With an alarming sense of regularity, Friday morning followed Thursday. This Friday morning however was different. This Friday morning came after the big gaming night party at Caffeinated’s ranch the night before. It had been a memorable party for a number of reasons. Air Raid had gotten together with Amethyst and Cream, zebras from the Sand and Coffee Tribes respectively. Darkstar had gotten with Slate, a zebra stallion from the Broncs in Manehatten.

Most of all, from Wildfire’s point of view, it had been a memorable party because Princess Twilight had cast the spell on her and Serenity to guarantee them fillies when they were next in heat and, more than that, she had been able, for the first time in five years, to catch up with her old friends.

She had met Brightstar’s wife, Moonbeak, the thirty five year old griffon who had kindly agreed to supply the photography for her upcoming wedding to Airmail. She had met Dusk and Brush Stroke’s delightful little unicorn colt that they had adopted back in Trottingham.

Yes, all in all, everything considered, it had been a most excellent party.

That, however, had been the Thursday. Now it was Friday and at six a.m. Airmail’s alarm buzzed its very loud and irritating discordant noise through the bedroom of their townhouse. Wildfire, who had been snuggling deep into Airmail’s wing joint with Tempest behind her, stirred with a loud wide yawn. “Ugh…s-stupid alarm…” she muttered, not for the first time, she cursed the fact that she was a light sleeper.

Beside her, and nearest to the offending alarm clock, Airmail reached a hoof over to the nightstand and quickly turned it off. “I’m sorry for that love, but after the party last night, I can't trust myself to wake up.”

Stretching her wings, Wildfire let out another wide yawn. Almost as if to rub it in, Tempest produced a snore so loud she swore the windows rattled. “I suppose I'll get used to it, babes…” Wildfire grumbled, though there wasn’t much feeling behind the grumble. Instead, she felt for her fiancé’s body and, having found her, she gave her a very passionate good morning kiss.

On the receiving end of the kiss, Airmail allowed her little lover to put the effort in to get that kiss. “I'm making breakfast,” she announced as she too stretched her wings and her legs, feeling several loud pops in response. She had to admit, the gaming night with her greater herd had been one of the best in recent memory. “You can go back to dream land.”

Wildfire absolutely did not argue with that, at all. Giving the older azure blue pegasus one last kiss on the nose, she collapsed back to the bed. “Y-You have a good one, sweetie…” with a chuckle, Airmail turned to head through to the bathroom to begin her morning regimen. She wasn’t at the door when she heard two sets of cute snoring coming from the bed behind her.

Three hours later, at the far more respectable time of nine a.m., Wildfire was awoken by a series of soft nibbles delivered up and down the length of her left ear. “Hmmm...” in her half-awake state, she tried to roll over away from the offending lips that were nibbling her ear, only to discover four strong legs holding her still.

In an attempt to shake off the lips that were nibble kissing her ear, she flicked it only to discover teeth holding it still. Holding it still and gently biting at the inside in just that way that made her yellow wings want to flare outwards. “Ahh...hmm!” again, she yawned herself fully awake. “I-I'm awake, honest…”

“Good,” Tempest beamed a victorious smile that reached all the way to her voice as the morning sunlight shone through the open drapes and illuminated the bedroom. “Then you can make me coffee.”

“Oh, alrighty, seeing as you asked nicely,” Wildfire smiled. As wake-up calls went, this wasn’t the worst she had ever endured. Added to that, the fact that she was still in a very good mood from the party, the little blind mare couldn’t help but smile. “Kiss first, please.”

Tempest saw that as a far trade. Kiss for coffee. Quickly, the violet weather mare released Wildfire’s ear and nibbled her way down the side of the yellow pegasus’s face. When she reached her cheek, Tempest made her way across her face, lightly kissing her way across one empty eye socket until she got to her mouth. One very, very deep kiss later and Tempest let her go. “Nice to start the day with somepony.”

“It's nice to start it twice with kisses!” Wildfire replied, for the second time she got up and, like Airmail before her, stretched her wings and her legs until she heard muscles pop.

Tempest giggled, for she could see the point of that, too. “Airy could molest me when she gets up and I wouldn't know,” she added with a smile. This much was true. When she was asleep, Tempest slept the sleep of the dead.

As Wildfire slid off of the bed, and began stretching out on the floor, she swore she could hear Tempest snuggling back into the bed and especially the very comfortable pillows. “Heh, are those pillows snuggly, Honey?” she asked, stretching her toned ass in the air one last time. She giggled to herself as she heard Tempest making many happy mumbling noises into her pillow.

“Alrighty,” Wildfire yawned, “coffee time…” with that thought in mind, the blind mare trotted out of the bedroom into the hallway. Counting the doors with her wingtip pressed to the wall, she found the stairs where she had left them and, hovering her way down, arrived at the dining room. Turning ninety degrees to her right, she walked ahead until she felt the carpet change to tiles. That told her she was in the kitchen.

One more step forward into the kitchen and she walked nose first into an index card hanging from the centre of the open door frame. Wholly not expecting it, Wildfire squeaked at the contact of something new and different. Reaching her left forehoof up to touch it, she found that there were regular bumps on the card. Very quickly she surmised that somepony, likely Airmail, had used her braille tape machine. “Oooh it's a note, aww!” Wildfire squealed in foalish delight and, taking down the card, found the top left corner and scanned it with her hoof.

‘If you feeling this, Stormy is still asleep. Coffee is prepped, start it and done in fifteen mins. I made hay cakes. Staying warm in oven. Remember diet starts today. Syrup and butter okay to use. Love you and I kissed this card.’

“Aww Airy!” Wildfire beamed and, kissing the braille lettering, she placed the card on the worktop near the coffee machine. “Alrighty...” she felt with her hooves and flipped the switch, “Sir Coffee on, tray ready, mugs…” she talked to herself, checking off a mental list before turning to the fridge.

As she opened it up to reach for the butter and syrup, she noticed that there were now braille labels on everything inside. Offering up a silent thank you to her fiancé, she placed the items on the tray next to the coffee mugs. Next, as planned, she retrieved the still warm hay cakes from the oven. “Yay!” Wildfire clapped her hooves happily, very proud of herself. “One breakfast in bed all sorted, wohoo!”

Taking the wide tray up in her forehooves, Wildfire spread her wings and hovered her way back through the dining room in search of the stairs. Trailing the toes of her hind hooves on the floor to feel the change in surface material.

Once she was back up the stairs, she hovered her way along the hallway to the bedroom. She hadn’t even reached the open door before she heard soft regular snoring breaths coming from Tempest on the bed. Snores that is, until Wildfire hovered into the bedroom. Then the snores changed to sniffing. “Room service, Honey!” Wildfire declared loudly.

Tempest, who was by now wide awake, thanks in no small part to the delicious smell of coffee and hay cakes, rolled over onto her back. “You, my love, are a keeper!” she clapped her hooves and inspected the tray, curious to see if Wildfire had bought enough for them both.

Giggling, Wildfire hovered carefully over to the sound of Tempest’s voice until she felt her hind leg hit the side of the bed. “There's enough for you and me, Honey. Guide me in to land.”

“Let me take the tray and then lay next to me,” Tempest giggled like a big filly, “so eighteen inches forward for tray delivery and twenty four inches to your left for landing.” Doing as she was told, Wildfire moved forward still careful to avoid dropping the tray and, once Tempest had taken it from her, hovered up and onto the bed.

“You made hay cakes too!” Tempest let out a delighted little squee, her attention momentarily distracted away from the wondrous scent of the much-needed coffee. “I hope you're still okay with this, Wily,” she said in all seriousness.

Wildfire cocked her head to the side, “Well to be totally honest Airy made them, I just served them,” she admitted, not wanting to take credit for another pony’s work. As far as the hay cakes were concerned though, she understood Tempest’s hesitance. “Yuppers, I'm totally cool with it.”

Satisfied at that, Tempest wasted no further time in spreading butter and syrup on her hay cakes. “Okay, as long as you don't think there’s any pressure,” she said, pausing as she took a huge bite and swallowing, “I'm sort of looking forward to some messy play.”

Wildfire nodded, she appreciated Tempest going slow with this. “I’ve known pressure Honey.” She stated as she too took a bite out of her stack of cakes, “trust me, I'm looking forward to trying this with you too.”

Fifteen minutes later, the only sounds that filled the bedroom were the two lover’s eating their breakfast. “For today’s exercise,” Tempest said, breaking the silence after her fourth hay cake, “let’s take a trip to the Manehatten weather factory. You can get some way points and meet a few ponies you'll be dealing with.”

