency.”

If that’s true then you’d bet Dash will be number two in no time at all, heck she might even steal Spitfire’s spot. ”If they do all that as well as execute their show routines well, they get more responsibility in the form of a solo event.”

“Like a wingtip turn?”

His eyes light up in excitement, ”Exactly! And if they do good in that, the other members will convene to determine if they’re ready for a bigger role in the flight.”

“Sounds like you really know your stuff.”

”Yeah? Well, working here has its perks; plus we get the inside scoop on all the happenings.”

This is too fun, “Inside scoop?”

He wiggles his brows in response, ”I’ll let you in on a little bit of info but you have to promise not to tell any pony else, my friend only told me because I’m good at keeping secrets.” Oh really.

“My lips are sealed.”

He stares suspiciously at a pony couple as they walk through the isle behind you. When they’re out of sight he leans over and whispers, ”She’s single.”

You try to contain your smile and whisper back, “Who?”

”The one you’ve been ogling genius.” His eyes nod to the life size poster of Rainbow.

“How do you know that?”

”I’ve got a friend who’s a locker room janitor, she overheard the conversation about a week ago.”

A lot has changed in a week, “Oh really…so you’re saying I’ve got a chance?”

He chuckles at your comment. Wait did he think that was a joke? ”I don’t know, maybe, she doesn’t seem to go for any of the world class stallions she hangs around all day, exotic might be her thing.”

Exotic? You’d never considered yourself exotic before, in fact, you were the least exotic thing in the whole country as far as you were concerned. You do your best to shrug it off.

”So, you want to buy one or what?”

It’s not exactly a pin-up, but it does feel a bit awkward, “Uhh…” You don’t have any photos of Dash yet, and considering how scarce cameras were around here this might be your last shot at getting one for a while. You take in the size of the whole thing one last time and come to a conclusion, “…it might be a bit…big. Do you have anything smaller?”

”You sure? It might be another month before we get more of hers in stock.”

“That popular?”

”Popular, heh! We just got done filling back orders from last month’s show two days ago. Marketing says her uh…male fan base is already bigger than Spitfire’s.” Holy shit. More popular than Spitfire? You weren't one to judge based off of status, you'd love her all the same if she was a janitor in a garbage dump, but the fact that her reputation was eclipsing the iconic captain of the Wonderbolts is shocking. You’re beginning to realize just how lucky you are to have snagged her when you did. In the very back of your mind, a slight feeling of inadequacy begins to take hold.

“Yeah I really don’t have enough wall space.”

”Suit yourself.”

The stallion leads you over to another isle decorated with calendars and team member photos with copied signatures on them. You immediately spot a scaled down version of the life sized one and pick it up. ”So is that going with the rest of your team memorabilia, or on your dresser?” Dang this dude is onto you. Is it that apparent?

“It’s a gift.”

He gives you a flat stare, ”That’s the fourth time I’ve heard that excuse today.”

You sigh, “It’s…yeah, it’s probably going on my dresser.”

He nods with a touch of smugness, ”Just make sure you put it away if you have a mare over or something…my last mare friend almost broke up with me over my Spitfire poster.” That poor mare.

“Ok thanks for the tip.” Somehow you doubt you’ll have the same problem. You check out and bid farewell to the clerk; the throughways are jam packed by the time you leave the store. As you wade through the waist deep sea of pastel fur, pegasi zoom past your head, buffeting you with wind. At this rate you won’t have time to get another soft pretzel before the show starts. You make eye contact with a disgruntled looking minotaur in the same predicament you were. You both exchange a brief nod of mutual understanding. It takes some time to get to your seat in the front row, but you eventually make it.

A sea of colors flows into the stadium accompanied by the dull roar of a couple thousand conversations. You’d never seen this many ponies in one spot before.

”MARES AND GENTLE COLTS PLEASE FIND YOUR SEATS, THE SHOW IS ABOUT TO BEGIN!”

