In the Gardens [Octavia, Fleetfoot]

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The gardens of Rose, Lily, and Daisy were the equal of anything in Canterlot, Fleet told herself as she stared at her reflection in a pool of waterlilies. A quiet, and completely private place, it had been chosen as the stage for her blind date. Apparently, someone had made arrangements with some unicorns and pegasai to present the place at its absolute height of beauty and comfortable climate, at least for today. The sun was shining, flowers were blooming everywhere, the temperature was warm, and there was absolutely no reason at all to be nervous. None at all.

The Wonderbolt stretched her wings and folded them more tightly against her sides, lest their trembling give her away. This is ridiculous, She told herself. You're in uniform, the mare you're about to meet is going to expect you to be confident and in control. She's going to expect a Wonderbolt, not some shy violet. Get it together, Fleet! For the one-hundredth time, she checked the small box she'd bought and brought along. Inside was a single blush rose with two fresh fern leaves. Nothing too fancy, nothing to simple. Just right. At least, she hoped so.

Studying her reflection in the imperfect surface of the pond, Fleet considered the possibility she might just be stood up. Part of her would be- oh, so relieved. And yet, the other part of her would be.... strangely disappointed. Would she show? Would she not? Was she running late? How long should Fleetfoot wait? She glanced around anxiously. Why weren't there any clocks in here?

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Octavia stood nervously outside the entrance to the place written on the slip of paper she'd brought with her. Why she was here, she really had no idea. She'd just been walking along, seen an advertisement for signups for a blind date, and signed up, on the spot. There was no thinking about it. At the time, she didn't even think "This makes no sense." She simply did what she'd done and off she'd gone, thinking nothing of it until about 3 hours later. At that point, it was too late to withdraw her name. What concerned her most, however, was the ease with which she'd decided to check the box labeled "Both". She'd always seen herself as straight as an arrow, but now she'd agreed subconsciously to possibly go on a date with a mare?

Something strange was happening inside of her head, and she didn't know what it was.

"I'd be nervous, too."

Octavia blinked. A passerby stallion had stopped and started talking to her. "Hunh?" Was all she managed to get out.

"On a date? With HER, of all ponies?" He whistled, chuckled, wished her good luck, and trotted away.

And now she was even MORE nervous. She shifted her hooves, kicking around some dirt. She could leave, right now. Never think about this day again. Never know who was standing on the other side of that hedgerow. Never even know the gender. Oh, who was she kidding....it would kill her not to know. And anyway, she'd gone through all the trouble of putting on this stupid dress, she might just as well, right?

Every step seemed longer than the last. Despite the primary urge driving her being sheer curiosity about who'd been matched with her, as she entered the enclosed garden, her eyes refused to open. It took all of her willpower to force her eyelids apart.


.....No.

No, it couldn't be.

....It was. Fleetfoot. THE Fleetfoot, was staring into a small pond. Oh, Celestia, she'd been matched with Fleetfoot. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she repeated in her head the mantra she'd been practicing at home, about how she looked absolutely stunning. Something out of a book, or something. Truthfully, she'd been surprised how well she'd managed to put everything together. She wore a simple black dress, split just enough down the sides to allow her to walk. In fact, it was actually designed to allow her to sit and play comfortably. Still, she always loved the simplicity of it, and decided that it would be her best bet considering she'd had no idea who she might be meeting here. Now, however, she felt both underdressed, as her date was an actual celebrity, and overdressed, as her date was in a Wonderbolts uniform. Well....no time to worry about it now, Octavia. Let's just go for it....

"A-hem." She softly cleared her throat. "A-are you here for the....er...the blind date?" There was half a chance she'd met the wrong pony, right? Though if she hadn't, she'd entirely flubbed her first chance at making a good impression.

Good work. Here you go again, tripping over your own words...

Wonderful.

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She wasn't coming. She really wasn't going to show. Fleetfoot decided that she wasn't too disappointed. Really, it had been a silly idea, after all. She could take a walk around the gardens on her own, eat the lunch provided, then she would go home and sleep for three days straight to make up for this. And was funny, really, because her blind date would never know...

Someone beside her cleared her throat. Fleet started.

"A-are you here for the....er...the blind date?"