“Oooh,” Wildfire liked the sound of that, a lot. The underwater swimming she had done yesterday at the lake before the gaming night party had been great, but going to the weather factory almost sounded like a treat. “Honey that sounds awesomes!”

Tempest nodded as she took a drink of her coffee. “Come Monday, you'll be ahead of the game.”

“I do like the sound of that,” Wildfire agreed, taking a very welcome drink of her black coffee, “it'll impress Rung too, show him that I'm willing.”

“I think he knows that already, love,” Tempest giggled, placing a little kiss on Wildfire’s lips, “but this will show him how proactive you are too.”

“That's kinda what I meant…”

Playfully, Tempest kissed Wildfire once more, “I thought as much, but your Canterlot accent got in the way,” she said with a giggle.

“Hey...” Wildfire said reproachfully, sneaking in a kiss of her own, “don't make me do the really posh voice!”

“It is funny though.” Tempest giggled as she finished off her coffee. “Airy did a good job on the cakes and the coffee was fresh. Thank you Wily, for the room service.” She looked at the now three quarters empty tray, “Is that enough breakfast for you? It is a little over fifty miles over to the weather factory.”

“Yuppers!” Wildfire squeaked, having finished her third hay cake. “That was super yummy Honey! Any more though and I shan't be able to fly.”

“Okay,” Tempest said, giving Wildfire a nudge to get her moving, “You go to the computer room and get your gear programed, I’ll take this tray down to the kitchen and wash up. The factory has a beacon for balloonists and airships since it doesn't stay in one place.”

With a groan of a very full belly, Wildfire slid off of the bed. “Ugh, I gotcha Honey, let’s do this!”

“I just like to make things easy.” Tempest snickered as she took up the tray in her hooves. “You sit down and get to it please, Wily, I got this tray.”

“Alrighty,” Wildfire, taking the lead out of the bedroom, took a left and entered the spare bedroom that they used as an office. As she sat at her terminal, she heard Tempest making her way on down the stairs. Feeling to the right of her keyboard, her hoof touched the right cable and she attached it to her headset. Not for the first time, she was grateful that everything was in the exact same place that she left it.

A little fiddling with her computer later, as well as one well used curse when she accidentally used the wrong link, Wildfire found the website she needed. https://manehatten.weather.com was the main site, and just a few button clicks later she had the weather factory frequency programmed into one of her flight suit beacons. “Manehatten Weather Factory is Point Seven!”

“Very good,” Tempest smiled when Wildfire came downstairs, all victorious with her flight suit and her headset on ready. It was the little things like that, that made Tempest so proud of her little mare and how far she had come in just the few weeks she had known her. “Set the pace, Wily,” she said as she followed her outside into the back yard, “I'll stay near.”

Wildfire nodded at that, her aspect all serious. She didn’t take lightly the responsibility that Tempest had just given her. Sliding the power button on the bit of her headset in her mouth with her tongue, she requested, “Point Seven, distance and direction.” Straightaway, she was told it was at one degree and fifty three miles.

“If you take the direct route, you'll need to climb to three thousand feet to avoid the Manehatten Air Traffic Control,” Tempest supplied helpfully.

“I was just gonna check the altitude,” Wildfire smiled, “you beat me to it by like, one second I swear!” Still smiling, she spoke to her headset microphone, “altitude alert every five hundred feet, cap at three thousand.” With that done, she spread her yellow wings and launched herself into the air.

A second later and Tempest followed Wildfire, taking off into a steady climb up to three thousand feet. She did have an ulterior motive to allowing her diminutive lover to lead, that she was watching her moves, sharp blue eyes ready to spot any weaknesses.

It wasn’t long into the flight, just a few hundred feet up into the clear blue cloudless sky that Wildfire began to favour her left wing. Beating a fraction harder than her right, just ever so slightly. “I tell you what Honey,” Wildfire said, unaware of this, “I think those exercises of yours have paid off.”

“I agree,” Tempest called from behind, “but I'm still having you do some underwater laps,” she snickered, “I love the idea of sitting on the beach eating ice cream while I watch.”

“You'll get fat!”

“I was hoping you and Airy would exercise me,” Tempest threw back at Wildfire’s shapely rump. Her shapely rump that was well defined by the very, very tight flight suit. “Unless you like round ponies of course.”

Wildfire was about to reply to that with snark of equal quality when her proximity sensor warned her of a soft collision with an object approaching from plus zero, and one hundred and eighty degrees. “Uh...” the blind mare quickly processed that, “that's behind me...” angling herself upwards, she climbed to avoid the pony.

“Aw!” Tempest exclaimed, thumping one forehoof into the other. She didn’t expect it to work, but she had hope. “I guess there is no sneaking up on you now.” While she was of course pleased that Wildfire’s tech worked, she was a teeny bit annoyed her prank had failed.

“Honey!” Wildfire giggled as her suit told her that the object had moved out of sensor range off to her right, “Who's to say I don't like round mares? We could be your feeders.”

“Sounds like fun,” Tempest snickered, once again taking up her position behind Wildfire, just so she could check out her flying. Not to check her out. Not at all. “I don't want to be a round mare. Too hard to get into my uniform.”

“All sexy and curvy?” Wildfire giggled, “Hmm…yummers!” As she flew along, getting ever closer to the weather factory, thoughts ran through her little head. Still she was drifting on the wing, but this went unnoticed as she was thinking mostly about her immediate future. “Y’know, Honey, I can’t believe we’re going to be in a new house soon, and that I’m going to be pregnant with Fireflight…”

“How did you, and do you feel from Tinkerer?” Tempest asked kindly, wanting to gauge Wildfire’s feelings on the subject.

“I felt secure,” Wildfire answered very quickly. It was the same kind of feeling she had with Airmail and Tempest. “I felt like he'd take care of me.”

Tempest understood that feeling. “They have only been in the herd for about two years. I really like Belle, she’s a lot of fun with the tickle dry. Tinkerer is the serious one in the marriage.”

“Oh, I remember the tickle dry!” Wildfire really, really remembered the tickle dry courtesy of Belle and her magic. “I can’t believe I’m gonna be a future beach ball smuggler.”

Tempest laughed, “Sounds like another super-secret mission for stealth pony!” for a moment she forgot about flying as she was laughing so hard, “Mother Hen can coordinate the activities!”

Wildfire had to agree with that. “Honey, you're the bestest Hen ever!”

“Bawk baw bawk suuuuuuuper chicken!” Tempest squawked, flying a little circle around her little herd-mate.

Wildfire laughed, she couldn’t help it. “Y-You're pretty high up for a chicken!”

“That’s because I'm super chicken,” Tempest declared heroically, “I’m not just your ordinary cluck!”

Wildfire’s laughter turned to giggles that threatened to never end. “Oh…oh Honey s-stop...I'm trying to fly straight!” she protested, although she had a definite and distinctive bank to the left happening as she flew along.

This banking did not go unnoticed by Tempest who was following close behind her. “Tell me, Wily, how are you doing?”

“Alrighty...why?” Wildfire asked, as without any visual references she was unaware of her bank to the left. “I’m flying straight…” fifteen minutes later though, after getting continuous course corrections from her headset, Wildfire slowed down to a hover. “Stormy? I-I'm confused.”

Tempest, seeing Wildfire hover, moved in to within two metres. “About what, love?”

“The Weather Factory...” again, Wildfire moved her head about this way and that, “either they're constantly moving it to the right, or my headset's bust!”

Tempest scanned the sky ahead of her. Immediately she spied some clouds not far away from where they were. “There’s a bank of clouds about four miles out from here,” she said as she hovered closer and stroked Wildfire’s flank with her wingtip. “Change your headset to follow me and then follow me to the cloud. Okay?”

“Yuppers, you got it Honey.” Switching her headset from Point Seven to Point One, Wildfire obediently followed Tempest in a straight line the four short miles to the bank of clouds.

“Still think your headset’s bust?”

Wildfire was even more confused than before. “Well, no...so, the factory's moving? You said it did, Honey.”

“It does move, yes, so I'm going to take a break here and you switch back to the factory and let me know if it’s moving.” Tempest said to her, intent on waiting for some stiffness to set into Wildfire's wing. She had an idea that she wouldn’t be waiting very long.