You jump a bit as a unicorn accidentally smacks her shoulder into the back of your head. The ponies behind you might have a harder time seeing because of your height, but unfortunately there wasn’t much room to slouch. More furry creatures fill in to your left and right. Good thing you used the bathroom before you left the apartment. Soon enough, a kind of electric guitar riff begins playing over the megaphones and the announcer begins his intro. This was actually more exciting than you thought it’d be.

The crowd roars as Spitfire leads the six-pony wedge formation into view of the stadium at high-speed. You look up and focus on the minuscule specks, searching for the characteristic color scheme that was attached to your mare. There she is!

She was pretty far away, but she was in the back right of the formation; number six position. Suddenly the team noses over into a dive and kicks on some kind of smoke maker that leaves contrails in their wake. You end up losing her in the mess of smoke as they break out into their routine. You watch in amazement as the six ponies time all their maneuvers and flaps so perfectly they look like a single object.

The show consisted mainly of formation flying and high speed turns, but a few of the ponies had solo parts where they demonstrated a maneuver they perfected. Each time some pony pulled off something death-defying the crowd rose to their hooves to cheer and you got showered with popcorn. You lost Dash in some of the maneuvers, ponies were much more agile than you expected and it was surprisingly difficult to track her even with her distinctive tail. But even without color you found you were able to distinguish between Wonderbolts. When the pegasi weren’t in formation they had distinctly different flying styles; some banked harder into their turns, others streamlined their hooves differently. Dash was unique in the way she swept her wings back ever so slightly.

The demo lacked the ear-splitting turbofans and streaking metal that you normally attributed to airshows. But it was still impressive in its robot-like precision and physics defying stunts.

”TURN YOUR ATTENTION TO THE LEFT SIDE OF THE FIELD WHERE THE NEWEST MEMBER RAINBOW DASH WILL PERFORM A SKILLFUL WINGTIP TURN.”

Looking over you spot Dash circling in a wide loop. The announcer's voice reaches her and she goes into a steep dive, somehow picking up more speed than gravity could accelerate her. You move to the edge of you seat and watch intensely. She’d practiced countless times before, but you can’t help but feel a bit anxious. She levels out briefly before going into a climb—wings outstretched. Oh no.

Whether it was fatigue or strain, her wings weren’t cooperating. Her vertical climb was more of a wobbly line. She senses she can’t hold it straight and throws in a few showy rolls to cover up. The crowd doesn’t know any different, but you’re grinding your teeth. She reaches the apex of her climb and tucks a wing to roll over. Another miscalculation makes her late on the draw. Instead of extending her wing into a vertical dive, she overshoots and goes past vertical. Your stomach drops as she looses lift and her form tumbles uncontrollably in the air. She's a lot closer to the ground than when she practiced these in the park. The cheers of the crowd fade into oblivion as you rise to your feet. Time seems to slow and fear travels cold through your veins. She maintains her posture as she completes another full cartwheel. She was starting to pick up speed and she should be able to use her wings...anytime now...just when you think she's past the point of no return she angles sharply and pulls out of the dive with a toothy grin on her goggled face. You let out your breath. It wasn’t what she’d practiced, but it definitely looked cool. To everyone but you at least. You almost forget you’re not the only spectator until the crowd begins cheering. You shake the last bit of adrenaline from your head and join in.

Twenty minutes later the show’s over and they announce a half-hour break until the Royal Guard Air Wing demonstration. Confused, you fish the ticket out of your pocket and read the itinerary.

WONDERBOLTS 12:30, RGAW 1:00, Obstacle course competition 1:30

‘Wonderbolts’ was a few fonts bigger and in bold, makes sense since you’ve never even heard of the other groups. Most of the ponies were filtering around you to go back into the concession stands, but a few were going the opposite way. It caught your eye and you followed them to the edge of the arena where you see the team members were writing signatures. That gives you an idea.

You look down into your bag and check to make sure your photo was still there. Children and adults alike flood to the edge in increasing numbers, your mind races, plotting the fastest route. Luckily you’re already close to the front.

