Masks, and Those Who Wear Them
Metal crunched into newspaper.
Newspaper slid into cardboard.
Cardboard stacked atop more cardboard atop wood.
“I just don’t get it,” one mare said. She brought a light teal hoof up to brush back her dark sienna mane, and her wings ruffled. Her crow’s feet looked somehow deeper now than they had just minutes before. “I just don’t get it.”
The other mare grumbled, her own wings flicking their orange feathers outward. She kept her eyes on her shelf and her desk, shoving the next trophy – bronze – into the next scrap of paper, into the next box, onto the next open patch of the cart by the door.
From her spot on the now otherwise bare single size bed, the older mare said, “Where did I go wrong?”
The younger mare slammed the next box down.
The older mare’s blue eyes snapped over. “Oh, what?” she said, her tone a challenge. “What?”
“Stop,” the younger one said in her scratchy voice. She turned, staring hard back. “This sucks enough.”
The other huffed, brows knitting. “Did I raise you to use words like that?”
“Oh,” the younger uttered coldly, “we’re saying you raised me, now?” She leaned against the desk. “I don’t remember seeing you around much.”
“How—” The older shot up from the bed, her wings rigid. “How dare you!” She stomped up to the younger mare – every inch her equal in height – and stared her down, saying, “All I did to keep us together after—”
“Big freaking martyr!” scoffed the younger, gesticulating a hoof at the other mare. “Worked so long and hard so her poor, ungrateful little daughter could grow up spending every freaking day completely freaking alone.”
“Whether you admit it or not,” the older mare said, jabbing a hoof at the younger’s chest, “you know everything was for your sake. So you could grow up in a real home.” She swept the hoof around the dorm room, at its empty closet and empty drawers and empty walls. “So you could take this five thousand–bit vacation.”
Wings spread fully and face going red, the younger mare spat, “Get out.”
The older stood a moment, and her knitted brows softened to utter neutrality. She started towards the hall.
“Hey,” said the younger mare as the other passed. Her wings tucked back to her sides.
The other kept moving. She passed the threshold.
“Hey!” the younger tried again. She stuck her head out into the hall. “You know I can’t fly all this junk back!”
“Well, Scootaloo,” the older mare called over her shoulder, “I guess that means you’re walking home.”
Masks
and Those Who Wear Them
by BigMacShrugs
“Welcome back!” they all yelled – them and the banner.
Sugarcube Corner was everything it had always been. Any time Scootaloo had visited Ponyville over the past three years, there either hadn’t been time or hadn’t been a good reason for partying, but now the confetti’d been busted out – there wasn’t a mane or punch bowl free of it in the house. At the thought of punch, Scootaloo raised her glass to her lips.
…Yep, just punch. It was childish, everywhere she looked – pinkness and party games, sweets and singing. But that didn’t stop it from feeling realer than any party she had gone to in all that time away.
Cutting through the chatter at the edges of Scootaloo’s attention, a warm body pressed against her side, and a leg wrapped around her shoulders. She turned her head just as Apple Bloom said, “Welcome home, Scoots.”
“Thanks, Bloom.” Scootaloo smiled, taking in the sight of the earth pony – the ponytail was new, tied up with the same old bow. She set the punch down and wrapped her own hoof around her friend. “How you been?”
“Fine,” Apple Bloom said, shaking her head. “Busier than ah’ve ever been before.”
“Farm?” Scootaloo let go, grabbing another sip of her drink.
Stepping back herself and nodding, Apple Bloom said, “Lookin’ after a whole third ’a the orchard now.” She chuckled. “Applejack doesn’t want me messin’ with the rest of the place’s mojo just yet, but that third’s all mine ta try stuff out on.”
“Grats,” Scootaloo said, her smile going plastic. That was as good an opening as she’d get. “Hey, d’you think you could use a spare h—”
Apple Bloom bumped her flank against Scootaloo’s. Grin in her voice, she said, “Had a feelin’ you’d ask. ‘A course there’s work on the farm for ya, Scoots. Till yer back on yer hooves, anyway.”