“Alrighty,” going back to her headset, Wildfire turned her target back from Point One to Point Seven. She cocked her head to one side in concentration. It most certainly wasn’t moving now. “Ugh…it-it’s staying still now... nggh...damn!” she cursed, still not understanding why now all of a sudden the factory was still.

“Fold your legs under you and spread your wings.”

“Okay,” hastening to do as she was told, Wildfire sat down on the cloudlet and she spread her wings out to their fullest span, flinching as her right reached its full stretch.

The next thing Wildfire felt was Tempest straddle her back, facing the same way she was. Very, very carefully, the violet weather mare poked the phalanges of her right wing into Wildfire’s right wing joint at the body. “Hurt a bit?”

“Aaaah! Y-Yes, it does a little…”

“You know what I'm going to do next?”

“G-Gimme a wing rub?” Wildfire asked optimistically, her chin resting on the cloudlet’s surface. Wordlessly, Tempest used her other wingtip and distributed an equal force on Wildfire’s left wing joint. “Huh...th-hat feels fine…”

Curiously, Tempest tilted her head to one side. She processed what her wingtips were telling her as well as what she had witnessed on the flight so far. “Hmm, that is odd. You've been favouring your left wing this whole flight…” trailing off, Tempest lowered herself to Wildfire’s back and started a functional back and wing massage. “Tell me where the pain is.”

As she received the massage, Tempest’s diagnosis percolated into Wildfire’s head. “So, I've been drifting, not the factory?”

“Yes Wily.” Tempest replied as she massaged her lover’s wing joints at the barrel of her body, “I thought at first you were favouring your left wing for an injury. Now though, it seems your right wing is better developed.” This was good. Tempest knew just what to do with this issue. “That means physical therapy in your future.”

“Hmm,” Wildfire didn’t argue. Instead, she nodded her head in understanding. “That kinda makes sense, Tempest.”

“Why is that?” Tempest asked curiously, noting immediately the use of her actual name rather than nick name.

“My left wing was broken more frequently at the Home.” Wildfire answered her herd-mate, “It was Amber Leaves’ favourite area to go for. She was vicious with her bull whip.”

“Oh,” Tempest mused, she was trying with all her focus to not start preening Wildfire’s wings, otherwise they’d be here on this cloudlet for a long time. “It seemed when Luna was healing you, both your wings were in bad shape,” she said as she leant forward to deliver a kiss before returning to the massage. “Just means we need to work on the left wing more than the right, that’s all.”

“They were,” Wildfire agreed quickly to what Tempest had said. “Well, you remember how bad they were as well as I do, I’m sure, I can only guess the ligaments and tendons are taking longer to attach on my left than on my right.”

Tempest looked her lover over once her impromptu massage was completed. “It worries me love, but it has been a short time since Luna cast her spell. We’ll see what exercise can do, but I'm having Ser check you for pain and Luna give you a check-up in two weeks, just to be sure.”

“Oh I'll be fine Honey,” Wildfire waved her hoof a little dismissively, “don't you fret about me.”

Moving around to face Wildfire on the cloudlet, Tempest playfully booped her yellow nose. “I may not be your wife, but I'm still senior to you in the herd.”

Wildfire giggled, “everypony's senior to me!”

“And don't you forget it, young mare!” Tempest declared, punctuating her statement with another little boop to Wildfire’s nose. “Ser would love to feel your pain, so you be a nice little pony and let her. In two weeks it’s BDSM night, you really think Luna will be a no show?”

“Of course not Honey,” Wildfire replied, flexing her wings and finding they felt rather excellent. “I can't see Luna missing any at all in the future,” she giggled, nodding her head as she did so. “And, yes ma'am, I'll be a good pony for Beauty.”

That satisfied Tempest. “Good mare, that will save me the trouble of tickling you into submission!”

“Oh no Mistress!” Wildfire laughed, “Please, not the tickling!”

“Love you too, Wildfire.” Tempest snickered. She checked over her massage and found it adequate to her standards, which was to say, excellent. “Now, you need to know what you're doing and try to work your left wing a little harder to keep you straight.” When Wildfire nodded her understanding of Tempest’s instruction, the violet pegasus continued, “You're in the lead again and this time I'll let you know when you start to drift left.”

“You got it, Honey.” Making sure her headset was set for Point Seven, Wildfire took off from the little cloudlet. Her tech told her that there was just twenty miles left to go. “Not much further now Honey, we’re nearly there.”

Tempest laughed, “You're the one with the fancy gear, Wily!”

“It just said twenty miles, so we're under half way.”

“Yes, you were doing well getting to the cloudlet.” Tempest commented, “You're in good shape, it’s just your right wing is in better shape than your left. I guess you're Celestite at heart.”

Wildfire sniggered, “I guess you're right, even with her sun being raised at stupidly early times!”

“I wouldn't know,” Tempest said as she laughed, she could count the number of times she’d seen a sunrise on the primary feathers of her left wing.

Wildfire shrugged her shoulders as she flew towards the Manehatten Weather Factory. She made sure to work her left wing harder than her right. Straightaway she noticed she wasn’t getting nearly as many course correction notices. “The benefit of being blind, neither do I.”

“Then, how do you know it’s early?”

“Airy's alarm goes off!”

“It does?” Tempest asked with a giggle.

“Yuppers,” Wildfire nodded eagerly, “it does this really annoying 'beeeeep' that makes you wanna hit it with a hammer, just to make sure it’s turned off.”

“Ooohh, I think that’s when I'm dreaming I'm pushing Airy's nose and it makes that cute sound.” Tempest snorted out her loud barking laugh.

“It's not cute...” Wildfire grumbled playfully in the lead position, loud enough to make sure Tempest heard her. “Neither is the revving chainsaw lying next to me in bed.”

“Airy snores!” Tempest whooped with delighted glee. Of course she knew it was really her, but that didn’t stop her teasing the feathers off of her little lover. “I'm going to so tease her. Besides, I like to think of myself as more a buzz saw than a chain saw.”

Wildfire giggled, “whichever, you're still cute.”

“My saving grace,” Tempest commented as they flew along. By now she could see the weather factory appear in the distance. She was pleased to see they were on target, but… “you're doing better, but you are still drifting a little to the left.”

“Uh huh...” Wildfire grunted, still working her left wing harder, “I figured as much. It's weird...it doesn't feel like I'm drifting until the headset corrects me.”

“Your left wing muscles are weaker than the right, but since you feel you're using both at max capacity, it is hard to tell.” Tempest explained.

“Hmmm....and if I could see then it'd be immediately obvious I was going off course.”

That didn’t really sit well with Tempest. Yes, Wildfire couldn’t see, but she hated hearing her say it as bluntly as that. “Don’t say it like that, Wily. You need a real reason to say it. After all, your gear won't tell you the colour of their eyes, or if they are leaking under the tail just seeing you...well,” she corrected herself, “Your nose may give you that information.”

Wildfire giggled out loud, for she was reminded of her conversation with her old nurse as they got ever closer to their location. “Now you sound like Eirene, Honey.”

“I'll take that as high praise indeed, then.” Tempest replied, “I’m swooping in for a kiss.”

The only other warning Wildfire got was her proximity alarm going off in her ear as Tempest dived in and kissed her lips. “Heh, 'nothing to it, but to do it', she used to say.”

“There’s a lot of truth in that,” Tempest said gently, “That is why I know you can do this job. Sure you need some more training, but that won't stop you, right?”

“Pfft! Of course not!” Wildfire shook her head defiantly, determination rife in her voice. “Nothing's stopping this little yellow pegasus now!”

“Good,” Tempest added, stroking Wildfire’s flank with her hoof, “Factory is about a mile out now.”

“Stormy?” Wildfire spoke up, her voice sounding far more serious than she had in the last few minutes. “In all seriousness, I haven't come this far just to stop now.”

Tempest smiled at that. She just loved that determined tone in Wildfire’s voice. She dearly wished she could hear it more often. “I know love. It helps when there are those around you that won't let you give up on yourself.”

“You mean like you and Airy...and a whole load of other ponies who believe in me as well,” Wildfire said with a nod of her head. “Each and every one of you inspire me Honey. Mum, you, Airy, everypony in the herd!” she smiled, a smile that got a little wider when she heard the weather factory get very close now.

“I expect a poem on my desk by Friday of next week,” Tempest ordered, though her definite blush was hidden by her bright little giggle.

“Yes ma'am!” Wildfire giggled and put on a mock salute. “You can have one when we land, Honey.”