Oh, sweet Luna, she hadn't been stood up, after all. Fleetfoot blessed the designer of the Wonderbolts uniform from the bottom of her heart at that moment, for she was sure she was turning red up to the tips of her ears. That, of course, would show, but it might not be noticeable. C'mon, Fleetfoot! Recover! She looks nervous too. Don't let her down. With an effort, the Wonderbolt swallowed hard, nodded, and then spoke. "In the feathers, ...and at your service. And so, you are... Octavia." The steely blue eyes were anything but hard as they looked her date over. She's dressed so elegantly, Fleetfoot noted, approvingly. That reminded her.

"Oh!"

Fleet picked up the box with the rose and ferns and presented it to Octavia. "Here, this is... for you. I hope... I mean, I had to guess what to get, So I hope you like it." The small arrangement was meant to be pinned to one's dress, or tucked into the hair or behind an ear, and Fleet was relieved that it seemed to her, at least, to suit the lovely Octavia. Which also reminded her.

"You look really wonderful." Fleet told her honestly, and shyly. "I... I hope you don't mind too much that I'm not dressed so nice. I, um, I found myself in an awkward position. If I wear my uniform, I tend to draw a lot of attention and reporters, out of the woodwork, it seems. But if I didn't wear it, then I was afraid you might be disappointed...if you're a fan." That was all very true, if not the complete and honest truth. There was no way she could possibly add that she would have been too afraid to show up without it.

"So," Fleet continued, feeling just confident enough to try a little joke, "Now that you've seen how completely arrogant and vain your blind date for today is, are you ready to push her into the pond here?"

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"Y-yes. I'm Octavia."

This was surreal. Everything about this was surreal. She was on a date, for one thing. For another, it was a blind date. With a mare. A celebrity mare. A Wonderbolt of all celebrities. Fleetfoot, of all Wonderbolts. Who was complimenting her on her looks. She was on a date with a Wonderbolt, Fleetfoot, who had just told her she looked wonderful. Really wonderful, no less. She fought off the blush. She was a little startstuck, but she refused to be that mare that just froze in place.

Come on, Octavia...pull yourself together! She thought to herself. Think of something relaxing. Smooth Jazz. ....No! Not THAT smooth! She fought down an even brighter blush, and settled on something a little more lively. Still jazz though. It relaxed her and made her feel cooler, more confident. Still, she must have been standing there quietly for entirely too long. When her gift was presented to her, she paused and looked it over. It was simple, but it had a beauty that she immediately adored. She took it carefully and, after a bit of maneuvering, managed to pin it in her hair behind her ear.

She smiled. The internal music was really helping her relax. Unfortunately, she'd begun to lose focus.

"So, Now that you've seen how completely arrogant and vain your blind date for today is, are you ready to push her into the pond here?"

Still somewhat focused on her new charm, she nodded. "Of course."

......

The record scratched to a halt in her head. "W-wait, I-I mean no! Of course not!" And there went her cool, out the window like her ability to think of a proper simile. "No! It's..." She paused for a few moments and took a deep breath. "I don't think you're arrogant at all. And I don't mind that you're wearing that. It's rather iconic...You look great in it." She took a moment to look the Wonderbolt over. Subtly, of course. What bits of her nose and ears she could see looked slightly redder than she'd imagined. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light, or it might just be that the Wonderbolt looked different up close, but she still imagined that Fleetfoot was just as nervous as she was, which calmed her mind. She didn't actually believe it, of course. but it made things a little easier.

"Oh! Yes, how could I forget?" She reached back and produced her own small box, offering it forward. "It's...it's not quite as pretty as yours, but....I didn't know what to get, so I just chose something that felt....well, that felt the most me." She opened the small package, revealing a pin of her own. It was a small cello, complete with strings made of a tightly pulled metal thread. They could be plucked, though the sound was terrible, off key, and high pitched. "I feel kind of silly, now, giving you something so close to what you gave me, and so much more....specific."

Looking back at it, it was probably not the best idea for a pony she didn't know. The flower was so much more general, and it looked so much prettier than the small piece of finished wood.

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"Of course."

Fleet was more than a little thrown off by the answer she received! Torn between real and nervous laughter, she glanced quickly and anxiously at her date for reassurance. And... was given that assurance, fivefold. Octavia seemed just as shocked as the Wonderbolt herself had been at her reply, and stumbled over her words in an effort to correct herself. Fleet giggled a little, unable to help herself, but it wasn't mean laughter. Well. Octavia didn't seem to mind about the uniform. She really didn't. Fleet felt herself relax a bit. She even said it looked good. Plus five to confidence!

