Give Sugar, Dance Sweetly

by BeaconOfMadness

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark
Length: 4632

On her trip to Manehattan, Scootaloo's first time cursading by herself seems to pay off. A mare called Soixante Neuf introduces her to the sensual dances. What seems an art to her, starts dragging her down into the dangerous cespool of 34th Street.

On her trip to Manehattan, Scootaloo's first time cursading by herself seems to pay off. A friendly mare called Soixante Neuf introduces her to the sensual dances. What seems an art to Scootaloo however, quickly starts dragging her down into the dangerous cespool of 34th Street.

Stuck with a talent everpony missreads and a criminal organisation breathing down her neck, all hope for a future seems lost. Desperate, she must turn to her past in Ponyville to find redemption.

Slightly aged up characters.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-05-24 21:25:16 UTC

Welcome to the town where dreams come true!

The heart of winter wasn't hidden, snowflakes raining falling down and forming a large rug across the Manehattan streets. The citizens were all dressed up warm. Tourists entered shops to get their ski gear and ice skates.

Among the ponies in the streets, a lost pegasus stood. An orange young mare. Her flanks were bare of cutie mark and her wings smaller than those of the average pegasus. Her cerise coloured hair danced in the wind. She shivered and cursed for not bringing any clothes. She lifted the map again, but studying maps was hard for a non-unicorn like her, lacking the means of holding it while walking and carrying her bags. Her back bended under the weight of all her luggage. She tried to stop a passer-by to ask for directions, but was completely ignored. Just her luck. She put the map back in her bags and looked around for anything she recognised from her last visit to Babs' place. Unfortunately, it had been years already and Manehattan just kept on changing. The first time she was allowed to live without any supervision and she already thought she was messing up. She cringed.

"No, I'm not going back to Ponyville. Having lived with Apple Bloom as an aunt... No, I can't go back."

She looked for an info booth to try asking for directions again. No fake parents, she was in charge now. All she needed to do is find her apartment. A cheap place, yes, but her own nonetheless.

It didn't take her long to find an info bureau. The problem was it had a line going all the way across the street, blocking out the taxis. She shivered in the cold. She couldn't stand there and wait in this weather. She needed clothes first and fast. There was a little fashion shop at the corner of Lunar Street. The name rang a bell. Lunar Street. She couldn't remember what was important about this place. The showcase contained large display puppets wearing the newest winter fashion. Bonnets, scarves and boots. Cloaks and vests were the more expensive ones. Going through her purse, Scootaloo recounted the money she had. Especially during the first days here, she had promised herself not to spend over thirty bits in one day. She needed to spare some money to eat as well.

The door opened with the sound of a bell. Behind the counter, an earth pony lady played with her curly blue mane. The shop was clustered with racks and racks of clothing. Scootaloo recognised some of Rarity's designs. There were a few other customers browsing the supplies. A tall brown stallion rummaged through the bonnets and a mare the age of Scootaloo stood by the boots with a smaller filly. The inhabitants of Manehattan seemed to be mostly earth ponies. Occasionally, a unicorn or pegasus would pop up between the locals, but most of the descendants from the other tribes were here as tourists. Scootaloo could've sworn she saw an alicorn fly by in the distance earlier, but that was most likely the stress. There were only four alicorns in Equestria. There was no fifth, let alone one that looked like the famous Neon Lights.

Glancing over the price tags, the pegasus groaned,

"Buck, I can't afford these," she said to herself.

She hadn't expected anypony to hear, but the young mare at the boots had noticed.

"If you are feeling cold, boots are always pretty warm and cheap," she said, motioning towards the products.

It was an azure mare. Her hairstyle was raggedy and blonde. Her hooves were in laced pink boots. Her cutie mark was covered up by a brown cloak. The little filly next to her had a similar colour scheme, though somewhat darker. She wore a snug pink vest and fluffy boots. On her head, she had a bonnet.