“Okay, the beacon should be the main gateway to the city which is coming up fast.” Tempest gave Wildfire a little warning as they glided the last few dozen feet to Cloudhatten and the Weather Factory. “I'll follow you in to land.” She watched, again impressed at how well the blind mare followed her directions to land on the cloud at the gate.

“Okay,” Tempest said as she landed perfectly next to Wildfire’s right side on the cloud step outside the factory. Bigger even than her old university in Trottingham, it was a huge white edifice made of cloud. “It will take time to know your way around, and to set some more way points. To our front is the admin building were we will start the tour. Past that is the different divisions. Rain clouds will be your mainstay, unless you want some snow in our backyard.”

Wildfire giggled, as soon as she felt the mass of the cloud under her four hooves she could tell it was a lot different to the cloudlet they had rested on. It felt stronger, firmer, a lot more permanent. Wildfire supposed it had to be as it was supporting what she imagined was the massive factory. “The ah, the snow would be cool oh...and here you go…”

“Open your heart to happiness
Let every pore absorb light
Swim in the joy of the here and now
And cast off the darkness of night
Walk in the summer of sunshine
Fly in the blueness of sky
Know possibilities are boundless
Understand that nothing can die
Step from the shadows of torment
Sing 'til your throat gets too sore
Smile for as long as the day is
And laugh just a little bit more
Breathe slowly and deeply and listen
Give all your ideas a chance
Let the sun beat down on your goodness
And kick off your shoes and dance.”

Again, though for a different reason now, Tempest was impressed with her diminutive lover. How she could just come up with that, amazing poem on the spot like that. Not for the first time, she wondered why her cutie mark wasn’t something literary related. She did have the talent, after all. “Lovely, just…lovely!” Tempest squee’d, “of course it seems more Celestia centred than Luna centred, but I won't tell.”

“As long as you promise not to,” Wildfire snickered, already committing her most recent poem to memory so she could record it in her new electronic journal later. “I think we're safe.”

Tempest grinned as she stroked Wildfire’s flank with her wingtip to get her undivided attention. “Walk beside me with your wing touching and I'll introduce you to a few ponies.” She said gently, for she knew her headset wouldn’t be of much use inside the weather factory’s almost labyrinthine interior.

“Yuppers,” Wildfire nodded, and with her hooves she felt her way around to Tempest’s left so that her older taller herd-mate was on her right – she just felt ‘right’ with her there - and she reached out for her with her right wing. She was excited, but also she was nervous as well, unsure how these very important meetings would go.

As they walked together through the front door of the factory, Wildfire had an unmistakeable feeling of walking through a mister, almost like popping through a very thin layer of cloud. She supposed, with a smile, that was just what had happened. Tempest, full of confidence in herself and her rank as commander of the first weather battalion, marched smartly up to the front desk of the entrance foyer. “Hello, is Bluefeather in?” she asked.

The sky blue stallion that was working at his computer behind the desk didn’t look up straightaway. “Do you…” he trailed off as he finally looked up, “have an appoint...M-Major Te-Tempest,” he stammered, for Tempest’s stormy reputation was well known and well founded, “is she expecting you?”

“Of course not,” Tempest replied, suppressing a snicker as the receptionist stallion’s tone changed in a heartbeat from indifference to respect when he realised just who she was, “where would the fun be in that?”

The pegasus stallion pointed a hesitant foreleg down the hall through the security doors to the left of his desk, “she uh, she is in her office, yes, Major.”

“Thank you,” Tempest beamed, “and you may warn her too. Come along, Wildfire.” As she turned to walk down the hall in the direction that the receptionist had indicated, it was at that point that he finally saw the little yellow mare next to the major. Thankfully her back was turned and she didn’t see the shudder he made at the blind mare’s scarred face.

“I'm coming!” Wildfire giggled brightly. She fell into step beside Tempest, her right wingtip not leaving her flank. “Do you ever have appointments, Honey?”

Tempest considered that for a few moments as she made her way down the long straight hallway. Dotted along the walls were framed photographs, employees of the month, notable weather patterns, even a wall of honour. To Tempest’s intense blush, her picture was on all three. “Sometimes it does make it easier or if I don't want them to go into hiding.” She said by way of reply. She did so hate ponies standing on ceremony.

“Bluefeather is the Weather Factory manager,” Tempest continued, secretly glad that Wildfire couldn’t see the photographs. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be honoured, more that she wanted the rest of her battalion honoured as well, not just her. “You’ll be working for the Manehatten fire department, but she will be the supervisor for the pony you will liaison with to get the needed clouds.”

“I gotcha...” Wildfire, her right wingtip still touching Tempest’s flank, was hanging on every word her herd-mate was saying. A thought entered her head though when Tempest said that. “Ooh...I bet this Bluefeather knows Cyclone!”

“I think you're right.” Tempest replied, her head cocked in thought. Just like Belle, she did rather like the young jet black pegasus mare. She had liked her since the first time she had spoken to her on the phone on the way back from Vanhoover. She had liked her even more when she had met her in Cloudsdale. She had been struck by how sexy she was. “We can ask. We need to find out who is managing clouds for the fire department anyways.”

Wildfire nodded solemnly, “Cy said she liaised with the other factories to co-ordinate winter.”

Tempest’s ears perked up, “Did Cy stay in town or head back to Cloudsdale?”

“She stayed at Caffeinated's place last night,” Wildfire answered quickly. That much she did know. She knew her nappy wearing friend had stayed the night in one of the big orange zebra’s many spare rooms. “She said something about exploring Manehatten today.”

“Okay,” Tempest said in consideration, for that bit of her between her legs was glad she was sticking around. “You think she will stay till Air Raid's big race on Sunday?”

“I'd have thought so, Stormy. It's a fair old way to come for just one night.”

“And she’s still unattached and does like mares?”

Wildfire smiled, she recognised that tone in Tempest’s voice. That gentle careful meddling tone that screamed there were ulterior motives in the air. Wildfire might be blind, but even she could see that Tempest, Mother Hen herself, was up to something. “Yup and yup...Honey, you're matchmaking, aren’t you?”

Tempest blushed, her violet cheeks turning an intense bright red, at being caught out so quickly and easily. “I’m not sure if she is single at the moment,” the weather pony answered, again thankful that Wildfire at least couldn’t see her blush. “But, I do know her likes. Bluefeather will play with Cy in both her states of being.”

“Aw!” Wildfire let out a very fillyish squee as she felt Tempest at last come to a halt outside what she guessed was an office door, “Cy'll love that!”

Outside Bluefeather’s office door, Tempest paused and collected herself. Always best to present a calm front, after all. Raising her hoof, she knocked once to announce her presence and, knowing that the factory manager had been warned by the receptionist, hoofed open the door. “Hello Stormy,” Bluefeather greeted her friend and colleague from behind her desk, “I’m sorry, but you'll have to wait till poker night to get your money back.”

“As if I ever will,” Tempest snorted out a laugh as she led Wildfire into the office to make the necessary introductions. “Bluefeather, I'd like to introduce you to Wildfire. Wildfire, the mare over there with the bad wing dye job runs this motley outpost.”

“Hey!” Wildfire, sniffing the air, caught the distinct scent of blueberry, and she immediately associated that scent with the manager’s broad Manehatten accent. She even gave her a little wave of her hoof as she stepped further into the office, wondering what Tempest meant by bad wing dye. “I’m Wildfire, but call me Wily, please.”

Behind her desk, which was cluttered with all sorts of paperwork, Bluefeather, a middle aged mid grey pegasus with a scruffy electric blue mane and tail, was caught staring at Wildfire with her jaw hanging open. So stunned was she that her green eyes were wide open and her primary feathers, which were as blue as her mane, were stuck out at odd angles. She tried to say something, anything, but after several attempts all she had done was impersonate a goldfish.

Tempest caught this wide eyed look and snickered behind her hoof. She supposed it was only to be expected, especially given Wildfire’s appearance. “Wily here came to have a look around to see what she could see about the place.”

“Huh? What?” Again, Bluefeather looked from Tempest to Wildfire and back again. The acid scars all over her face didn’t worry her too much, it was more of a surprise than anything. “How can you be so insensitive?”

Again, Tempest snickered, “Am I insensitive Wily?”

Wildfire laughed at that. “No love you aren't, not in the slightest.” She turned her attention back to the scent of blueberry in the air. “Bluefeather? Please can I have a look at you?”

“How?” Bluefeather asked incredulously.