Despite your advantages, the line had doubled in size by the time you got there. You were a good twenty ponies back or so, but the hardest part wasn’t the waiting, it was trying to pick the right line. Your tall frame was obscured by a few griffins right in front of you. Your patience pays off and eventually you get within line of sight of Dash. You can’t help but smile when you see her soaking up all the glory from her fans. She’s definitely in her element. She has a marker clenched in her teeth and is preoccupied signing various things—mostly hats and patches of her cutie mark. They make patches of her cutie mark? You need one of those.

The line inches closer and closer until only the group of griffins stand between you and her. She looks up at them and you avert your gaze so she wouldn’t notice you. Her familiar scratchy voice cuts through your thoughts, ”What’s up guys?”

”Hi uhh, Ms. Dash…”

The flustered griffin’s friend cuts in, ”It’s his birthday and he was hoping you could write him a note or something!”

”Hah! Sure thing.”

Your gaze is still averted and you coincidentally make eye contact with another member of the team off to the side. She’s a teal color above her flight suit with silvery white hair. She holds the stare before glancing at Dash then back to you. A wide grin splits her face and she goes back to signing autographs. What was that all about?

”…Wait wait wait can you kiss it too?”

”Hey shutup! Sorry Ms. Dash my friends aren’t the most polite.” The flustered griffin elbows his friend.

”Haha! No worries! Go ask Fleetfoot if you want something like that.”

”O-okay, uhh…thanks it was awesome to meet you haha!”

The silver haired pegasus to your left turns in response to her name and Dash offers a parting ‘happy birthday’ to the nervous griffin. Finally your turn, you walk up to the surprised Wonderbolt with a big grin, “So it’s not my birthday or anything, but I am your biggest fan so if you could write me a note too that’d be great.”

Unable to think of a response she just stares at you and struggles to suppress a blush as she takes the picture from your hand. She fails horribly once she sees her own portrait. The mare you’d figured was named Fleetfoot broke out laughing mid-writing. She hands the cap back to the young filly who was ecstatic despite the abrupt squiggle in the middle of the signature, ”What’s the matter Dash? He’s your biggest fan.”

Your mare shoots an annoyed look at the smug pegasus before regaining her composure. Dash turns back to you with a confident smirk, ”So…biggest fan huh? You know some ponies come all the way from Las Pegasus to watch the Canterlot show?” Her eyes hold yours and you pick up the hidden mirth in her flippant tone.

You lean over the railing and lower your voice a bit, “Well I came all the way from another planet so…” You hold your stare as you slowly infect her with your grin.

”Okay fine, just don’t frame it and put it on your dresser or something.” What is with ponies reading your mind today? Her brow furrows as she takes a second to contemplate her message. It was at this moment you become distinctly aware that you’re standing in the front of a very long line. You turn back to avoid eye contact with angry ponies and see Dash furiously writing something in the bottom corner of the picture. She finally finishes and hoofs it back to you. You don’t take the time to read the note yet; you’ll save it for later.

“So are you going to kiss it, or should I ask Fleetfoot?” You nod over to the grinning pegasus who was still very much in tune with your conversation. That definitely put her on the spot. You’d feel bad if she didn’t have such a massive ego.

“Yeah she won’t do it, hop over in my line big guy and—“

“—Shutup Fleet!…Arrgh!” She takes the picture back with suppressed rage and hastily kisses the backside of it, leaving a light blue lipstick mark. She can’t avoid her blush now. You lean in close to her fiery eyes and take it from her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you a zap apple sandwich to make up for it.” You whisper.

”You’re gonna do a lot more than that.” She replies under her breath. Despite your tense moment you linger enough to breathe in each other's scent.

You lean back, “I guess there’s a line so…” She drops her eyes before flashing a smile of gratitude; the fact that you came all the way up here just to watch her perform wasn’t lost on her. Unfortunately the setting limited her dialogue.

”Later Anon uh…” She realizes she wasn’t supposed to know your name and shuffles while awkwardly looking away. Fleetfoot giggles and Dash shoots her another venomous look. Dash must’ve told her about you. You knew the last thing Dash would want is to make a scene, so you keep it brief.