"I always buy those of Coco Pommel's line. She really puts a lot of effort in keeping it affordable," the mare continued. Scootaloo walked over to the boot rack and scanned for something she liked. She chose the leather black boots. It was ten bits, a good price for four shoes.

"Thanks for the tip," she told the friendly stranger. She picked a black scarf worth five bits.

Guess that'll have to be enough to keep me warm, she thought to herself, or I won't be able to eat tonight. Considering I find home.

She was about to head for the counter, when an idea popped up in her head. Maybe she wouldn't have to go to the info booth after all.

"Would you happen to know where I can find Foggy Lane?" Scootaloo asked the mare.

She responded with a frown, "Moving to Manehattan, or visiting somepony?"

"I'm moving here. There's supposedly an apartment waiting for me there."

The friendly mare pointed out the window, North.

"The quickest way is straight in that direction, through 34th Street, but you wouldn't want to go there alone when it gets dark.

I'd suggest going around the block, through Discord Drive and then left at 2nd Street."

Scootaloo nodded, "Thank you very much, Miss..?"

"Lily Stem," the mare said, "and this is Passiflora."

She pointed to the filly beside her. Did lilies even have stems? Scootaloo wasn't sure. The only lilies she recalled were the ones in the pond around the town fountain and in the rivers. She had never really taken the time to investigate them, being so busy doing awesome scooter tricks and all.

"Ah, little sister?" Scootaloo asked.

"Sort of," Lily nodded, looking over to the rather bored girl. Sort of? What kind of answer was that? Scootaloo wanted to ask on, but stopped herself. There were numerous reasons for that answer to be valid. Passiflora could be her half sister, adopted sister or perhaps even have a sisterly bond with Lily comparable to that of Scootaloo with Rainbow Dash.

"My name's Scootaloo! Pleased to make your acquaintance."

They shook hooves. Lily picked up a pair of boots from one of the shelves by lifting them by the laces with her mouth. It was strange she only took two boots and not four, but Scootaloo decided not to question it too much. She caught a glimpse of Lily's cutie mark when the mare reached for the article. It was a blossoming lily flower, surrounded by lines of gold. Probably a florist, Scoot concluded.

After paying for the clothing, Scootaloo wrapped the scarf around her neck, already feeling a lot warmer and cosier. She put down the luggage and fished the boots from her bags. Trying to put them on, she noticed they were a bit tight. Whilst trying to put on the third one on her left hind leg, a colt ran by and grabbed the bag that held her coin purse.

"Hey, stop right there!" she yelled out. Scootaloo could've caught up with him, probably could've beaten him senseless, if it weren't for the boots. She tripped over the boot only half on het hoof and fell muzzle down on the pavement. She cursed whilst she got up. She couldn't simply run after him in her state. The colt disappeared in the crowd.

"Hey, didn't you hear her?" a mare said, sliding outside the store sideways. Lily glared angrily at the place the colt had vanished. She growled and speeded straight towards it, disappearing after him.

Scootaloo was stunned. She would've never imagined a stranger would do such a thing for her, let alone one from Manehattan. She got up and figured she had no choice but to keep trying to put on that hoofwear. Little Passiflora followed her big sister outside and came stand next to Scootaloo. She gave the newcomer a pensive glare.

"Don't worry," she said, "That was Quickhoof. Lily knows just how to push the right buttons to get your things back."

Now the pegasus was surprised by how glib Passiflora could speak. 'To push the right buttons' was hardly a term she would've used at that age.

Passiflora sat down next to the remaining bags and whistled a tune, watching Scootaloo struggle with the tight boots.

"You're pretty," the filly remarked.

After tightening the last strap on the fourth boots, Scootaloo turned towards the little girl and frowned, "Thank you!"

"Don't go to 34th Street," the filly said flatly, "That's where mom got me."

Scootaloo rose an eyebrow, about to ask to elaborate when Lily trotted towards them triumphantly.