Scootaloo let out a breath. “That means a ton, Bloom.”
“Aw,” Apple Bloom said, waving a hoof, “don’t even think ’a thankin’ me. After all…” Her eyes all but glinted. “Ya start tomorrow at dawn.”
Apple Bloom’s predatory smile held for moment, but then the pair snickered helplessly, holding each other again.
Coming out of it, Apple Bloom said, “Nah, ah’ll be nice an’ give ya the weekend first.” Her eyes moved off, and she patted Scootaloo on the back before starting away. “Have a good party, Scoots.”
“Yep!” Scootaloo called. She looked off in the direction her friend had and saw an approaching Twilight Sparkle.
It might’ve been her imagination, but the princess looked a little taller than when Scootaloo had seen her last – no less a goober, though, with that sweet, cheesy smile.
Twilight stopped a polite distance off. “Hi, Scootaloo,” she said. Her eyes shifted away for an instant, and Scootaloo almost missed it. “So, um, how are you doing?”
Ugh. So the mare thought she had to walk on eggshells. Did Scootaloo look broken, or something?
“I’m good,” Scootaloo said.
“Great!” Twilight said, but she was frowning. “It’s just, um, if I was dr—” Her eyes widened, and she gave a poor excuse for a cough. “If I was leaving school, well…”
“I know,” Scootaloo said, forcing a smirk. “You’d be a freaking wreck.”
Twilight gave a much realer cough. “Yes,” she managed after.
Stepping forward, Scootaloo put a hoof on the older mare’s shoulder. “I’m not you,” she said, like a promise. “I’ll get by.”
Twilight nodded, still frowning, and walked off.
The party was a small one, on the whole. No family and all friends. Still, as Scootaloo leaned up against the punch table and took stock, there were some big absences.
She wanted to see Sweetie Belle most out of anypony in the world, right then. Apple Bloom was the best consolation prize she could ask for, but Sweetie could make any crappy situation look like it was just the start of something better. Scootaloo wouldn’t even have to ask – Sweetie would start making her feel better, no motivation needed past it just being how she is.
But there were other things she was than Scootaloo’s best friend, and those other things had her off on tour. Scootaloo could be happy that of the two them, at least Sweetie had managed to become a success.
She shook her head. It wasn’t the time to be getting all sad, not with just about everypony she was close with hanging around.
And hey, there was a bright side. Of all the ponies that could’ve missed the party—
The shop’s doorbell rang. Scootaloo turned.
She cursed under her breath.
The second Rainbow Dash walked through the door, she locked eyes with Scootaloo. “Heya, squirt! Welcome back,” she said, gliding easily over. “Sorry I’m late – overslept.”
As her old idol came in for a landing, Scootaloo said, “Um, hey, Rainbow Dash!” She rubbed a hoof through her mane. “Nopony said you were in town. I figured you’d have to be in Cloudsdale or something.”
Rainbow shook her head. “We can train wherever we want in the off season.” She looked around, Scootaloo following her gaze to all the little co-mingling pockets of happy friends, and she added, “You can guess what place I always pick.”
Scootaloo smiled and nodded.
And… what now? The decorations were nice. Could they talk about the decorations? Scootaloo started to open her mouth.
“So,” Rainbow Dash said, “um.” Her legs were twitching, Scootaloo saw. Like she didn’t want to be standing – or like she didn’t want to be standing there. Rainbow went on, “Gettin’ some weird vibes here.”
Scootaloo bit her cheek, then said, “Sorry. Guess it’s…” Come on, come on. Guess it’s what? “Guess it’s just been a while?”
Rainbow smiled, and Scootaloo nearly let out a relieved breath.
“Yeah,” Rainbow said. She perked up, eyes shifting about, and leaned in. “By the way…”
Scootaloo leaned in as well, until her ear was inches from Rainbow’s mouth.
Speaking low, Rainbow continued, “Me, Pinkie, and Apple Bloom wanted us four to go have, like, an afterparty once this is done.”