“Thanks Ms. Dash.” Your eyes linger on each other until you turn around and head up the steps to the top of the stadium. You carefully place the picture back in its envelope and wrap it up in your bag. As you make your way up, you can’t help but glance back a few times at the purpose of your trip. You caught her glancing back up at you just as you make it to the top, her smile returning full force.

Leaving the venue was much more difficult than getting in. Not only did you have to deal with a few thousand ponies getting food and drinks, but the exits were also clogged from ponies who only came for the Wonderbolts show. Despite this you manage to retrace your steps to the train station and order your ticket back to Ponyville. Finding an empty waiting bench, you take a seat and enjoy the scenery looking off the mountaintop city.

The sun was well on its way towards the horizon and it cast short shadows over the crystal clear countryside. An athletic looking pegasus stallion trots over and takes a seat at the opposite end of the bench. That’s strange, normally ponies didn’t choose to sit next to the bipedal alien. You contemplate striking up conversation with the stranger, but decide not to out of fear of scaring him away.

”You must be Anon.” You turn to the silvery stallion who apparently wasn’t as much of a stranger as you thought.

“Y-yeah…I’m sorry have we met before?”

He relaxes a bit once you confirm his guess, ”No no I’ve just heard a lot about you.”

Was he working in the research department that you were going to? “Really? From who…if you don’t mind me asking?” You feel a brief rise of excitement. You’d never exactly been popular before.

”Crash—uhh, Rainbow talks a lot about you.”

That explains it, he must be another Wonderbolt. You quickly glance down at his cutie mark. You don’t have them memorized, but you figured just about every Wonderbolt you saw had some kind of lightning something or other. You still weren’t sure how socially acceptable it was to look at another ponies butt…especially since he was a guy, but that unfortunately came as an afterthought in the following awkward silence. He clears his throat and fills in the blank for you.

“Sorry, I’m Soarin by the way.”

Oh yeah, you’ve heard of him. He extends a hoof which you go to shake, at the last moment you catch yourself and do the formal fist bump instead, “Nice to meet you, I’m Anon, but I guess you already know that?”

”Yeah, sorry if it’s a bit weird, but the way she described you, I figured you had to be him.”

You weren’t sure if Dash told her team about your relationship so you figured you’d play it safe, “Hopefully she told you the good stories.”

”Haha, the way she talks, all there are are good stories.”

You can’t help but smile at the thought, ”I’m glad to hear that. Say, why aren’t you back with the team?”

”Oh, I sprained my rotator cuff and can’t use my left wing for a few weeks.”

“That sucks.”

”Yeah, but I was still down with the team earlier today to run their ground coordination. Cap’n gave me the rest of the weekend off to go visit family so that’s where I’m headed now.”

“You have family in Ponyville?”

”No, Appleoosa, about an hour past there.”

“Ok…”

”How about you? I take it you’re not from around here.”

“No I’m from another universe.”

”Uhh…what?”

Dash and Twilight were the only other ponies you’d dropped that on before, but it was accurate to the best of your knowledge, “Yep, as far as I can tell, that pretty much sums it up.”

To your surprise it looks like he believes you, ”So…what’s it like from where you come from? Uh, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He actually sounds curious, “Not at all. It’s mostly the same, but with more smog and no magic.”

”What’s smog?”

You figured he’d ask about the magic first, “It's kinda like smoke but from burning petroleum. Makes everything look brown and hazy.”

”Huh, sounds…interesting.”

“I don’t miss it, well, some things I miss but not that.” He takes a moment to think of his response as if to avoid any potentially touchy topics. You appreciate the concern but there wasn’t much that bothered you about it anymore.

”So I take it you like it here?”

“Yeah, I actually like it a lot, I got an apartment set up in Ponyville.”

”With Rainbow?”

That catches you off guard, but you do your best to roll with it. You knew she was close with her team, you should’ve known word would get out to them first. At least it would help explain Fleetfoot’s behavior.

“Well…kind of.”

He grins and wiggles his brows at you. The train suddenly arrives in a roar of hissing and steam—momentarily saving you from the awkward turn of conversation. Soarin wasn’t about to let you off that easy though and he follows you aboard to take a seat next to you, “So how does ‘kind of’ living together work?”