The earth pony was holding the bag with the coin purse in her mouth. She dropped in before Scoot's hooves.

"Here you go," she said smugly. The newcomer was astonished. She looked out into the crowd, but saw no signs of a ruckus.

"How did you...?" she started, but the mare silenced her by placing a hoof on her lips.

"Let's just say I can be pretty convincing," Lily Stem claimed.

She then beckoned Passiflora to follow. She waved at Scootaloo, "I guess I'll see you around then. Remember, stay clear of 34th."

The orange pegasus nodded, "I will. Thanks for the help."

The odd mare walked of in the other direction. Scootaloo could hear them whispering.

Passiflora leaned in close to her azure sister.

"Does this mean you'll have to work late again?"

The helpful mare nodded, "Yeah."

Whilst watching the peculiar pair disappear around the corner,

Scootaloo quickly gathered her things and galloped in the direction Lily Stem had pointed her.

Discord Drive was just another shopping district. Mostly little stores with antiques, tourist supplies, souvenirs and comic book stores. It was a long street with a strong curve. Trudging through the crowd was tiresome carrying all her luggage. The ponies in the streets were far from polite, bumping into each other and calling names. Scootaloo figured she was lucky to meet this Lily Stem. She should definitely try and get in touch again.

The district was still filled with folk at this time of the day, so it was hard to properly read the street signs. Not sure where 2nd street was supposed to be, Scootaloo decided to take a break. She found an empty bench and sat down, relieving her back from the weight of her things. She remembered once being in Discord Drive, when it was still called Cobblestone Street. As the pony mass started to dissipate, she started recognising the places she'd been before. That comic store on the corner was called Geek Read's, it was where Apple Bloom had discovered those graphic novels of Daring Do adventures. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle.

Scootaloo couldn't help but smile at the memories, even though things were difficult now between her and Sweetie Belle. She sighed. If only she was able to fix things with the flick of her wing. Suddenly, an idea popped up in her mind. If this really was where Cobblestone Street used to be, Babs Seed's salon couldn't be far away. The salon was in Lunar Street, of course! That explained why the name sounded so familiar. The mare promised herself she would visit Babs tomorrow. Now, all she had to do is get some dinner and find her apartment.

It wasn't a palace, but it sure was affordable. With an exasperated groan, she pushed open the heavy wooden door. Bits of paint peeled off and got stuck in her mane and coat. Somepony needed to get working on the maintenance of this place. She found the keys in her coin purse and read the number on the tag. Room 24. She considered using the elevator. Seeing as it was out of order, that plan wasn't going to work. She trotted up the stairs to the third floor. The halls were a dirty green. The floor carpet was stained with unknown substances. Passing some of the doors, she could clearly hear though the walls. One of the rooms she heard a distinct snoring. Another had a stallion raging at something, screaming obscenities.

Suddenly, she was stopped in her tracks by a stranger. Probably an inmate. The horse wasn't watching his step, dragging a bag backwards over the floor with his mouth. Scootaloo took a step aside to let him pass. She tried to get a good look at him. It wasn't a pegasus or unicorn for sure. In fact, she wasn't sure he was a pony at all. He was larger, though seemingly small and slim for his kind. His dark grey mane swayed back and forth in the draft. Scootaloo recognised some of his features from the visit of the Saddle Arabians to Ponyville. The blue Arabian still hadn't noticed her as he simply kept on dragging the bag, eyes closed and humming a tune. For a second, Scootaloo thought there was a body in the bag. Then, she recognised the smell of the usual garbage. He was putting out the trash. After he'd passed her by, Scootaloo resumed her path through the hallway and kept reading the numbers, looking for number 24.

Again, she was suddenly urged to stop. This time not by another pony, but by her own confusion. Was she hearing that right? She took a step closer to one of the doors.

"Uhn, uhn... Oooh, oh..."