Scootaloo’s ear twitched. “Um,” she whispered back, “I’m not sure if—”
“C’mon,” said Rainbow, voice one skin-deep layer above a whine. “We all missed your twenty-first, and we wanna make up for it!”
Suddenly, Scootaloo’s throat felt very dry. On top of everything, getting flat drunk – or whatever way ponies got at an afterparty – was probably the worst thing she could do right then.
But… Well, if Bloom would be there…
Four tinks and a heavy thunk rang out over the conversation and distant music.
The waitress said cheerfully, “Enjoy!” She set the empty tray on her back before disappearing into The Red Clover’s dim atmosphere.
In the booth, Pinkie Pie leaned bodily past Rainbow Dash to take hold of her highball. At a glance, the layered thing inside it looked more like part of an ice cream cake than a drink – the ‘Pinkie Special’, she’d actually called it when they’d ordered, and it came with a spoon. Back in place and smiling broadly, she grabbed a salt shaker from beside the wall and tossed it to the side.
Rainbow caught it expertly in her wing. Before Scootaloo could blink, Rainbow had licked and salted up an ankle. Her free wing grasped the lime slice balanced on one of a pair of shot glasses set out before her, and another blink later, she’d licked the ankle again, downed the shot, and stuffed the lime in her mouth. Scootaloo could see her shiver from across the table.
Chuckling, Apple Bloom passed over Scootaloo’s glass, keeping for herself a wood tankard of what had sounded like the hardest hard cider possible. She didn’t seem to hesitate to start gulping it down.
Scootaloo just had a pint of heather ale. That had sounded nice on paper – and she liked how it sort of looked and smelled like honey – but now that it was in front of her… Kinda boring, really. Fact that it was apparently a Ponyville-brewed thing didn’t help. At least it was cheap.
Licking her puckered lips, Rainbow Dash set her shot glass forcefully down, crumpled lime slice set inside. “Hey,” she said, looking at Apple Bloom. “I love cider as much as the next mare – unless the next mare’s you or your sister, I mean – but why do you always get it?”
Apple Bloom, muzzle deep in her tankard, held up a hoof.
Scootaloo eyed all three of her friends. “Do you guys go out like this a lot?”
“Yep!” Pinkie Pie said, coming up from her drink with a frothy moustache. Like, an actual, full-bodied handlebar moustache of cream or foam or something. She licked her face clean and went on, “At least once a week, when Dashie’s in town.”
Apple Bloom set down her tankard – it sloshed like there was less than a third left – and wiped her mouth on a hoof. “There ain’t a better drink in town, Rainbow,” she said firmly. “’Scuse me fer havin’ taste buds.”
Rainbow sniggered.
“So,” Scootaloo asked, “not with Rarity or Applejack or anyone?” She took a sip of her ale. Little sweet, little sharp. Not awful.
Pinkie shook her head. “Twi and ’Shy don’t drink, like, ever,” she said, sighing a little. “Rarity doesn’t like the kinda places we go. Applejack—”
Rainbow Dash cut in, “Screw drinking with AJ.”
“Hey!” Bloom said, but her only half-scolding tone and her neutral face made it seem like she wasn’t actually disagreeing.
A little more ale downed, Scootaloo asked, “Why?”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “She used to be good for a drinking contest, but the more I drank with her, the more I realized…” She shut her eyes, cleared her throat, and in a freakishly perfect voice, continued, “‘Rainbow, if ya keep – hic – drinkin’ like – hic – like that, then come mornin’, y’all’re gonna be findin’ yerself deader than the – hic – than the stench ya call yer breath.’”
Pinkie Pie and Apple Bloom went into fits of giggles. Scootaloo just went back to her drink.
“It’s crazy,” Rainbow said as she salted her ankle up again. “The mare can be completely freaking blasted and still come off straight edge. That gets un-fun pretty quick.”
With the other shot, Rainbow took the lime slice in wing and tossed it into the air before licking her hoof and downing the glass. She angled her head up… and the lime landed squarely on the table.
Pinkie and Bloom giggled that much more.
