It started when Dash noticed that her wingmate had left his wallet on top of one of the vending machines at the VOQ after he'd dropped her off from a day's worth of unsolicited financial literacy training, starting with somebody who called themselves a tax accountant.

She retrieved the worn little leather folder, figuring she'd return it to him in the Officer's Mess – he refused to eat off base because on base was cheaper or free depending on where you went, and maybe razz him a bit for his uncharacteristic forgetfulness.

Only he never showed up.

So it had sat in front of her on the table as she ate while reading her emails on her smart phone and writing in the journal that linked her to Equestria, figuring he'd come in later.

Later never came.

So she took an evening run, careful with her ankle, which had finally stopped aching and was now merely stiff and in need of exercise.

Sometimes they ran together, but not this time.

Stuck with Mike's wallet and irritated that she was going to be responsible for someone else's money, ID, and credit cards for who knows how long, Lt. Dash sifted through her iPhone's directory and found his number. If Mike was going to be careless enough to leave his wallet laying around for anybody to go through, she was damned if she was going to be responsible for it until he got around to claiming it!

Only instead of Mike, a woman's voice answered the phone, with the same soft twang to it which sometimes surfaced in Mike's whenever he became frustrated or upset.

Sooooo, Mike had a girlfriend… who knew?

Okay, then, why didn't he bring her on the camping trip like a lot of other people had their S.O.s?

Or even to their graduation last week?

Still, Cheapskate was so quiet about his personal life that learning that there was a woman in it aside from his mother was kind of exciting. Did they have kids?

If so, how many and why didn't he ever pass their pictures around like everybody else did? (The thought of her taciturn wingmate changing diapers at 2 a.m. while on leave was like catnip.)

Anyway, was she Navy?

Was she a dependa?

Oh please, don't let her be a dependa – Mike could be a bit of a stick in the mud at times, but he didn't deserve that!

"Ohhhhh, stop it!" Dash'd thought to herself, "You're nosy as Rarity!" She hastily cut the rest of the thought off as the woman gave her directions to return the missing wallet off base, thanking her for finding it; Mike was frantic over having misplaced it. He'd dumped every drawer in the house onto the floor looking for it.

"Ooooooh, dis gonna be good!" Even though Rainbow Dash felt just a little disappointed at Mike's having a girlfriend, it was sort of exciting finding out about it, she thought with a giggle as she steered her freshly re-licensed '82 Triumph Bonneville through the off-base evening traffic, "He's been holding out on everybody – wonder if they went to high school together?"

Anyway, she'd pulled up in front of the little 1930s bungalow that she'd once promised to help to rip old shingles off of sight unseen as part of a bet and killed the engine before hanging her helmet off the handlebars.

Mike was doggedly clipping the ratty little hedge in the front when she stopped. He'd turned around at her call, nose still swollen from the procedure two days before, electric hedge trimmer dangling from one large hand, hardly frantic looking at all.

There were no toys on the porch.

Hmmmmm.

(Maybe they were in the back yard?)

Abandoning the clippers, he'd walked over and she'd handed him his wallet, the two of them making awkward conversation when Mike's mom rolled out of the front door, a familiar black German shepherd in a service harness padding along behind her as she glided down the ramp and onto the front sidewalk.

Well, that certainly explained why she'd sounded familiar over the phone!

They'd sat talking as twilight settled around them, Mike off to one side nursing a Coke because he was on painkillers, quietly hiding behind the day's newspaper, big feet in a pair of worn flip-flops propped up on the railing, occasionally eyeing them both over the edge of the paper as they'd chattered away with Indigo the Service dog patiently sitting beside his mistress.

After a while Mike got up, padded into the house and came out with two well-worn guitars, handing one to his mother without a word, the two of them playing with Agnes his mother, singing in a voice which reminded Rainbow of Applejack and her family almost to the point of tears. Eventually Agnes passed Rainbow her guitar, and Dash followed Mike through the unfamiliar tunes as his mother sang softly in the darkness of lost loves, cabins on mountainsides, and green valleys with unforgiving soil before they all went inside for a late supper of leftovers.

Later she'd come to the back door after helping with the dishes to find Mike quietly playing one of the old guitars on the back stoop in the dark, singing something in a slightly nasal lilting tenor under his breath that sounded like, "…pussywillows cat-tails soft winds and roses, rainpools in the woodland, water to my knees, shivering, quivering, the warm breath of spring…"

Startled, she'd only heard him sing once before and then only over an F-14's communication system, Dash had stood transfixed, leaning against the door frame, hand lightly touching the rusty screen of the back door in the shabby little kitchen, she'd looked down as Agnes parked beside her, finger over her lips, eyes sparkling. When Rainbow Dash started to push the door open to join him, his mother put her hand on Dash's arm, pulling her down, whispering in her ear, "Don't. If he thinks somebody's listening, he'll stop. It's the only way I ever get to hear him sing."

Which is what Rainbow heard as she awoke, covered in sweat to a rhythmic jouncing that shook her entire body, the world retreating from her.