Moaning. Moaning and the sound of bed springs recoiling, followed by thumps. A shiver went down her spine. These walls really needed to be sound proofed. She stood still for a few seconds, pondering why she was here in the first place. A sudden increase in noise by some sort of fleshy slapping encouraged her to walk away as quickly as possible.

Compared to the rest of the building, her place was actually very clean. Whoever owned this place must've put a lot of work in making sure it was suitable for the next inhabitant. It was spick and span. The floor was covered in a soft dark red carpet. The walls were a neutral yellow. In the middle of the first room stood a wooden table and a dresser. There was a door to the left and a door to the right. On the left was a simple kitchen with basic kitchen equipment and a window looking out on Foggy Lane. On the right was a bedroom with a large bed and a bedside table. The bed was covered red bedding.

Scootaloo dropped her bags on the bed and walked over to the bedroom window. She found out it gave her a view of the crossroads where Foggy Lane met 34th Street. She couldn't see a lot of aforementioned location of danger and peril, but decided to close the curtains anyway. Even though she didn't know Lily at all, she already had the feeling the strange mare had meant every word of her warnings.

Scootaloo sighed in relief as she took off the black boots and the scarf and lay back on her new bed. it had a soft mattress. A bit bouncy maybe. She cringed at being reminded of that audio play she'd heard in the hallway. Her tummy growled. Giving in to her bodily needs, she skipped over to her bags and picked the paper bag with the salad she had bought on her way here. She took some clean plates from the dresser and ate her new meal on the wooden table.

During her meal, she heard a sudden knock on her door. Who would come visit now?

Cautiously, she walked over to the door and opened it ajar.

"I saw you cross the street," a voice sounded.

Scootaloo opened the door a bit further. She soon regretted that decision. A dirty looking stallion stood there. His blue eyes looked straight at her, but he held his head crooked. His gelled up black mane was sweaty, as well as his yellow coat.

"I like your boots," he said with an eerie smile.

Scootaloo blinked a few times. This pony had real bad breath.

"Uh, thanks, I guess," she replied. She was about to close the door, when the stallion jammed his hoof between.

"I like your body," he continued, "I'd like to see every curve of it."

"Thanks but no thanks," Scootaloo answered.

A bead of sweat formed on her forehead. She tried to push his hoof away, but the earth pony was stronger than her.

"Oh, I wasn't asking," the stallion continued, pressing farther inside. Scootaloo had enough.

The lad screamed in agony when her left front hoof hit his ugly muzzle. She heard a large crunch as she scrunched his face.

The stallion fell on his behind shouting dozens of insults.

"I'll get you for this, whorechild! Bitch! I know the authorities!"

Scootaloo was about to say something clever, when she was interrupted by a heavy male voice.

"You only know the authorities because they keep arresting you, Glib, I'd tone down if I were you."

Glib switched glances between Scootaloo and the stallion who was currently invisible to her, then ran away yelling more obscenities.

The Arabian appeared at her door, "I see you're already settling in with the neighbourhood," he remarked.

Scootaloo wasn't sure whether or not to close the door on him. Suddenly, a voice with a heavy accent called him.

"Lazuli! Get off your lazy ass and get back to work ya good for nothin' mule."

"I'll be off then," Lazuli said. He would make an amazing jazz musician.

He disappeared from view and Scootaloo quickly locked the door. She dropped on the floor with her back against the wall.

"Oh Celestia, what have I gotten myself into," she thought aloud, "I could've been having milkshakes at Sugar Cube Corner right now."

So young and oh so naive.

The first three weeks were easy. She visited Babs Seed regularly. The salon was doing really well in Manehattan. Even Photo Finish would pass by to get her mane done. It wasn't a surprise Babs Seed did some of the work on the models Photo would use in her magazines. Scootaloo earned a steady living through running paperwork at the local post office. Every day she would visit Babs on her way to Celestial Square, work until dinner time and grab a snack at the Whinny Palace in Lunar Street. After that she would return home and lock the doors. She never went into 34th Street. Lily Stem and Passiflora were nowhere to be seen. Scootaloo found that a bit disappointing. She would've loved to learn more about the friendly mare.