Rainbow coughed hard, and said in a weak voice, “Five second.” She leaned in and grabbed the lime slice between her teeth.
“Having fun, huh?” the voice of the waitress sounded, just as the mare herself reappeared beneath the light of the booth’s overhanging lamp. “You girls want another round?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Apple Bloom said as her laughter died back. She pushed her empty-sounding tankard off to the side. “Same fer me.”
“Ooh!” Pinkie grabbed hold of her spoon and set about shoveling the… syrup? Whatever it was that remained of her ‘drink’ down her throat. She held the glass out for the waitress to take, and singsonged, “Not sure! Something real big and re~eal fruity…”
Rainbow spat her drained lime into the empty shot glass and slid both glasses over. “Get me…” She licked her lips, eyes far away. Then she brought her forehooves up like she was grasping the air, and said, “Get me a luscious, honkin’ pair of Angel’s Teats.”
Pinkie picked her giggling back up where she’d left off.
Rainbow’s eyes came back into focus. “Vodka and Tabascaballo sauce kind, I mean,” she said as she turned to the waitress. “Not the pansy kind.”
“Double ooh!” Pinkie Pie said through the snorts. “Pinkie wants the pansy kind, please.”
Scootaloo looked down to her half-full pint, and back up to the waitress’s expectant smile. “I’m set for now, thanks.”
Empties secure on her back, the waitress walked off again, saying, “Back in a tic.”
Scootaloo took another few sips.
The others were just sitting – or, Rainbow was kind of lying back, hooves behind her head, and the other others were just sitting.
“So hey,” Pinkie said, eyes on Scootaloo. She had that arched brow, wet-eyed look on her face that she gets sometimes, when she’s clearly trying hard to come off more caring or serious than normal. “We didn’t drag you out tonight or anything, right, Scootaloo?”
Wow, um. Scootaloo said quickly, “Nah, no way. I’m just, um…” She bit her tongue. “I mean, what makes you ask that?”
Pinkie shrugged. “Just doesn’t seem like you wanna be here that much.” She frowned. “Didn’t seem like you wanted to be at your party much, either, actually…”
Scootaloo stared down at her drink.
“C’mon, Pinkie,” Rainbow said. “You know your parties aren’t for everypony.”
Shaking her head, Scootaloo said, “That’s not it.” She looked back up to Pinkie. “The party was really nice. Thank you.”
Pinkie gave half a smile.
Scootaloo rubbed her forehooves together. “I’m just not feeling my best right now, is all,” she said, almost cringing at how down she sounded. Forcing her voice firm, she added, “I’ll be fine.” She felt a sudden warmth as Apple Bloom leaned in and put a hoof around her shoulder.
Bloom said, “Any time you wanna talk…”
Scootaloo smiled, touching her hoof to Bloom’s. “Yeah.”
“Aww,” Pinkie Pie practically crooned, letting out a toothy grin.
Apple Bloom gave Scootaloo a squeeze and let go.
A moment of pretty comfortable silence later – minus the music still thumping away in the other room – and the waitress showed back up. “Here you go, girls.” She started laying out the drinks, the first in a small fishbowl glass which was still pretty freaking big, and she said, “Ah… I hope that one’s not too much.”
It made its way over to Pinkie Pie. The thing was filled with a cloudy red-pink liquor (‘liqueur’?), covered with a thick layer of what looked like straight cream, and a mound of whipped cream floating in the middle. A bright red preserved cherry sat atop it all, completing the picture of… a very angry nipple on a supremely fluffy breast.
Drool already dripping down her chin, Pinkie gasped out, “It’s perfect.”
Apple Bloom didn’t wait for her next tankard of cider to hit the table before grabbing hold of it, instead just taking it right off the waitress’s hoof with a nod.
“Yiss,” Rainbow said as her pair of shots came down. Vodka and Tabascaballo sauce alright – just clear liquor with a thin red film overtop.
Scootaloo… went back to her beer, still not empty.