When Octavia presented Fleet with a pin of her own, Fleet admired it, despite the cellist's self-deprecating of her choice. With a smile, Fleet took it up and admired the exquisite perfection of the the tiny instrument before pinning it on her uniform, between her left shoulder and the base of her neck. "I like it," Fleet admitted, honestly. "It feels much more personal, much more memorable. I wish I'd thought of something like that. A keepsake to remember today, and you, by." Feeling that she had said something rather embarrassing, the pegasus scuffed the ground shyly.

"Well, ah..." She said after a moment. "I was told they- the people planning this event... were preparing a picnic lunch for us in the rose garden, but I suppose it probably isn't ready yet. Let's have a stroll around these lily ponds and a peek into the daisy beds while we wait."

Ooh. Maybe Fleet should have asked her if she wanted to, rather than making it a sort of order. Inwardly, she winced and tried to think of something to say, something not inane, or smalltalk. Something meaningful. 'Tell me about yourself' Another order, and an inane one, at that. Nopony ever knew how to answer that. 'What made you sign up for this?' BAD IDEA. She would be asked that in return, and have to admit that she'd been signed up by someone else. It might make Octavia feel unwanted. 'What do you do for a living?' Smalltalk. And she could guess already. She glanced down at her pin.

...Wait, maybe she could use that.

"What was it about the Cello that made you choose it, out of all the others?" Fleet asked, in a flash of what she hoped was brilliance!

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She liked it! Octavia breathed a sigh of relief and allowed herself a little smile. Everything is going fine, she told herself. Her logical mind fired back with a 'Huh, it really is'. Fleetfoot was worried about her gift not leaving an impression. Octavia laughed lightly.

"I-I'm sorry!" She covered her mouth with her hoof. "It's just...You're Fleetfoot. Fleetfoot of the Wonderbolts. It's no wonder they never told me your name ahead of time, I'd have known immediately who you were. The last thing you have to worry about is me not remembering this date, or you." She took a few more deep breaths to stop herself from giggling even more.

Still, she could feel the blush rising in her face. It wouldn't be so bad, but it seemed that her date hadn't intended for it to come out so...affectionately. That meant that it had just come out, and those types of thoughts tended to be the most sincere. It was furiously embarassing, but she cranked up her internal jazz music to cool herself off.

Then she suggested a walk. A walk sounded wonderful. Oh, wait, you're supposed to say that out loud...

"A walk sounds wonderful." She smiled at her success. Apparently, sucess meant talking now. Upon seeing her counterpart wince, she relized that, in retrospect, the suggestion may have seemed like a command. She didn't see it that way, but....well, comfort levels seemed to be fluxuating wildly between the two. She started the walk, taking her time to make sure that her shaky legs didn't show. For the first time she took in the venue. It was beautiful. Very beautiful. They'd really gone all out for this date. Was it because Fleetfoot was involved? She wondered if that kind of favoritism could exist in this sort of event. Or perhaps all of the matches had dates in such a spectacular location. There went her mind, wandering again. Was she trying to ignore what was happening? She glanced into the small, rippling pond.

"What was it about the Cello that made you choose it, out of all the others?"

She beamed. If there was one thing, one topic in the entire world that she was completely comfortable with, it was her cello. Most ponies didn't really care to know, so she always loved to talk about it whenever she got the opportunity. "The cello....Well, back when I was just a little filly..." She began. Keep it concise. No need to prattle on for too long, you know you love doing that... "I always really loved music. My parents swear to this day that no matter what the problem was, I could always be calmed by playing a little Beethooven. As for the cello...." She paused nervously. She wasn't sure she believed this part herself, but... "My mother used to say that I chose it out when I was still in diapers. She told me she'd had to drag me away from a cello while we were window shopping. Then, when my musical tastes turned to classical as a schoolfilly, they bought me a small cello for my birthday and...I suppose that's how it started."

Good! That took less than an hour! She mentally patted herself on the back. Now what....don't let the conversation die. "What about you? I'd love to hear how you became so...well...amazing." It was the only word that had come to mind. Probably not the least embarrassing one she could have used, but now that it was out there she decided to stick to and defend her choice. This was Fleetfoot that she was talking to. Amazing was just the tip of the iceberg of words that filled her mind. Many of them made her want to hide her face, and many more made her realize that signing up under the "both" category may not have been so much of a fluke.