She kept her apartment nice and tidy. A large contrast with the hallways of the building. Usually, she would enter her room with a red face. The moaning sounds from that one inmate were always audible on her way there. Glib hadn't appeared in a while, but the Arabian she saw multiple times. They never really talked. Lazuli was usually busy carrying around heavy things. Crates with all kinds of goodies, such as jam, salad, dried herbs, cigars and cider.

After the third week was when Scootaloo had to break routine for the first time. She was sitting in the office, organising letters per street when the chief suddenly showed up at her desk. It was a rather chubby mare. She was greyish green and had a curly brown mane. She always carried a stiff posture, distant towards everypony. Her cutie mark was a stamp.

"May I have your attention for a second, Miss Scootaloo?" the mare started.

"Of course chief," the desk worker replied.

"I am afraid Postal Drive has turned in sick today. Could you deliver his batch please?"

The chief was carrying a large brown bag full of letters with her.

"Of course ma'am," Scootaloo answered, "Should I wear a uniform?" She motioned towards the coat rack. Her superior shook her head, "No

time. These need to get delivered ASAP. No time for finding a fitting suit."

Thus, Scootaloo put on her boots and scarf to keep herself warm and trotted outside with the large bag. She was excited. Her first work in the field. Of course, she wasn't planning on being a postmare for long. Her job was a job she was good at, sure, but it wasn't her full potential. Her lack of cutie mark was proof enough. The streets were easy to find. Most letters she needed to deliver were letters to inhabitants of Lunar Street and shop keepers at Discord Drive. She passed all the places with a light hearted mood. Some letters in the letter box, others delivered straight into the hooves of the recipient. All went well, until one address made her cringe.

Red Rock, 34th Street Manehattan, 20

Of course, being the last letter to be delivered, it was already the time of dusk. With a heavy heart and a fear piling up in her throat, she galloped to the written location. Turning around the corner, she could see the street itself for the first time. What caught her eye most were the neon lights. The street was mostly regular looking houses, but some of them had a large neon sign above. The blinds were closed at nearly every window and between the buildings were dark alleyways. One of the buildings with the neon lights was Rocky's Cigarettes and Booze. It was a little night store with various supplies. It was number 20, so Scootaloo assumed this Rocky fellow was Red Rock.

The door made a bell ring as she entered. Scootaloo immediately recognised the lad behind the counter was a Saddle Arabina.

A red one, with a black mane. He didn't put up as much of a friendly face as Lazuli usually did though. No, he looked more like a dirty old man.

"Well well. What brings a girl like you to my store?" Red Rock asked. Scootaloo quickly hoofed over the letter. The faster she could get back to the office, the better. Red Rock took the letter and left it lying on the counter.

He leaned forward a bit, over the counter.

"Would you like to buy something? I have really great good! Straight from Saddle Arabia, actually. Nothing more befitting of a beautiful mare like you."

His voice rang a bell, but Scootaloo couldn't remember where she had heard it before. The creepy shopkeeper licked his lips.

"No thanks," Scootaloo answered, "I really have to get back to the office."

That was a lie. After finishing her roundup, she was supposedly allowed to go home for the rest of the day, provided she would bring back the leather bag the next day of work.

The stallion looked disappointed, but didn't try to stop her. On her way out, Scootaloo could catch a glimpse of him staring at her plot. It wasn't very pleasant.

Outside, Luna had lifted her moon up high already. The street was dark and the neon lights stood out. Scootaloo quickened her pace as she saw a few ponies chatting on her left. Suddenly, a voice called out to her.

"Strange to see a mare like you around these parts, Miss," a raspy low toned voice said, "Should I know you?"