The waitress gave the table a wink, and she said, “I guess I better check back soon, huh?” She trotted off to a chorus of subdued chuckles.
Apple Bloom let her already half-finished cider meet the tabletop, and she eyed Rainbow’s shots. She smirked.
“What?” Rainbow Dash asked, apparently catching the look.
“Nothin’,” Bloom said lightly. “Just, yer really arguin’ mah taste point for me, ain’tcha?”
Rainbow sat up straighter, saying, “Hey now.” One hoof reached for a shot glass. “This here is a refined, sensuals— Er, what’s the word?” Her face scrunched up. “It’s hot.”
A snerk left Apple Bloom’s snout. “It’s hot sauce.”
“Nah, nah.” Rainbow softly swirled the glass, and the sauce flowed up and caught in streaks against the rim. “It’s hot hot, passion-y.” She brought her head down as the vodka settled, and added just above a whisper, “Gotta treat your angel right, don’tcha?”
Rainbow snaked her tongue out and danced it along the inner rim, wicking the sauce away without so much as rippling the drink. She leaned in closer now, and delicately closed her teeth around the glass. The mare brought her head straight up, taking the vodka in one gulp that slid visibly down her throat.
Dropping the glass back to the table, Rainbow gave a soft hiss. “Do it well and she’ll bite you back good.”
…Scootaloo felt her wings twitch.
Pinkie Pie came up from her fishbowl, her lips ringed white, and bumped shoulders with Rainbow. “Tease,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Leaning back in, Rainbow kissed the mouth of the other glass, and Scootaloo saw the mare’s tongue reach in and lap the shot out. She broke the ‘kiss’ with an exaggerated, “Mwah.”
“Ah stand corrected,” Apple Bloom said, hefting her tankard up like she was toasting. “It ain’t just taste buds. There ain’t an ounce ’a taste in ya, period.”
Rainbow Dash brought a shot glass up and tapped it to the tankard, and she called, “Hear, hear!”
Even Scootaloo let out a laugh at that – she drowned it in the last of her beer.
Apple Bloom had just swigged the rest of her cider when familiar hoofsteps sounded once again.
“Another?” the waitress said.
Pinkie Pie, with her pinkened cream goatee sliding slowly down her face, gazed down at her not even half-empty glass. She smacked her forehooves to her cheeks, shook her head hard, and said, “Watch my drink, guys. I’m gonna go dancing.”
With that, she flopped her way over Rainbow’s lap and out of the booth. Past the waitress, who’d had to scramble out of the way.
As the wide-eyed waitress turned back to the table, Apple Bloom said, “’Nother for me, sure.”
A moment slipped by. Why wasn’t Rainbow order— Oh. The mare had moved over to be just across from Scootaloo, and was staring right at her.
“Um.” Scootaloo’s eyes moved between Rainbow and the waitress, and down to her empty pint. None too sure, she said, “Uh, I think I’ll just go for a soda? Like a birch beer, if you’ve got that?”
But Rainbow shook her head. “C’mon, Scoots,” she said, sounding almost disappointed past the giddiness. “Pinks’s right – you’re kinda uptight right now. Trust me, you’re gonna feel a lot better if ya relax.”
Scootaloo frowned, saying, “I really don’t think it’s what I need right—”
“C’mon,” Rainbow said, half forceful and half a whine. “It’s just your friends here. You’re gonna be fine.”
Bloom leaned in, brow low. “Rainbow, if she says she don’t want to…”
Hooves raised, Rainbow backed up. “Hey,” she said, “I just think she’ll have a good time if she lets herself.”
Scootaloo grit her teeth. Rainbow wasn’t wrong. There was a lot to be said for just letting go of the reins sometimes. It would definitely be easier.
Other hoof… thinking like that was probably half of why she was back home now. Not in terms of drinking, really, but habits are habits.
Her friends were there, though – Bloom would keep an eye out at the very least. If there was a safe place to give up some control, then this…
Yeah, screw it.
“Gimme whatever Rainbow’s getting.”
Scootaloo could hear her skull.