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"I always really loved music. My parents swear to this day that no matter what the problem was, I could always be calmed by playing a little Beethooven.

Fleet smiled and gave a little chuckle. "Beethooven, huh? Not quite the composer I would have thought of for soothing. There's no doubt that 'Fur Elise' and his 'Moonlight Sonata' are probably the most delicate pieces ever written, but so much of his work seems kind of stormy. He was a very passionate pony, I think. When it comes to the cello, I like Johan Saddlebach and his cello suites, particularly the first. But mine isn't a childhood love. I only discovered him by accident, after I became an adult."

As Octavia spoke of a seeming instinctive love for the Cello, Fleetfoot listened intently, noting how animated and bright, not to mention how much more at ease, the mare became. It was clear she really, truly loved her topic. Almost as much as she loved her instrument itself.

"What about you? I'd love to hear how you became so...well...amazing."

The Wonderbolt had to blush at that, but she didn't deny the description, though she told herself to remember to give credit where it was due. "To be honest," she began, finding it easier to admire some pearly white calla lilies instead of looking at her companion. "A lot of my... amazing ...ness... has less to do with any actual gifts of my own, and seems to have just sort of happened by accident. It's kind of a long story though, and doesn't make a lot of sense if I shorten it much, so bear with me." she glanced quickly at Octavia to make sure she was not offended by being contradicted, or changed her mind about listening, then continued.

"As a very little foal, I had no trouble learning to fly, it came naturally. I guess this excited my parents a lot, because they were always signing me up for extra flight classes and training. Agility, Speed, and Grace-flying classes, I was always doing one or all of them. Even so, I was always just... average. nothing special, even in speed." Fleet hesitated. Tell the truth, but keep it light. "I didn't get a cutie mark for the longest time. I was never bad at anything, but I wasn't good at anything, either, it seemed."

Fleet frowned. She wasn't sure she'd stressed that point enough. "I'm sure you can understand. There's a difference between a musician who's perfectly proficient and one who's really talented. That's what it was like for me. I was acceptable in just about everything, but actually gifted in nothing. By the time I hit my teens, my parents were seriously disappointed with me and they sent me to try work as mail-pony." They sent me to ground so that I wouldn't embarrass them with my mediocrity. she thought.

"Well, I was about as good with my mail-pony duties as everything else, proficient, but not gifted. But I found that the faster I performed my route, the sooner I could go do other things quietly, by myself. A teen with a blank flank... is not a popular pony. Then it became a game, trying to see how fast I could get it done with, always trying to match or improve the time from yesterday." Fleet smiled at the remembrance. "One day I was taking a bath and I saw that it- My cutie mark, that is... was just there."

"I still wasn't particularly talented at anything that I could see, but having a mark at least made things easier on me. I'm not sure if you're aware of pegasai traditions, but we have an event known as 'drawing the water' where a selected town's pegasai create a whirlwind as a group and use it to pull groundwater to Cloudsdale for weather-making. That year, it was my town's turn and I got to take part. During this event..." Fleet broke off suddenly, realizing they had walked around the lily gardens twice.

"This is getting extremely long, I'm really sorry." the Wonderbolt laughed at herself.

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Fleetfoot knew classical music? The thought made her heart leap. Perhaps her art wasn't a dying one after all. This mare was looking more and more wonderful by the moment. Now that Johan's suite was stuck in her head, she smiled. Suppressing the desire to rear back and play the song on the air-cello, she watched and listened with rapt attention as the wonderbolt told her story. It was entrancing, a little bit. As she thought about it, Octavia realized that this story, that she was being told right now, would probably be published in a book at some point. And here she was, getting it straight from the source.

The story itself was intriguing. A teenager with no cutie mark. It must have been tough. Memories of her own cutie mark broiled just under the surface of her mind. It was a good time for her, and even though she got her own relatively early, she felt a certain kinship. Actually, the more she thought about it, the more different she realized the stories were. Still, knowing the story behind a pony's cutie mark truly forged a connection between the two. The stories always seemed to tell the true personality behind a pony's facade. And whether the Wonderbolt costume was a facade or the result of a transformation, Octavia decided that she wanted to know. Her heart thumped in her chest as her date (though that term was somewhat forgotten, by now) paused in her story to apologize.

"This is getting extremely long, I'm really sorry."