Tempest simply giggled, “Oh, some more information,” she started as she looked around the office at the ‘love me’ wall full of Bluefeather’s qualifications and her past lovers. “Wily and Airy are getting married, so the last thing I need is to give Airy a reason to shoot me again.”

Bluefeather blinked once then twice. “What?”

Wildfire, her face all smiles, carefully followed the sound of Bluefeather's voice as well as her scent around her desk to stand roughly in front of the confused weather manager. “My visual range is limited to the length of my foreleg, I'm afraid. May I touch you, please?”

Again, Bluefeather blinked a few times, before realisation hit her and she smiled, feeling a teeny bit silly. “Oh, yes, of course you can.”

“Alrighty...here we go…” lifting up her forehooves, Wildfire felt for the strange new mare. A second later and she felt her hoof contact her chest. “Don't worry,” she smiled as she felt her way up to Bluefeather’s neck, “I have a soft touch.”

“You,” Bluefeather had to admit, as the tiny yellow mare’s got higher up to her jawline, she did. “You do.”

“Hmhmm...” Wildfire reached her face, and began feeling gently around Bluefeather’s cheeks and muzzle. In the process of building up a mental image, the blind mare could feel the older mare staring at her. She wasn’t upset, ponies always stared. She was used to it. “They used to be chestnut brown, in case you're wondering,” she said with a smile.

“I didn't mean to stare!” Bluefeather squeaked, Wildfire’s hooves at her jaw, “Oh...you caught me.”

“It's alright,” Wildfire smiled as she felt her way up and around the manager’s forehead. “Hmm, no horn, so you aren't the secret fifth alicorn...” she trailed off and giggled, “It can't be every day you get a mare as cute as me turn up, huh?”

Right then, Bluefeather lost it and her pent up nervousness all went in a fit of giggles that soon became a laugh that Wildfire and Tempest both joined in with. She knew right then that here was a mare she could have a laugh with and not worry about treading on eggshells. “I can see why Airy fell for you.”

“A sense of humour is essential!” Wildfire smiled, feeling up around Bluefeather’s ears. “The next answer, for five years, and I was nineteen at Canterlot University, it was acid in the face in a science class incident.”

“I'm, I'm sorry to hear that.” Bluefeather said as kindly as she could, though she was very grateful that the little yellow mare was making this all so very easy.

“Blue,” Tempest spoke up finally once Wildfire’s little inspection was completed, “Do you have time for lunch? We just flew in.”

“Sure, I can make time.”

Wildfire smiled, suddenly aware her belly was rumbling. “Thank you. Luckily I kept my stunning good looks. Even now I turn heads.”

Bluefeather looked Wildfire over with a critical green eye, as if appraising her again for the first time. She guessed, after the last few minutes, that this wasn’t a mare to underestimate. “So, there is more to you than meets the eye?”

“A little bit.” Wildfire replied, her smile firmly in place, “I'm a firefighter.”

“Wow,” was all Bluefeather could think of to say to that. Again, she made a mental note to definitely not underestimate this little mare. She must be good if Rung had hired her. “So, is that why you're wearing the ninja suit?” she asked, referring to the black flight suit with its sensors along her flanks.

“Keep this under your wing, but she’s one of the Power Ponies, code name Stealth Pony.”

Wildfire couldn’t believe Tempest had said that with such a straight face. “This bundle of awesome helps me fly without being a smear on a building, when I'm not helping save Maretropolis, of course.”

“Right,” Bluefeather blinked, “so lunch?”

“Yes,” Tempest and her belly agreed very quickly, “but we should invite one more, who would you suggest, Wily?”

Wildfire thought about that for a few seconds, though the noise from Tempest’s belly made it hard to concentrate. “Um...the pony that supervises cloud production for the fire team?”

“Fire team?” Bluefeather asked aloud, before she realised just whom Wildfire meant. “Oh! That would be Lancer. So you'll be ferrying clouds from here to the fire scene, Wild...Wily?”

“Yuppers, that's my main job, I reckon.”

Smiling, Bluefeather pushed some buttons on the intercom on her desk. “Lancer,” she said once the light turned from red to green, “report to my office for Lunch, I want to see if I've changed my mind about stallions.”

Tempest’s straight face devolved into a guffawed laugh, “Blue, you are a naughty mare.”

“Naughty mares are the best mares!” Wildfire put in her two bits worth.

Hearing that, Bluefeather knew she’d get along with this new pony just fine. She moved forward and nuzzled her cheek. “You got it, sister.”

“Speaking of which,” Wildfire said as she returned the weather manager’s nuzzle with one of her own, “I think we might have a mutual friend…”

“Calling Stormy my friend may be stretching things,” Bluefeather interrupted her while Tempest responded with a long, loud, raspberry.

“Oh I dunno,” Wildfire giggled, “she can't control chocolate drops though. No, I meant a black pegasus by the name of Cyclone.”

“Chocolate drops?” Bluefeather asked, her previous confusion momentarily resurfacing. That was, until Wildfire mentioned Cyclone’s name. “Wait, Cyclone…Cyclone…oh!” it only took a few seconds of thought and she knew who Cyclone was. “Admin over at Cloudsdale?” she asked, thinking of the very cute, very sexy mare with her turquoise mane.

Lancer, a buttercream yellow pegasus stallion with a fiery orange mane and tail entered his boss’s office, cutie mark of three lightning bolts proud on his flank. “Hi Stormy,” he greeted the violet mare with an easy smile, “It’s been awhile. Giving up on Airy?”

Tempest, by way of reply, rolled her blue eyes at the newcomer. “Okay, you're a colour scheme I can't forget.” Especially as he reminded her very much of Silverbolt. “Didn’t you work storm cloud production?” she asked, racking her brains to remember the stallion.

“Still do,” Lancer said with a proud bow.

“This is about your additional duty,” Bluefeather said, drawing his attention to her.

“Oh, fire suppression?” Lancer asked, to which Bluefeather nodded yes.

“Hey Lancer,” Wildfire spoke up, feeling a teeny bit ignored at the moment, though she supposed it was because she was that small. “I'm Wildfire, with the fire team.” Her own introduction made, she turned to face the heady scent of blueberry that was Bluefeather. “Yuppers Bluefeather, Cyclone's like, head of winter at Cloudsdale.”

“Oh, you're working for Rung and Cloud Burst and...” Lancer trailed off when he finally saw Wildfire. His shocked reaction mirrored his manager’s. “Woah, what happened to your eyes?”

“I lost them in a game of poker,” Wildfire sniggered, wholly not bothered in the slightest by Lancer’s reaction. After all, she’d experienced worse. A lot worse. “So, can I feel you up?”

Mentally, Lancer kicked himself thoroughly in the ass for his thoughtless remark. “Okay, sorry, that was stupid question.” The looks he was getting from Tempest didn’t help either. He was aware of her tempestuous temper, and he was thankful that she was letting Wildfire deal with it. “So, you want to touch me to know me, that's okay, we'll be working together.”

“By the way,” Tempest added, “she’s marring Airy.”

“Yes,” Lancer quickly amended himself, “professional relationship. Got it.”

Just as she had done with Bluefeather, Wildfire began to slowly and carefully feel Lancer’s face, gradually building up a picture in her mind of how the stallion looked. “It was an acid attack at university five years ago.” she explained as she went along.

“Manehatten U?”

“Sorry, Lancer, Canterlot.”

Lancer nodded at that while Wildfire reached up and felt around his ears and his mane. “So you're from Canterlot. They have a real state of the art weather factory over there…” he trailed off, suddenly very aware of Bluefeather’s green eyes burning into his very soul. “Ah, not that you don't run a good cloud, boss!”

Bluefeather smirked, “keep digging Lance and you'll run out of cloud.”

“You said you're buying me lunch?” Lancer said, trying desperately to change the subject to something that would stop his boss looking at him like that.

“No,” Bluefeather corrected, “Stormy is buying us lunch.”

Lancer liked the sound of that. “Good, then I don't have to use the bit menu!”

Wildfire shrugged her little shoulders. “I’m afraid I don't know much about the Canterlot weather factory, only that my mum used to work there.”

Lancer was getting into his stride, talking shop. “I really don't know anyone there. I got a tour after getting my cutie mark. That was nineteen years ago, but I keep up with things with my issues of Weathertronixs Journal.”

Wildfire’s ears perked up, it seemed like something she should read. “Is it interesting?”

Bluefeather rolled her eyes, sensing as Tempest did a lost soul already. “It’s so dry I fear the magazine will catch fire.” She deadpanned unenthusiastically.