Hear it… It buzzed like blinding fog, and it made a dull thumping sound over and over, her eyelids pinching tighter closed each time.
“Nnf,” she forced out through her teeth.
She cracked her eyes open, and the buzzing got worse. Moved to her throat.
It was daytime – the light was definitely sunlight. Too… blazing. Too scalding freaking bright to be anything else. A room came into focus in blues and whites.
Scootaloo’s room was green and brown. And… not clouds.
Something moved on her legs – her breath caught in her throat as she turned. Draped over her back hooves, and dangling half off the other side of the bed, was Rainbow Dash.
Masks, and Those Who Wear Them
The haze cleared, little by little, as adrenaline started pumping – the pounding got so, so much worse, but her mind was starting to move.
Rainbow’s house. Rainbow’s room. Rainbow’s bed.
Rainbow’s sleeping freaking body, partway on top of her.
Rainbow’s… Scootaloo leaned into herself and breathed the air again. Rainbow’s smell. And the smell of booze. And… and sweat. And was that…?
Scootaloo shoved and flapped herself bodily away from Rainbow, right off the bed. She hit the cloud floor painlessly but loudly, with a sound like two high-velocity pillows smacking into each other.
Just as Scootaloo’s head settled back to being only almost unbearable and she’d managed to push herself to her hooves, the bed rustled.
“Wha…? Ack!” Rainbow Dash put a hoof over her eyes and rolled away from the windows – rolled towards Scootaloo. She peeked the squinted, bloodshot little things over their shield, and she said, “Scoo’s?”
Scootaloo opened her mouth. A moment later, it was painful just how aware she was that she hadn’t said a word or moved an inch.
Rainbow dragged the hoof down her face and sat up. “Why’re you here?”
Scootaloo’s heart kicked back into gear, pumping a little fire into her chest. “Yeah,” she asked back, “why am I here, Rainbow?”
Rainbow blinked, face tiredly neutral. “Asked you firs’,” she said. She yawned, tongue doing little contortions in her mouth, and then smacked her lips. “What happened?”
Trying hard but failing to keep her voice level, Scootaloo said, “It looks like you got me drunk and took me back to your place.”
Rainbow stared at Scootaloo a moment. Then her eyes started to widen. Her pupils dilated. She said in a small voice, “What.”
“You got me drunk,” Scootaloo repeated, words quivering now, “and I don’t remember anything after that, but I woke up in bed with you. Smelling like you, and…” She licked her lips, a stale taste like shame in her mouth. She spat, “And me.” Head low, Scootaloo started walking towards the door.
“What,” Rainbow said louder behind her. Wings flapped, coming closer. “Hey, whoa. Hold up, Scootaloo!”
Scootaloo pushed through the door and over to the head of the stairs. She started down.
“What do you think— Do you think we—” Even some distance back, Rainbow’s gulp was audible. “Whatever you think we did, I promise you—”
Scootaloo couldn’t manage to bite back, “Promise me what?” She didn’t stop walking, though, coming off the stairs and into the foyer.
Rainbow Dash glided in to the side and laid her hoof on Scootaloo’s barrel as they moved. “That I’m not like that!”
Scootaloo grit her teeth and shoved the hoof away. The cloudstuff main door creaked softly as she shouldered it open.
Rainbow’s flapping stopped. “Scootaloo!” she called through the doorway.
Head still ringing, Scootaloo came in for a sharp landing – pain shot up her hooves as they hit the cobblestones.
Before her was that old, unexceptional green building. Two stories and thin, looking exactly like many of its neighbors apart from its coat of paint – in color and in the fact that it was starting to chip.
Scootaloo walked to the front door and made her way inside.
The living room couch. She wanted to just go collapse right— She made her way as steadily as she could across the wood of the floor. Past the table, towards the staircase.
A chair screeched backwards in the adjacent kitchen.
“Scootaloo,” her mother said.
Scootaloo stopped walking and let the older mare come.
Her mother had that look – that vague, tired displeasure in her face’s little lines. In a rising voice, like another nail in Scootaloo’s brain, she said, “Is this you just getting back?”
