Flying Dreams

Scootaloo soared through the air with her wings outstretched, flapping frantically... and landed face first in the mud. A moment later, her scooter crashed down with a wet thud nearby.

“Er,” Apple Bloom called out, peering down at her friend in concern from the club house balcony, “are you OK Scootaloo?”

The formerly orange pegasus filly sat up slowly, checking her wings, and spitting out the mud that had found it’s way into her muzzle. “Yeah, I’m fine. I dunno what happened, I just slipped off my scooter as I made the jump.”

“It’s pretty muddy,” observed Sweetie Belle perceptively, helping her up, “maybe you should try again for your dirt jumping cutie mark when it’s not so wet?”

After Scootaloo had washed some of the mud out of her coat with the hose, all three fillies retreated to the clubhouse to mastermind their crusading plans for the weekend ahead. Scootaloo dried herself in front of the little portable oil heater they had acquired second-hand from Mr Breezy, while they argued earnestly about what activities they should try next.

Sweetie Belle was taking minutes in her diary as they debated. “How about, Cutie Mark Crusader Spies?” she suggested hopefully. “We could find somepony with an interesting secret, and follow them to see what they do?”

Scootaloo frowned, “How would we know they had an interesting secret before we started following them?”

Sweetie chewed on her pencil for a bit before venturing, “Rarity says everypony has secrets, but that it’s always the quiet ones who’re hiding the biggest lib-ee-dos; I’m not sure what that is, but I guess it’s some kind of big secret?”

“Big Macintosh is pretty quiet,” offered Scootaloo, not wanting to appear quiet herself.

“We’re not gonna spy on ma’ brother! Ah’ could get in trouble for that!” Applebloom protested indignantly. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I would have noticed if he had any lib-ee-dos hidden anywhere at home.”

“Maybe he keeps them at Miss Cherilee’s house?” Sweetie suggested. “Anyway, there’s tons of other quiet ponies. We could try the Library; I bet there will be lots of quiet ponies there on a Saturday. You get in trouble for talking loudly now, since Twilight put that sign up.”

“What would we do if they caught us spying?” asked Applebloom, who was always the first to be grounded whenever her sister found out what they had been up to.

“They wouldn’t, Dummy,” explained Sweetie Belle matter-of-factly, “no one notices spies - they like, blend into the background and move without being seen - everyone knows that.”

“Uh Sweetie,” interjected Scootaloo, “I think that’s ninjas, not spies.”

“Oh,” said Sweetie, looking momentarily crestfallen, before her eyes lit up again, “what about ninja-spys then?”

***

Being a Friday, they were allowed to stay out later than on school nights, but by six-thirty all three Crusaders were feeling the call of dinner, and decided to break up for the night, agreeing to meet again the next morning to start their ninja spy ring.

Outside, the sky was darkening, and it was raining lightly. As Scootaloo rode her muddy but still-working scooter home, she caught sight of Rainbow Dash and two other weather pegasai flying high above, corralling clouds with expert precision.

Dash eventually noticed the little orange pegasus waving up at her, and casually dropped out of formation, lowering her altitude until she was within shouting distance of the filly. “Heya Scoots... you’d better get inside soon, we’ve got a big storm scheduled to start in a few minutes,” she called down.

Scootaloo nodded, and yelled back “OK, thanks Rainbow Dash, I’m just heading home anyway”. Dash gave the filly a playful salute, and then flew off, rejoining formation.

By the time she made it home, it was raining steadily, and her hooves were caked in yet more mud. Wiping them off on the front door mat, the bedraggled filly made a beeline for the shower.

Compared to the rest of the small two bedroom, two story cottage, the bathroom was almost palatial. Her aunt Rosemary, a real estate agent by trade - if not by her sales figures - maintained that good kitchens and bathrooms are the heart and soul of any home. Scootaloo wasn’t sure about this at all, but she had come to appreciate her aunt’s fancy shower, which in addition to the normal rose, had special horizontal water jets that cleaned and massaged at the same time; it was like being in a spa, but standing up.

The hot shower felt amazing as it played on her coat, and she watched the stream of muddy water running down her fetlocks and disappearing down the plug-hole.
With the mud gone, the bruises and scrapes from her scooter crash were now visible, and she found that she was tender in half a dozen different places as she worked the shampoo through her coat.

Turning the shower off, she was puzzled to still hear loud running water, until she realized it was the storm outside, which was now pelting down, with no sign of letting up.

Emerging sometime later from the bathroom in her freshly laundered Wonderbolts pajamas, she headed back downstairs to investigate the fridge. Auntie Rosemary trotted into the kitchen as Scootaloo was demolishing a packet of cheese singles, half a packet of oat biscuits and a glass of milk.

“Scootaloo, you’ll wreck your appetite!” she admonished.

“No I won’t,” said Scootaloo with her mouth full, looking guilty none-the-less.

“How was school?” Her aunt always quizzed her on this.

“Yeah OK, learned some stuff.”

“That’s good. Oh, by the way, your package arrived for you honey, it’s on your bed.”