"No, no..." She spoke breathlessly. "Please, continue." *Her eyes were locked on Fleetfoot, bewitched entirely by the first mare she'd ever dated, her vision set against the absolutely beautiful backdrop of shrubbery, flowers, and perfectly attended ponds and gardens. The breaths she drew were shallow, but slow. Her face, unbeknownst to her, had flushed softly in response to her heart's excess beating. She held herself back from leaning forward to hear the next part of the story that much better, from that much closer. Fascination, to Octavia, was something new outside of music.

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Fleetfoot looked at her in surprise, then with a suggestion of doubt, then dawning realization that both Octavia's rapt attention and urging were sincere. She was really interested. She really wanted to know, and wasn't offended or disgusted at all. The pegasus felt an almost electifying tingle run from hoof to hair, as though she were standing on a fully-charged thundercloud. But instead of an ominous feeling, this was a joyful one, even if it did bring on another blush to be hidden by the uniform.

With a shy smile, she nodded, leading towards the entrance of the daisy gardens. She would continue, but there was no need to walk the lily gardens a third time. The sight of the bright, cheerful flowers seemed to encourage her. Daisies weren't elegant or exotic, fantastical or fabulous, they were rather common... But so colorful and cheerful. There was something simple and honest about daisies. Perhaps it was because everything seemed to be going so well, but the Wonderbolt found herself gaining a new appreciation for this oft-overlooked flower. But that was neither here nor there.

"Well..." Fleet began again, "As I said, it was my town's turn to draw the water, and every pair of workable wings were needed. It's not only hard work, but dangerous, as the winds needed to carry that much water are perfectly capable of picking up other things if the pegasai lose control or have poor formation. Because of this, its traditional to have the current Captain of the Wonderbolts attending and observing. They can provide leadership if its lacking, or help manage the resulting disaster if everything goes wrong." Oops, you're starting to stray Fleet told herself. This story is supposed to be about you.

"This time, unknown to the ponies building the winds, there were two little pegasai foals hiding nearby to watch. But they were too close, and they got caught up in the storm. Since they were not skilled enough to fly, they were being thrown about like debris, injuring and being injured by the ponies they were being flung into. Even so, Pegasai are never supposed to break formation, because losing control of the storm can spell disaster for everyone. I ..."

Fleet hesitated for a moment. "Even now, I don't know why I disobeyed the training. It wasn't like me at the time, and I had no particular fondness for these foals. I didn't even know them. But I caught sight of one on the opposite side of the storm, and without even thinking about what I was doing, I shot ahead of everypony to the other side to catch hold of one. The other wasn't so lucky, and even as I got the first foal to cling to my tail, I saw the second one being flung out of the storm near the top. There was no time to do anything, but I shot through the center of the storm, up and out and right behind, even though I was dragging dead weight. It seems impossible, even today, but though there was no way I ought to have been able to manage it, I caught that second foal. A real, genuine, miracle."

"After that, I was invited by the observing Wonderbolt Captain to enter the Wonderbolts academy. I turned it down. My parents were informed. I found myself there anyway. I didn't like it at all. despite the miracle I'd pulled off during the drawing of the water, my average speed was still just... average, and in comparison to these exceptional fliers, I was slow. Not to mention clumsy and graceless." Keep it light. " I had a really hard time of it until I met Spitfire. She was near the top of the class in everything, never the best, but close. What made her..." Fleet stopped, then smiled.

"Makes her special is her quality of leadership. She took me under her wing and helped me in every possible way she could, and introduced me to Soarin, too, for his areas of expertise. But even that wouldn't have been enough to keep me from flunking out, except that she got me a real Wonderbolts uniform to wear, as a sort of encouragement gift..." Fleet paused again. She had very nearly talked herself into an embarrassing admission. she glossed a little.

"It really changed my life. From that day on, whenever I wear my uniform, I am always at my best. It gives me a reason to be fast, and then, like another miracle, I am fast. The other half of my ...amazingness is the way I interact with fans. I love them, and they know it." Fleetfoot the Wonderbolt smiled, a little shyly.

"Now, you really must be sorry you asked," Fleet said with a little giggle. She didn't really think so, it was just a way to break the tension.

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The transition to the daisy garden didn't go unnoticed. Octavia took a few moments to stare around at the new setting. It was like a whole new world in here, fresh with new sights and, Octavia though, a new breeze. At first she only thought she felt it, a gentle bristling of her mane. She was about to chalk it up to the chills she seemed to be receiving from listening to Fleetfoot's story, but then she noticed the flowers. Daisies were a simple flower, but they were quite elegant. However, like a graceful ballerina, their true beauty remains unknown until you see them dance. Whatever light wind was sweeping through this garden in particular, it made the heads of the flowers bob and weave on the ends of their stems, as gracefully as the most deft performers.