“Yep,” Scootaloo said blankly.
The displeasure on her mother’s face got a lot less vague.
And… Scootaloo started moving again. If her mother was expecting her to keep this conversation going, then—
A hoof grabbed her shoulder. “Hey,” her mother said, “is that all you’ve got to say?”
Scootaloo turned back, grumbling, “Guess that depends on if you’ve got any more questions.”
Her mother took the hoof back and half stomped it to the floor. “Well,” she said in what was a few decibels shy of a neutral tone, “let’s start with what you’re going to do for work. Things are different – you can bet I’m not supp—”
“Working for Bloom,” Scootaloo cut in. “Starting tomorrow.”
“Apple farming, then?” her mother said flatly, and without so much as a twitch of surprise at Scootaloo actually having an answer. “What a perfect use for three years of engineering courses – assuming you were telling me the truth about attending them past the second, I mean.”
Scootaloo could tear her a freaking— Scootaloo started forward again. “I’ll be upstairs.”
“Taking a shower, I hope?” her mother said, toneless still.
Sighing, Scootaloo said, “Yep.”
The nozzle kicked to life, water pattering against the porcelain. Scootaloo set her towel on a stool, pulled the curtain back fully, and stepped in – and reared back, almost slipping.
The showers at her dorm had always warmed up in moments. No such luck now.
Scootaloo got into the end of the tub the icy water wasn’t hitting. Curtain back in place, she leaned her side against the tile of the wall – cold too, but in a calming kind of way.
Screw living there. A month more of her mother treating her like she was some worthless, untrustworthy stranger… That’d drive Scootaloo insane for sure.
Not that she really deserved any kind of trust. Her mother was right – Scootaloo had stopped going to class way before dropping out. That whole last semester was pretty much Scootaloo not admitting to her mother or herself how bad she’d already messed up. Either way, though, her mother obviously wasn’t gonna cut her any slack.
Scootaloo stepped into the water, warmer now, and let it run down the back of her neck.
If she couldn’t handle staying there, what options did she have?
Apple Bloom would take her in in a heartbeat. They even had Granny Smith’s old room free. But… boy would that be pathetic, depending on Bloom’s family for work and a place to sleep – and probably food, too, because they’d all insist on cooking. Short term, it’d be heaven, but long term, no doubt it’d make things weird between Bloom and her. Out of the question.
Maybe Princess Twilight. That castle had to have loads of rooms nopony was using for anything, and Twilight would be happy to help Scootaloo out and let her take one, at least for a while. Probably a good choice for now.
Rain—
Scootaloo smacked her forehead to the wall.
She’d actually let herself forget, even for just a freaking second, what had happened. Or what she thought had happened.
Or, no, what happened was Scootaloo got caught up in the heat of the moment and pretty much accused Rainbow of… No matter what had actually gone down the night before, staying with Rainbow was one hundred percent not an option. Best case, Rainbow didn’t do anything wrong and Scootaloo came off like a complete dork. Worst case, Rainbow did do something wrong, and…
Scootaloo sat down in the tub. Hot water matted her mane and ran down her body in rivulets. Her wings twitched and settled, twitched and settled, sending sprays of droplets out against the wall and curtain.
How likely was it, actually, that they’d had sex?
For years and years, Rainbow Dash had been kind of an on-and-off older sister to Scootaloo. For almost anypony, that’d be enough for Scootaloo to say, ‘No, no way anything happened. Spent the night in bed together, that’s all.’ But Rainbow…
Far as Scootaloo had ever seen, Rainbow acted like just about the biggest horndog around. Maybe it wasn’t fair to think, and up until now she’d never put it together in her head, but it was completely possible that Rainbow – big, popular Wonderbolt – went out to clubs and picked ponies up all the time. Pair of them drunk, Scootaloo might… might just’ve been another pony to her.
And that morning, on top of all the other stuff, Scootaloo smelled like she’d gotten really riled up the night before. Wouldn’t be the first time she’d smelled that way after getting drunk, but waking up next to somepony kind of put it in a new light.