It occurred to Scootaloo walking away in silence was perhaps the wisest thing to do, but the social Ponyvillian in her just couldn't keep from answering a question.

"No sir, I'm just dropping off a letter."

She turned around and could now clearly see the stallion speaking. It was a grey earth pony wearing a grey fedora and a black costume vest. He had a square jaw and broad shoulders.

"You look really nice in those boots," he remarked. Just the kind of remark Scootaloo did not want to hear.

"Thank you," she replied, before turning around and picking up her pace. She was obstructed by another stallion. He had the same style of fashion as the other stallion, but a black hat and a grey vest. His coat was brown. He was somewhat shorter than his friend.

"I think the lady would like to see you," the second stallion said.

"What lady?" Scootaloo asked nervously. She could easily take down one of these jokers, but two? Not so sure.

"Follow me," the first one demanded.

Scootaloo saw no better plan than following. If things got rough, she would still have her hooves to fend them off.They led her to one of the buildings with a neon sign.

69 Club

Next to the door was a large window lit up with pink background. There stood a cherry mare wearing stockings, inviting ponies inside. Normally, Scootaloo would feel shocked by such a thing. Shocked or even disgusted, but this was different. The mare wasn't just standing there, she was dancing. Moving like a wave, standing on her hind legs. It was the first sign of Scootaloo's downfall into a bottomless pit. She stood hypnotised by the movements the dancer could perform. It didn't appeal as sensual or sexual to Scootaloo. No, it was more the refinement of the moves that caught her attention. The detail in the routine, almost like a flight routine by Rainbow Dash or the Wonderbolts, but more reserved, more accentuated.

Stallion number two nudged her shoulder and nodded towards the door. Stallion number one pushed it open and went inside. Scootaloo followed, suddenly a lot more confident about this situation. The building contained some large gambling tables, several round stages and a long bar. The floor was done with red carpet and the walls were purple. Everything was lit by pink purple neon. It all looked pretty futuristic.

At the bar sat a few stallions drinking away their sorrows. The pony behind the counter came to greet them. It was a grey mare. She looked pretty, a natural pretty, but the makeup on her face took a bite out of that. She had a large number 69 on her flank.

"Boomer, Buster, I see you've found a new girl," the mare said.

She looked at Scootaloo with a blissful smile. The figure seemed almost motherly.

"Hello there and welcome to the Sixty Nine Club! My name is Soixante Neuf. Who might you be?"

"S- Scootaloo, ma'am. Is this place usually so-"

"Empty? This day of the week it usually is, yes. You should see it during the weekends. That is when we really get business done," Soixante said.

She walked around Scootaloo with an investigative glare. Suddenly, she poked Scootaloo's flank.

"No cutie mark, I see."

Scootaloo turned her backside away from the mare, "No ma'am. That's why I came to Manehattan."

Now, Soixante was starting to make her feel nervous. It was almost as if the lady expected her to start glowing and spouting prophecies.

"Would you like to try and dance?" Soixante asked, "It can be surprising what your real talents are, sometimes."

The mare looked at her expectantly. Her two muscle men seemed to share her enthusiasm. Scootaloo felt she should run all of a sudden.

"I'd love to, but I really have to get home now. Maybe some other time?" she said, before making her way to the door.

"Fine," Soixante replied, "If you change your mind, you know where to find us. We always welcome new ponies to our family."

Scootaloo shuddered as she left the door. She wanted to try the dancing. She wanted to be able to do what the mare at the window was doing, but something felt off. It seemed vaguely like one of those pleasure houses Twilight had described once. Added to that, Soixante Neuf had seemed so intimidating, so trusting. it just didn't feel natural.

Behind the counter, Soixante counted her bits.

The stallion before her, some nameless drunk, lifted his head from his puddle of spilt alcohol.

"Is she -hic- coming back? She's pretty."

Soixante grinned and put away the bits.

"Of course she is. They always come back."