The breeze provided a second purpose: It relaxed the cellist's still-beating heart. Calm down, Octavia, she told herself. You're getting far too worked up about all of this. It's just a story, stop being such a... Her thoughts broke off as she struggled to find a word in her own head. Such a fangirl. That wasn't the right term at all, but for now she settled on it. Her mind calmed, and she pushed the sonata that had begun playing aside, taking an intermission for the rest of the story. Despite that, she could still envision the scene. The controlled tornado, lifting the water slowly out of a lake. The small foals, bouncing around helplessly, crying in the wind, and Fleet....no, she couldn't quite picture Fleetfoot. She saw a vague color scheme fly into action, heroically rescuing the two children without even a second thought. Her heart leaped with excitement, and her mind probed at the mysterious Fleetfoot, who had a shape and a color, but was not fully detailed.

Next the Wonderbolt spoke of her current captain. The butterflies in Octavia's stomach quieted a little, and she smiled. Fleetfoot's admiration of Spitfire was in itself admirable. Again, it was as if she were getting right inside the mind of one of the most famous ponies in Equestria. It was real, honest, and genuine, and at the moment the that was what was causing her to swoon, just a little bit. As the story came to a close, the full realization of the situation settled in. The reason she was dating the Wonderbolt Fleetfoot, rather than the Pegasus. The costume suddenly became its own entity, separate and yet inseperable from the mare it was currently on. It also meant that this Wonderbolt, this icon of bravery and symbol of courage, was just as nervous about this date as she had been. Or at least, at the beginning she had been nervous.

Octavia returned the giggle instinctively. "Of course I'm not." She said simply with a smile. "That was a breathtaking story." She looked up at the sun, smiling and basking in it for just a moment. "I can only wish that I could do something so amazing. It's rather an honor to hear it directly from you." She smiled and stopped her walk around the garden. She'd gotten so lost in thought and in the story that she didn't remember if they'd gone around once or twice. Or three times. Either way, they stood at the point that they'd entered the daisy garden. The breeze gently waved through her hair, not quite enough to move it out of place, but still just enough to make it shift, just the tiniest bit. It felt good, this breeze. She wondered what they'd done to the rose garden, aside from fill it with food. She also wondered what kind of food they'd been given.

Not that it really matters. She told herself, smiling at Fleetfoot and trying to think of exactly what to say next.

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Alone in the garden they stood, two figures gently floating in a soft sea of swaying daisies. The isolation... no, that was not the right word, Fleet thought. it was lonely and sad. Solitude wasn't right, either. Whatever the word ought to be, the solitude of the garden was strange. Protective, in a way. Alone, without being lonely. It was just the mares, the sun, the breeze, and the flowers. Almost as though they were the last ponies in Equestria. Dazedly, Fleet wondered if that would be such a bad thing... if it was with Octavia.

It wasn't really like Fleet would wish away all the other ponies in the world. It was just that, at this moment, if it happened, she felt she could deal with it better if Octavia were the other pony. Was that... Love? Really, Fleet a more logical part of her mind chided her, It's far too early to start in on that line of thought! what kind of nonsense are you dreaming?

Without thinking of why she did it, without even being aware that she was doing it, Fleet pushed her goggles up off her eyes. They were in her way, somehow. Her blue-grey eyes looked into Octavia's violet ones. Fleet wished... she didn't know. She almost wished she didn't have her uniform on. Right now, the way Octavia was looking at her, she thought that... maybe... Octavia might be able to ...forgive? Accept? Value? Yes, Value. She might be able to appreciate 'the other Fleetfoot' as much as everyone loved 'The Wonderbolt, Fleetfoot.' She ought to say something... it was important...

"Ah! There you are!"

Fleet actually jumped. Though she had not really thought that she and Octavia had become 'alone in the world' she had forgotten about the ability of the rest of that world to show up suddenly. In this case, it arrived in the shape of one of the event organizers, cheerfully waving at them from the entrance to the rose garden.

"Everything's ready now, so feel free to come on in and have lunch!" he called, cheerfully.

[Deleted]

The eyes are the windows to the soul.