Scootaloo stopped chewing, and looked up at her aunt with a baleful face.

Rosemary had placed the order the day after she had spoken to Scootaloo about her ‘problem’, but it had taken a few days to ship from Canterlot, and she had almost forgotten about it in the meantime, not having wet the bed again since then.

***

Scootaloo had finished her snack, had dinner, watched TV, and finally, when her Aunt had insisted it was too late to watch any more, she had voluntarily decided to do her homework rather than go to bed - unprecedented for a Friday night.

Eventually, when she found Scootaloo nodding off, with her head resting on her open geography workbook, her aunt decided it was time to put her hoof down. “Bedtime missy, no more procrastinating”.

“Pro what now?” asked Scootaloo sleepily. What did she look like, a dictionary?

“Never mind... off to bed with you. Let me know if you need any help.”

Scootaloo blushed and shook her head emphatically. Leaving her homework unfinished on the kitchen table, she stormed upstairs sulkily, and went to slowly brush her teeth.

The few steps across the landing from the bathroom to her bedroom seemed to take forever. Her feet felt clumsy underneath her, and she realized that despite the drop in temperature from the storm, she was sweating. She slipped inside her darkened bedroom, and shut the door, her heart pounding.

Don’t be stupid, she told herself. They’re just dumb diapers.

She started suddenly as a bolt of lightning lit up the room, momentarily highlighting in silhouette the package on her bed which she had been doing her best to avoid thinking about all evening.

She padded over to her bed, and had pulled the covers up around her neck before she heard the distant answer of thunder. Once her eyes adjusted, she could see the package sitting at the end of her bed clearly. Actually, she could see now there were two packages. The larger one, a plain cardboard box, was bigger than she had expected. The smaller package was less evenly shaped, and was wrapped in gift-paper.

Her curiosity getting the better of her, she turned on her bedside night-light, then reached forward to pick up the smaller package. It was light and soft to touch, and had a gift label attached. Squinting at her Aunt’s handwriting, she read “Thought you might like a new friend - xxx Auntie Rose”. Tearing off the wrapping paper, she found a handsome official Wonderbolts plush toy pony inside. Scootaloo smiled. You could say what you liked about her aunt, but she understood the importance and proper application of bribes.

Setting the Wonderbolt plushy aside, she turned her attention back to the task she had been dreading. Opening the seal on the cardboard box, she found two smaller packages inside, both wrapped in blue shrink-wrapped plastic. She pulled one out, and discarded the cardboard box on the floor.

The diaper package had a graphic of three silhouetted Wonderbolts in arrow formation on the front, along with the words ’18 nighttime diapers for colts 12-16 years’, and ‘New Wonderbolts design!’ emblazoned diagonally across the bottom right corner.

Scootaloo found herself wondering what the difference was between daytime and nighttime diapers, before turning her attention to the rear of the packet, where an instructional line drawing showed a young colt being changed by some helpful pony. She had refused, out of embarrassment, her aunt’s offer to help her change, but she thought she had a pretty good idea how diapers were supposed to go on, having helped Pinkie Pie look after Pound and Pumpkin Cake several times, in the hope of earning a foal-sitting cutie mark.

With trepidation and a little curiosity, she ripped open the package along the tear-line at the top, and pulled out a single pristine diaper. It’s bigger than I thought it would be, she thought. It looks just like the diapers Pound and Pumpkin wear, but way bigger. Its plastic surface was soft to touch, and crinkled as she unfolded it carefully to take a better look. Most of the diaper was white, with blue trimmings on the leg guards, tail guard and wings. The whole front was largely taken up by the same Wonderbolts graphic that appeared on the diaper packet. The picture does look kind of cool, she admitted to herself, pity it has to be on a stupid diaper.

The storm outside was still showing no sign of abating, and the rain continued to drum steadily against the window pane. The little orange filly yawned suddenly; she hadn’t realized how tired she was, and how late it had gotten. It’s now or never she decided.

She took the diaper, and laid it out open on top of her bed covers, trying to remember what Pinkie or Mrs. Cake would do next when they were changing the twins. After slipping out of her pajamas, she gingerly maneuvered herself into position, squatting naked over the open diaper, then sitting herself down in the middle of it, and lying back. Fishing around for the tabs to do the diaper up, she was confused that she couldn’t find them, until she realized she was facing the wrong way. After scooting around, she pulled the front of the diaper up, covering her whole belly. She found the back wings of the diaper, and pulled them around one at a time. Finally, she pulled the tapes out, and fastened them to the front of the diaper, so that it fitted quite tightly.

She was found herself surprised by how snug it felt. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as she had thought it might be. The inside of the diaper was soft against her skin, and its thickness somehow felt almost... nice?

Yawning again, she turned her night light off, and got back into bed, crinkling slightly, her padded rear slipping against the clean sheets. She lay there, hugging the Wonderbolt plushy her aunt had given her, and listening to the rain hammering on the window pane, wondering whether Rainbow Dash was still out there somewhere, directing the storm. A few moments later, she was fast asleep.