Lancer chuckled, “that’s why we don't let you in the storm room, boss.”

Wildfire however was too interested in the weather magazine. “Do they do the journal in braille?”

Lancer shrugged, “Uh, I don't know.”

“I might check it out.”

“I'm sure you'll like it!” Lancer enthused, much to the eye-rolling displeasure of Tempest and Bluefeather. “All the very latest on weather production, and cool gadgets that you can...”

“Lunch.” Bluefeather said in a manner that stated it wasn’t up for debate. “And if you make me fall asleep in the soup with your tech talk you'll be buying donuts for the rest of the month. Both of you.”

Wildfire turned her face from Lancer to Bluefeather. “Are you two always like this?”

“No,” Bluefeather smiled sweetly, “sometimes we fight.”

“Usually on poker night.” Lancer laughed as he led the way out of Bluefeather’s office and down three halls to the well-stocked cafeteria.

Wildfire laughed as she followed Tempest, again with her wingtip on her flank. “Just like an old married couple.”

Bluefeather shrugged, though she did take careful note of how well Wildfire coped and managed, despite her obvious disability. “Makes work easier and speeds the day by. Hope you have deep saddle bags Stormy.”

Tempest rolled her eyes, “I think I can manage, Blue, the cafeteria isn't the Canterlot Ritz.”

“Do you read braille, Wildfire?” Lancer asked curiously once they were all seated around a table for six in a corner of the cafeteria nearest the door and the food counter.

“Yuppers,” Wildfire replied, sliding easily onto her seating pad next to Tempest by the window, “I read it and write poems in it, Lancer.”

“Cool,” Lancer said, actually genuinely interested, “wingtip or hooftip?”

“I was taught by an earth pony,” Wildfire replied, thinking very much of Eirene right then, and wondering what the nurse was doing now, “I use the frogs of my hooves.”

“Okay, I may need to check in on that,” Lancer made a mental note to do just that, while Tempest and his boss both sat with them at the table. “So, will you be using Cloud Burst's office here?”

Wildfire shrugged, she wasn’t clear on that, if she was honest. She wasn’t aware she’d have an office at all, until lancer mentioned it just then. “I'm not sure, I'm going to be fetching clouds for the fire team, mostly.”

“I gathered that,” Lancer commented, “Cloud Burst does the coordination for that and has an office, but he is very seldom here. I guess we'll wait and see.”

“That does make a great deal of sense though,” Bluefeather shared a nod with Lancer and with Tempest. “If you're here on site, you can get the needed clouds out that much faster…” she paused then, when her belly issued a loud rumble. “Now, time to pick your poison.”

Looking over at the food counter, Lancer had another thought, regarding Wildfire and the food. “The food labels are above the food and hard to reach with a hoof.”

“They’re not in braille anyways,” Bluefeather put in, “I can have them put braille labels on the tray ledge, it’s no trouble.”

Tempest couldn’t help but giggle, “They label it so that even the sighted will know what it is!”

“Yeah,” Lancer chuckled, “gotta love factory cafeteria food.”

Minutes later, when the four ponies had got up and walked over to the food counters, they were once more seated back around the table by the window. The view overlooking Manehatten city really was spectacular. Tempest had chosen pepper and tomato hash, daisy and watercress and mashed turnip for the sides. She also went for the cheesy rolls. Just to fill her up. To be different, Wildfire opted for a fruit and grain medley with just the daisy and watercress side. Like Tempest though she went with two cheesy rolls.

Bluefeather and Lancer both went for the hash like Tempest, though only Lancer had a side, being the mashed turnip. Both of them however filled up on several cheesy rolls. “Coffee for you?” Tempest asked Wildfire once they were all seated, as she had the tray with the drinks for them all on it. Wildfire nodded eagerly and took her black coffee, while Tempest wrinkled her nose at the offering. “Sweet Celestia I need cream and sugar for this muck…”

Both Lancer and Bluefeather laughed out loud at that, and, reaching for her own coffee, Wildfire took a sip and gagged. “Eeurrgh! Y-Yuppers…that's just like school coffee. Awful.” Still, it made her feel warm and fuzzy, strangely, that all cafeteria coffee was rank.

Taking a bite of his pepper and tomato hash, Lancer said, “What made you choose Manehatten over Cloudsdale, Wildfire?”

“Well,” Wildfire replied, swallowing a mouthful of her fruit and grain mix, “it wasn't much of a choice really. My friend had a job to do here and he brought me with him.” She decided to gloss over the details of the care home, Dusk, and everything else that had happened to her. “I met Airy at Stripe’s Coffee Shop and here I am.”

“Yeah,” Bluefeather mused, swilling her coffee, “I can't see Airy moving to the Canterlot area.”

“She would have, if that was Wily's desire,” Tempest put in before shovelling a forkful of her hash into her mouth.

“So, you prefer Wily over Wildfire?” Lancer asked.

“Oh, Wily, please Lancer, unless I’ve been really naughty.” Wildfire replied with a wide smile, she pictured just how naughty she could be, and the pleasurable spankings she got as a reward for her naughtiness. “And I wouldn't live in Canterlot again anyway, even if you paid me.”

Lancer considered that, but Tempest’s warning expression convinced him not to pursue the subject any further. “I'm good with Lance also, since we’ll be working together.” He paused and ate some more of his pepper and tomato hash lunch as a more interesting thought occurred to the buttercream yellow stallion. “How about the full story behind that gear you're wearing?”

As Wildfire ate some of her daisy and watercress side dish, Wildfire began to tell her new co-workers the story of the Kupanbana’s and the zebra owned ex-military hardware shop in downtown Manehatten and her many practices, as well as the shopping trip to get it. Both Lancer and Bluefeather were a very good audience, looking to Tempest to verify some of the more outlandish elements, like Luna whipping Octavia in the fountain with a sock.

“So, you will need way points,” Lancer commented when Wildfire had finished her tale, “Do you have beacons?”

Wildfire nodded. “I have a few spare.”

“Think we can get permission for one at the employee’s entrance, Blue?” Lancer asked his manager with a chuckle in his voice.

Bluefeather took a long moment to finish off her lunch and her coffee before she answered. “Well, I'd have to talk to me to see if I'll approve it. I think I will.”

Wildfire sniggered, “you never know, you might turn yourself down?” she asked with a smirk plastered all over her face before reaching down and taking the last of her fruit and grain medley in her hoof. She had enjoyed it, and she made a mental note to order it again when she worked here properly.

“I'm guessing you don't know your work hours yet either?” Lancer asked, guessing the answer already.

Wildfire shook her head. “Not as such, no, but I start on Monday morning.”

“Let me give you my contact details,” Lancer said as he reached for his cell phone. “Cloud Burst has them also. Now that my belly if full of lead, I can take you to Burst's office, give you a little tour.”

Bluefeather caught Tempest’s very meaningful look and nodded. “You two run along while Stormy and I talk about grown up things.”

“Okay, boss, okay!” Lancer laughed as both Bluefeather and Tempest made little shooing motions with their hooves.

“Have fun, Honey!” Wildfire called over her shoulder as Lancer led the diminutive blind mare out of the cafeteria. Her yellow wing was draped on his flank like it had been with Tempest on the way here.

Bluefeather’s green eyes were alive with mirth. “She call you that because of your sting?” she asked, more than well aware of Tempest’s violent temper once she was roused to it. Granted it took a pony a long time to reach that point, but once they had, Celestia help them, because no other pony could.

“No,” Tempest smiled sweetly, draining the last of her cream filled coffee, “it’s because I'm the second sweetest mare she knows.”

“Have you worked here long then, Lance?” Wildfire asked curiously as she was led down the hallway from the cafeteria and down a right turn into yet another hallway. On the way she had to giggle, she felt like the ancient earth pony Theseus in the labyrinth guarded by the minotaur.

“Since I was a colt doing mop duty,” Lancer replied with a very nostalgic smile over his face that went a long way to his voice. “Long line of weather ponies in my family.”

Wildfire smiled at that. The mention of weather pony put her in mind of her mother. Plus it gave them something of a common ground to talk on. “My mum was a weather pony, in Canterlot.”

“Was that your plan, before you were blinded?”

“Nah,” Wildfire shook her head, somewhat proudly. “I always wanted to be a firefighter. I was on the reserves for the Canterlot Residential District fire team while I was still at Uni.”