Octavia had heard that line, somewhere. She couldn't quite remember the first time it had come to her, but she definitely remembered asking her dad about it. He'd told her that you could tell a lot about a person's true feelings by looking into their eyes. The young filly, even as she grew into a mare, was never sure she fully believed it. At least, not until...

Ba-thump, said her heart as Fleetfoot reached up to her face.

Ba-thump, it repeated, as she lifted the goggles off of her eyes.

BA-THUMP, it shouted as the steely blue irises emerged from their lidded prison to stare directly into Octavia's. It was like a shot of pure electricity ran down her spine. Having usually had the eyes of the pony she was with as a reference point from the beginning, at least in any sort of intimate situation, be it a business meeting or a lunch with a new orchestra member, the deprivation she'd been unknowingly experiencing suddenly became blatantly clear. All at once, as their eyes met, with nothing in between, Octavia found herself nearly hypnotized by what she could now understand. She now received all those feelings that Fleetfoot was experiencing.

"Seclusion."

She surprised herself with her own voice. "The....the word you're looking for." She hardly knew what she was saying anymore, it was just like...it was the right thing. "Seclusion." It was a rush of emotion and thought and the more she looked, the harder it became to look away. Slowly, ever so slowly, her hoof raised off of the ground. It was like she knew she was doing it, but she couldn't stop herself. She reached up, wondering where her leg's autonomous movement would lead her, towards the Wonderbolt. Perhaps to brush her cheek, or push a stray strand of hair from blocking her view? Maybe just to smack herself into more wakefulness and actually say something.

Something caught in the very far corner of her eye. Something about the state she was in made her see it, even all the way across from the rose garden. Her hoof finished its journey, reaching up and gently pulling the goggles back into place just as the organizer appeared.

Why had she done that? Part of her said that it was because she knew of Fleetfoot's aversion to having her eyes seen, and she was protecting her from this stranger. The other part, however, was the influence that had caused her current shade of deep crimson. She tried to avoid it, but it called to her nonetheless. She'd acted out of some strange form of greed. She didn't want anypony else to see those eyes. She wanted them to herself, to be all hers, for nopony else to see what she saw. She'd jealously guarded Fleetfoot's eyes from a pony who was so far away he would barely have been able to make out their shade.

What's gotten into you? Octavia scolded herself internally. She averted her eyes and cleared her throat. "Er..." Anything. Anything at all to break the tension, to get back to safe ground. "So...let's go...eat?"

Smooth as a silk bag full of nails, Octavia.

[Deleted]

"Seclusion."

Fleet whispered the word back, wonderingly. Yes, that had been the word she was looking for. Even the sound of the word was right, silky and secret. Octavia had found it for her, finished her unspoken thought... and it didn't even occur to the Wonderbolt to be amazed at how she had known. She was too busy drowning in the deep violet of her companion's eyes.

When Octavia reached out to her, Fleet felt her heart skid into high gear and that strange, lightheaded feeling that came from flying too high steal over her. She waited, Delighted and frightened, to see what would happen next. It was a bit jarring when it turned out to be pulling her goggles down again, even though it was done most gently. As they walked towards the entrance to the Rose Garden and their meal, Fleet felt that she had understood part of why Octavia had done it, had understood that at least part of it was consideration for her own need of privacy. She tried to think if she had explained such a thing directly to the mare, but she couldn't remember it. Octavia seemed to have known, without being told.

So why, Fleet asked herself, did she feel so jumpy now? Why was it so hard to think of something interesting to speak of and break the tension? She almost blamed the interruption, almost resented the intrusion by the event organizer, and was glad that he seemed to have vanished already. But perhaps it was just as well. She would have just forgotten what she was saying in the next moment.

"Ooohh..." Fleet gasped, when she saw the rose garden. Stepping through the archway, the feeling of seclusion came over her again as trained hedges of rosebushes, soared well over their heads and blocking out everything but the clear sky overhead. It was hard to say whether the hedges were truly green or truly red, yellow, pink, white, or all the colors in-between, as the roses grew so thickly that the competed with the leaves.

Climbing roses grew over the rose hedges, climbed up trellises and arbors, fell in swaying, fragrant strands everywhere. In one place, they grew all over an old oak tree, from trunk to tip, that must have been standing here before ever the first rose shrub was planted. One particular low branch was trained to hold up a living canopy of roses, and it was under this canopy, with curtains of the flower falling all around them, that their lunch was spread out.