You always considered yourself a fairly private person, and you felt much more inclined to keep your life private now that Dash was involved as well. But something about the stallion put you at ease; the fact that he was her team member was added insurance that he could be trusted, “We never actually discussed anything…that I can remember. She just…started staying there.” Confessing it out loud made you realize how spontaneous it seems.

“When exactly did it start though?”

That seems oddly specific, “Uhh…I guess a few days ago. Why?”

He waves his hoof dismissively and leans back on the bench as the train lurches forward, “Oh no don’t worry about it I just owe somepony ten bits.”

“For what?”

“Spitfire said you two would get together before the end of summer. I bet her it would take longer than that or it wouldn’t happen at all. Gotta admit she makes a good cap’n, she sure knows her wing ponies.”

“Wait hold up. She bet on…she knew about us? For how long?”

His eyes squint as he struggles to recall, “We made the bet on the day training season started in March…” He trails off only to return a moment later with more confidence, “…yep because that was the day she wouldn’t shut up about her awesome new friend who was like a minatour but didn’t smell as bad.”

“Hahaha! I’m glad she has such a high opinion of me.”

“Yeah well that’s the closest thing to a compliment I’ve ever heard from her so be grateful.”

“Tell me about it…”

The train rolls on and you keep each other entertained for the duration of your trip. Topics range from mares to ale and finally to your mutually shared skepticism that Celestia actually moves the sun. You voiced your very legitimate fear that you’d be burned at the stake for saying such things, but he just laughed it off. You wouldn’t have expected to get along that well with a jock like him, but he’s a pretty cool guy.

The train finally comes to a halt in front of Ponyville station and Soarin snags your arm after you part ways, ”Hey listen, I uhh…as a friend, of Dash’s that is. Take good care of her. She’s had some bad experiences in the past, and she deserves a good stallion.”

The weight of his words sober you up, “That I can promise.”

He nods before stopping you again, ”Oh, and remember to go easy when she’s got a show the next day. It was a mess trying to coordinate for the time she lost during her solo.”

Go easy? Oh, that. That’s why she messed up…and he knew. Your guilt is covered up by a light blush as he chuckles and waves you off. You step off the train and make your way through the dirt streets back to your humble apartment. The sun was just beginning to set so you turn your lights on to make some dinner.

An hour later you were curled up on your fresh sheets, reading through ‘Introductory Electrical Engineering.’ It was a bit simplistic, but it gave you a few ideas on how you were going to build your toaster. The whole idea is pretty stupid to begin with. Of all the things you were qualified for, you got a job pulling a toaster out of your ass. But money is money.

You set the book down and go to turn off the lights, but you stop when you realize you still hadn’t read Dash’s note. You fish for the bag and remove the picture. Your Wonderbolt’s bright smile stares back at you. You love her so much. Even this picture of her got you feeling all fuzzy inside.

The note in the corner reads, “I’m really bad with mushy writing but I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get home. ~Love Dash”

Your own laughter surprises you as it echoes through the empty room. You briefly wonder if she was referring to your apartment as 'home.' The picture turns over in your hands and you study the blue puckered lip marks on the back. You’d never seen her wear any sort of makeup before, must be something they do for shows. You avoid your urge to touch it out of fear of it smearing.

The bed feels empty and the blankets feel cold; it suddenly hits you that you won’t see her again until Sunday. Call it needy or clingy or whatever, but you really miss her. You never realized how much you’d gotten used to having someone around.

You take a deep breath and lean the picture against your lamp, her confident eyes looking at you. Knowing Dash she probably didn’t let the cat out of the bag intentionally, and she might still even be fighting it, but knowing she’d been bragging about you really warmed your heart. it made you feel…valued, like nothing else ever had before. Soarin’s parting words echo through your thoughts, “I promise I’ll be good to you.” It sounds a bit silly talking to a picture but you ignore those thoughts. You flip the lights off and struggle to fall asleep without the extra warmth. Eventually you doze off as you mentally plan your next few days alone.