“Dangerous job,” Lancer commented as he took a left down yet another hallway. “But it needs to be done, for sure. I don't think I could do what Cloud Burst does.”

“It's funny,” Wildfire commented, trying to map in her mind where they were going. Wherever it was, she guessed it was to the outside, as the air was starting to smell fresher. “I never thought of it as dangerous until the time my partner died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lancer said, seeing the open exit coming up not far away. “I want to die in my bed surrounded by all my loved ones.”

“It was fun!” Wildfire protested, “Flying through burning buildings, saving the day, being all heroic and stuff. It was an adventure. Then Heatwave died, the day I got my cutie mark. Then I grew up.”

“Did Heatwave die in the building fire?”

Suddenly, Wildfire stopped moving. She stood perfectly still in the hallway. Pictures of Heatwave appeared in her mind’s eye, her old partner. “No...No, he died after. There was a family of earth ponies trapped on the third floor of a building. I disobeyed my captain's orders and went in for them. Heatwave followed me in. We saved them. He died of heart failure down on the ground.”

Lancer considered that for a moment before turning and giving Wildfire a tight hug. “Well, that would be my second choice on the way to go. Doing what I love surrounded by those that care.” He nuzzled her cheek before turning back and leading her outside the factory onto the cloud. “This is the employee entrance.”

Once Wildfire was outside, she appreciated just how big the Manehatten Weather Factory was. I was huge. Bigger than huge. Lancer’s voice in front of her shook her from this brief reverie however. “There’s a key card reader to the right of the door. You'll get that when you in process on Monday. When you bring a beacon, we can mount it to the right of the reader.”

“I've got one in my bag,” Wildfire said, thinking of the spare she always carried, just in case.

Lancer was impressed. This little mare was certainly prepared. He liked that. “I can take if off your hooves and have it mounted here at the employee entrance sometime Monday morning.” Straightaway, Wildfire fished the beacon out of her saddlebag and passed it over to Lancer.

Once he had the beacon from Wildfire, the buttercream yellow stallion used his key card, swiping it through the reader to re-enter the factory. “You just press your key card, no code needed.”

“That's alright then,” Wildfire giggled as she followed Lancer back inside where they had just emerged from. “I already have eight beacons to remember, amongst other things.”

“Like this short tour,” Lancer added over his shoulder. He did feel for the little mare, but he was sure she could cope. “First door on the right is the employee break room. There you’ll find the fridge, Microwave and some tables. Left, is the employee locker room. Beyond the locker room is a small gym and showers. Next to that and three doors on the right are shift supervisors, they share an office for each branch. Inclement weather, crop rain, and cloud cover.”

Lancer, having taken a little break in the tour to allow Wildfire to catch up so that she knew where she was and not overloaded, carried on with the tour. “Next door on the right is the Weather management supervisor. To the left is weather planning.”

“I gotcha,” Wildfire said confidently, “did you say I had an office?”

“Yes,” Lancer smiled at her eagerness, “The next door on the right is Fire Suppression which is Cloud Burst's office, but it would be the one you use, and on the left there is City Liaison. That is my office.”

“It's so cool, I have an office!” Wildfire clapped her hooves and was so happy she even broke into a happy little four hooved dance in the hallway. “I have an office! My mum'd be well proud!”

Unperturbed by Wildfire’s impromptu dance routine, Lancer continued, “Next office on the right is quality control and on the left is Bluefeather's. After that is the reception foyer.” Once his little tour was completed, Lancer went back and opened the door to Wildfire’s brand new office. “Look around so you know where stuff is. Do you have sight impaired software?”

“I do indeed!” Wildfire squee’d in utter delight as she started to investigate her new office.

“You'll need it for here,” Lancer said as he watched the little yellow pegasus investigate every little nook and cranny of the office. His smile grew wider when she reached the desk. She seemed utterly enamoured of the simple piece of furniture. “I don't know if the fire department will reimburse you or not, though.”

“I've got this tablet that's just amazing, and this headset…” Wildfire trailed off as she explored her office, thoughts of what Lancer was saying left her mind as far, far more important things became apparent. “There’s a filing cabinet and a desk!” she let out a very excited squee, “I have a desk!”

“Desks,” Lancer laughed out loud, unable to contain himself any longer, “the gift to fat bottomed ponies everywhere.”

“But this is mine!” Wildfire buzzed her wings and hovered in sheer joy, “I get to sit and do officey things! In my office!”

Lancer’s laugh showed no sign of abating any time soon, “At least when you're not putting out fires.”

“Sometimes you're putting out fires in the office.” Bluefeather commented from the open doorway while Tempest burst out into a little fit of giggles.

“You excited, Wily?” Tempest asked with a smile on her face at her little lover’s antics. Wildfire didn’t seem to give much of a damn that the office was coloured a particular shade of puce green, she was clearly very excited.

Again, indescribably excited, Wildfire squee’d. This time she even did a little happy bounce. “A desk! Look Honey! This is my desk, look!”

Tempest grinned, “You’re going to make me jealous with your fancy desk.”

Wildfire was in full flow now. “It’s gonna have my name on it just here,” she pointed to what she imagined was the middle of the desk. “A picture of you and Airy will go just there,” she carried on, actually pointing now to the air, missing the desk completely.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Tempest was genuinely very touched by her diminutive lover’s youthful enthusiasm, she imagined this had been a dream of hers for quite some time. “But, my eager little pony, will you get any work done mooning over Airy?”

“Of course I will silly,” Wildfire replied. She didn’t care that she hadn’t asked the colours of her new office, all she cared about was that it was hers. It was hers and hers alone. She had an office! She felt so grown up! “I'll just moon over her in my break times, of course!”

Bluefeather chuckled. She couldn’t help but feel young when next to this excited little pegasus. It was like she was infectious with her energy. Like a literal wildfire. “It must be good to work for the city.”

“I bet it is, although it's good to work at all…” Wildfire beamed out a happy smile, “Oh hey Bluefeather, did Stormy tell you about Cyclone?”

Bluefeather nodded at that, taking a little sit down on the as yet undiscovered couch in Wildfire’s new office. “She told me about last night, all of last night, which included the Weather Management Supervisor from Cloudsdale.”

Tempest picked up immediately on the slight breathlessness in Bluefeather’s voice and decided some first class teasing was in order. “Then she made me mop the floor,” the violet mare added, nudging the grey mare in the ribs.

“Hush you.” Bluefeather snickered, though she playfully rolled her eyes.

Wildfire, how had by now discovered the seating pad behind her desk and sat on it looking like all her Hearths Warmings had come at once, giggled. “Was it a case of clean up on aisle mare?”

Lancer burst out laughing, holding his sides with his forelegs. “I see you'll fit right in here, Wily.”

“I try my best Lance,” Wildfire said, barely containing herself as the realisation that she was sitting on a seating pad. In her office. A pad, that was hers, in an office, that was hers! “Bluefeather, was it the nappies or the Power Pony plushies that caused the 'wet floor' signs to appear on aisle mare?”

Lancer snorted out a laugh that he just couldn’t hold in, “W-What?”

“Cy just loves wearing them,” Wildfire smiled, oblivious to Bluefeather’s and Tempest’s looks they shared between themselves. “Almost as much as she loves playing the foal.”

“Wait,” Lancer at last caught the looks between Bluefeather and Tempest. Immediately his laughing ceased. “You're being serious.”

“As serious as I'm sitting here Lance.” An oblivious Wildfire beamed, making Tempest want to facehoof over and over. “Cy won't mind me telling you, either.”

Lancer looked at Bluefeather who, rather reluctantly, nodded in turn. “Yes Lance,” she admitted, “I'm into that, and I'd ask that it stops here and go no further, for the both of you.” She added, a very serious sounding tone in her voice.

“I um, I totally understand, Bluefeather.” Wildfire said very quickly, only now just aware she may have said too much. “I swear nopony here will hear about it from me. Not everypony has Cy's confidence with it, Tartarus she wore one on the train from Cloudsdale to Manehatten!”

Bluefeather shook her head, her electric blue mane tussling about her shoulders. It was impossible to be angry with this little ball of enthusiasm. “I do try to separate some of my private life from my office life.”

“No big deal Blue,” Lancer held up his buttercream yellow hooves, “just…well...”

“Seems different from what you thought?” Tempest offered helpfully. She of course knew all about her friend’s tastes. In fact she had been thinking in the back of her mind about Bluefeather ever since she had met Cyclone back in Cloudsdale.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want her number?” Wildfire asked, in an attempt to make up for her perceived blunder.