"I.... I... I guess I see why they wanted to save this garden as a surprise until the end." Fleet managed to say, at last!

[Deleted]

The walk across to the final garden was a short one. Or a long one. Octavia couldn't really recall it. Her vision seemed to be entirely dominated by the shimmering vision of the eyes that she so coveted. It was Fleet herself who roused her back to the present. As her own eyes were filled with their new scene, suddenly the arrival of the coordinator didn't bother her.

Her mouth hung slightly ajar and a smile of delight lit both her lips and her eyes. It was astonishingly beautiful. When she'd heard rose garden, she'd expected a few red flowers dotting here and there, but this....If it had been all red, it would have been gaudy and overladen, but the variation of roses seemed to be divided up nearly perfectly across the entire area. She breathed in deeply and let out a long sigh. Even the scent of the roses was perfect. The air tinged just slightly with the sultry aroma, but there was something else there. It must be the food, Octavia thought to herself, her eyes finally resting on the picnic set out for them within the curtain of flowers. The food's smell weaved through the flowers' scent, keeping itself separate out of sheer respect. Somehow, both of the scents were in balance.

This was insane. The longer this date went on, the more she became skeptical of the situation. Not of Fleetfoot, of course. Fleetfoot seemed to be the single genuine factor in all of this. But the date itself, it seemed so....perfect. Beyond perfect. This had to be the single most beautiful place in Ponyville, if not in the entirety of Equestria itself. And here it was, all theirs, just for them. It was unbelievable. Actually unbelievable. As in, Octavia really couldn't believe that this was all just....happening.

Look to your left.

A voice in her head was talking to her. She decided to listen to it. Looking over, she saw Fleetfoot. She stood there, just as impressed as Octavia was, just as enchanted and awed.

Now stop thinking so hard.

She closed her mouth and smiled, just watching the Wonderbolt for a few moments. "Yeah..." She discovered that she could, in fact, still speak. "It's....it's really beautiful." There was wind here too. It caught some of the falling rose petals and playfully whisked them around the garden before depositing them somewhere on the ground. With the wind, the floral curtain beckoned to them. Octavia decided to heed the call, slowly starting the walk towards the large blanket laid out for them.

[Deleted]

Fleetfoot's feelings could hardly be described. It felt... it felt almost like magic was at work here. Not just the magic that was making the flowers bloom- she was pretty sure that at least roses and lilies didn't bloom outside hothouses until summer- but magic that was at work on her. How else could she explain the dream-like feeling she had? Her sudden and unexpected sense of ease as she followed Octavia to their meal? The rosy, warm feeling in her heart and in her head?

On the other hoof, Octavia must be responsible for some of that. She was so... perfect. She was so... how in Equestria could a pony explain it logically? Fleet felt like she, Octavia, admired the Wonderbolt half just enough. She was impressed by all the things which Fleet had accomplished, which made Fleet feel good. But it felt like they would have so many other things in common, so that even when the uniform came off, they would still have things to talk about. Octavia might not just like the Wonderbolt, she might also like the pony underneath it.

Or at least, Fleet had some hope of it now! Her heart jumped in a strange way as she settled down beside Octavia on the blanket. She sneaked a glance at the mare, wondering what her feelings might be. But she probably could have gotten away with staring, since her tinted goggles would have prevented her getting caught anyway. A heady, cool, sweet smell caught her attention and she looked to see what they were being served.

The reason for the long meal preparation was understandable now. Somepony has gone to a great deal of trouble to arrange a beautiful fruit salad for their lunch. They had cut a great many strawberries lengthwise, heart-shaped, as it was sometimes called, and used these slices to arrange a red heart on a platter, with raspberries and red cherries strewn on top. They had outlined this heart with a row of blackberries and blueberries, and behind that, as though it were lace on a valentine, crisp white apple slices.

Any surface area of the plate not covered thus, had been filled with thin leaf-shaped slices of sweet green honeydew melon. The fruit was fresh and ripe, and the apples had not even the slightest hint of brown yet from being in open air. The sweet fruit was nicely balanced by two cups of dark chocolate mousse for dessert, and a dry white wine, chilled in a bucket of ice. Yes, somepony had gone to a great deal of trouble!

Fleet looked at it, and then looked up Octavia. "It almost looks too good to eat." She said with a shy laugh. "But with all that work, and all our walking, I think we'll have to. You go first."