Bluefeather only thought about it for a second before nodding her head. “Actually, Wily, yes I would.”

“Alrighty,” with that, Wildfire dug her forehoof in her saddlebag, fishing for her cell phone. It only took her a moment of swiping through the menus with her wingtip for her to find her old friend’s number. “There you go, I’ve got it.”

Bluefeather licked her lips in anticipation, but not before she turned to Lancer with a nod of her head. “Thank you Lance, for the introductory tour.”

“No problem.” Lancer saw when he was being dismissed, and took the hint. Grinning, he glanced at the beacon he still held and knew how he could make himself useful. “I'll go and take care of the beacon. See you later Wily.” That said, he bowed out of his soon-to-be colleague’s office and trotted across the hallway to his own.

“That’s my fault,” Tempest said apologetically as she closed the door behind Lancer’s orange tail. “Sorry Blue, I told her about your little fetish.”

“Hey, I'm uh, I’m sorry if I stepped on your hooves or anything, Bluefeather.” Wildfire said from her desk, a good portion of her enthusiasm leeching out of her.

Bluefeather couldn’t help but feel a little bad for the little yellow mare. “The gossip rags are always looking for something,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders, trying to play it down. “I trust Lance and I don't think anypony else heard you. Stormy filled me in about last night, but she really didn't know a lot about Cyclone. She’s the black Pegasus with green hair?”

“Yuppers!” Wildfire beamed, picking up on the happier tone in Bluefeather’s voice. “She's the one!”

“I saw her at the last weather conference in Trottingham…” Bluefeather tapped her chin, trying to rack her brains to remember anything at all about the very cute young pegasus. All she could come up with was ‘cute’, ‘young’, ‘sexy’ and ‘black’. “My counterpart in Cloudsdale is Misty Morning, but Cyclone was his assistant.” Try as she might, she couldn’t think of anything else about her, “Dayglow is my assistant. You haven't met her yet.”

Wildfire too was trawling her brains for anything about Cyclone that she could add. “The way Cy described it last night, she was 'Mare-in-charge-of-Winter',” she giggled, “and when they were hoofing out confidence Cy skipped the queue and took everypony's share for herself.”

“Winter?” Bluefeather asked, her eyebrow raised.

“Yuppers,” Wildfire replied, “she organises Cloudsdale's Winter, and co-ordinates Winter with the other factories around Equestria.”

Now Bluefeather understood. “Oh, okay, she was the Weather Management Supervisor when I met her.” Again, she tapped her chin, now trying to work out what could’ve gone wrong for her. “I wonder what happened that she would be doing inclement weather now instead.”

“Oh, I’m afraid I don't know, Bluefeather,” Wildfire admitted with a hint of a blush on her cheeks. “You see, we're friends, but we haven't had much contact these last few years.”

A look from Tempest spoke volumes. “Oh, okay, when did she tell you she was in charge of winter?”

“Last night at the party.” Wildfire answered, “That was the first time I've seen her in five years.”

“Okay, I won't ask about it then,” Bluefeather determined, “It may be a touchy subject. Is ah, is she currently single, do you know?”

Wildfire grinned, “It's okay, you can ask as much as you want. I have no secrets and I'm not ashamed of what happened.” She hadn’t realised that wasn’t what Bluefeather had meant when she had asked her question. “And yes, Cy likes mares and she’s very single.”

“Wily,” Tempest said gently, “she was talking about Cy's secrets. No need to prod why she was demoted, is what she meant.”

“Oh...ooooh right…” Wildfire giggled in an attempt to cover her newest blush. “I’m sorry, I'm sure she'll tell you if you ask.”

“She may have been acting supervisor at the conference,” Bluefeather mused as she looked at the phone number in her hooves, turning the scrap of paper over and over, “I didn't say much more than 'hello' to her.”

“I do know she's staying in Manehatten for a few days though,” Wildfire offered as, like Tempest, she was trying her best to set Cyclone up with a special somepony.

Bluefeather shared a glance at Tempest. “Stormy said she is staying at Caffeinated's house,” she said, to which Tempest nodded yes.

“Yuppers,” Wildfire confirmed that, “at least until this Sunday coming.”

Turning the scrap of paper containing Cyclone’s cell phone number over in her hooves, Bluefeather smiled, many possibilities running through her head like a herd of ponies running the leaves. “I have a nice playpen and a crib at my place. I’ll have to see if she wants to change her plans for Saturday.”

Tempest nudged her old friend in the ribs. “Or, you could see if she wants to change her plans for tonight?” she asked with a very suggestive look on her face.

“Out of the blue?” Bluefeather asked, suddenly taking a step backwards, “No, it’d be best if I have some pony give an intro, like you two.”

Tempest grinned as she trotted over to Wildfire’s desk and licked her little lover’s ear. “Wily, why don’t you call Cy now and do the introduction?”

“Eeek…” Wildfire squeaked as her ear was licked, “Y-You got it, Honey!” excited, she reached for her phone that was resting on her desk by her left hoof and, after a couple of swipes with her wingtip, dialled Cyclone’s number.

On the other end of the line, at Caffeinated’s ranch, it took Cyclone several rings before she answered the call. Romper suits didn’t do hooves any favours with touch screens. “Y'ello, Wily?”

“Hey Cy,” Wildfire greeted her friend with a smile. Even after catching up with her before and during the gaming night last night, it still felt…odd, hearing her voice after five long years of being apart. “So…whatcha doing?”

“Oh, not much,” the jet black pegasus answered truthfully. She wasn’t really. Dressed in her bright, eye wateringly bright pink romper suit, she was currently secreted in a pillow fort that Thespian had helped her to build, with her Radiance plushie under her right wing. “I’m watching cartoons in the great room, I’ve got me a clean nappy, a full bottle and my plushies.” As far as Cyclone was concerned, life was good.

Wildfire snickered, and as she had her phone on speaker, as was her custom, she heard Tempest and Bluefeather do the same. “I'm at the Manehatten weather factory with a grey mare called Bluefeather.”

“Ooh I remember her,” Cyclone replied, shifting a little inside her hoof-crafted pillow fort, “She’s a cute mare,” since Wildfire had her phone on speaker, Bluefeather and Tempest both giggled at that, especially Bluefeather who wore an impressive blush.

“Tempest and I are talking to her now,” Wildfire grinned, “It turns out she likes the same thing you do.”

“Power Ponies?” Cyclone asked as she took a quick suckle of the formula foal milk in her bottle. She was suitably skilled with her romper suited hooves to hold the bottle and the phone.

Carefully, Wildfire facehooved. And ponies thought she was oblivious! “Ugh…no you plum, I mean nappies!”

“Oooh…”

Chuckling, Bluefeather decided a slightly more ‘direct’ approach was called for. She stepped closer to Wildfire’s desk and nearer to the innocuous looking cell phone resting upon it. For added effect, the grey pegasus affected her best ‘matronly’ voice, just to get the point across. “Cyclone, I like to take care of foals and I have a lovely playpen and crib for the foals I take care of.”

That did it. That was enough for Cyclone, whose wings were having a hard time staying by her sides inside the fort. “I'm single and I have no plans for the immediate future.” She didn’t need to hear anything else. It had been such a long time since she’d had a proper nana, no offense to Air Raid, but since their split as a couple four years ago, the experience hadn’t been the same.

Bluefeather smiled, knowing full well she had the jet black pegasus at the word ‘foal’. “I live her in Cloudhatten, but I can meet you at a place of your choosing.”

Buried deep in her very comfortable pillow fort, with the Friday morning cartoons for the moment forgotten, Cyclone thought that was a good idea. She knew just the place. “I'm cool meeting up at Caffeinated's coffee shop, then going on to your place.”

Bluefeather checked her watch and saw it was eleven a.m. “How about four o'clock?” she asked, “If it works out we can do dinner and then I can read you a bedtime story.”

“You had me at four o'clock, Blue.”

Bluefeather’s blue tinted grey wings fluttered with excitement, and it was a concerted effort to maintain her motherly tone of voice. “Be a good foal and be on time, then.”

“Y-You got it!”

“You're gonna go start getting ready now, right?” Wildfire asked with a massive grin plastered all over her face as she heard Bluefeather step away from the phone. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she fancied that there was a spring in her step that wasn’t there before.

“Yep!” Cyclone squealed in sheer delight, knocking over her pillow fort as she burst from its depths. “A four hour scented bubble bath, just me and my plushies!”