Water sluiced down Scootaloo’s back, down her stomach, pooling at her rump before flowing to the drain.
Just days ago, the thought of sleeping with Rainbow Dash… How would Scootaloo have felt about that? It wouldn’t even have occurred to her.
Rainbow was untouchable – that had always been a step below a natural law. She was the definition of awesome.
But… part of that meant being really, really hot. So confident and strong – maybe not in a way that ever got Scootaloo excited, but definitely in a way that Scootaloo looked up to. Wanted to be like, herself.
A hoof slipped its way between Scootaloo’s hind legs.
It was exciting, that confidence. In whatever state Scootaloo had been last night, Rainbow probably could’ve just strutted up to her and whispered in her ear, “Want to keep this party going at my place?” Scootaloo would have been putty.
They’d fly to Rainbow’s house, Rainbow stealing nibbles of Scootaloo’s neck the whole way up. Scootaloo would get flustered, falter, and the Wonderbolt would grab on and hold her close – carry her up with those wide, powerful wings.
Inside, Rainbow would prance straight up the stairs, rightfully sure that her little friend wouldn’t be able to resist following. She would catch Scootaloo coming through the bedroom’s threshold and plant a kiss on her muzzle.
Scootaloo would be expecting a slow start, but Rainbow’s tongue would trace once across her lips, then neither of them would hold back. Rainbow, a hoof holding firm behind Scootaloo’s head, would reach her tongue into that willing mouth, and the younger’s tongue would rise to meet it. They’d push and slide across each other, all while Rainbow’s hot, needy breath would tickle Scootaloo’s shut eyelids.
Breaking the kiss, Rainbow would suck and nibble Scootaloo’s bottom lip a moment more before asking, “Ready for the good stuff?”
Dripping wet already, and words failing her, Scootaloo would only nod. Her old mentor would lead her by the hoof over to the bed, and they’d climb up onto its perfect, cushy cloudstuff.
She would feel as the bed pressed up and in, meeting her legs and rump with a warm caress. The littler pegasus would lean back into it, letting it envelop her wings and shoulders even as her underside – her heaving belly, her hardening teats – sat soaking up air that felt so chilly now.
But Rainbow would fill the space above her a heartbeat later, planting more kisses on her lips, down her neck, between her fore legs. Rainbow would turn herself around, then, and nestle down into the bed until her chest was flush with Scootaloo’s stomach.
The weight of the other mare pressing down on her, Scootaloo’s eyes would be filled only with the sight of Rainbow’s backside. That rump taut with muscle. That beautiful tail swaying slowly, brushing against Scootaloo’s mane. That coat receding into darker blue skin around Rainbow’s thick, juddering lips, and the red-pink flesh bulging out with each wink.
And then she would feel it – Rainbow’s hooves holding firm against either side of Scootaloo’s own snatch. The bed would jiggle ever so slightly, the only warning before she felt that slick, warm tongue reach out and give her mound an even slathering. Eyes squeezed shut, her lower half would stir and tense, clit heaving out at the perfect moment to meet Rainbow’s soft-textured organ for an electric kiss.
Erect wings beating softly at the air, the bigger pegasus would take the bottom of Scootaloo’s mound into her mouth, then. Suckle at it. Purse her lips and coax out Scootaloo’s clit again – run her tongue around it when it came and turn the pressure up all the more after it left. The younger would gasp sharply as Rainbow started nibbling, teeth pressing gently but insistently against flesh and consciousness both.
The hold of Rainbow’s mouth would disappear, a moment of calm taking its place – just hot breath against wet skin. Scootaloo’s eyes would open to find the same sight as before, but now the other mare’s lips were absolutely glistening. Dribbling juices onto Scootaloo’s chest.
The scent would be overpowering, a thick musk pushing everything else out of her head.
Then she would be jerked from her dizziness as Rainbow began again with a passion – tongue sliding right into Scootaloo’s body. Scootaloo would bite back a moan, and with Rainbow’s scent still muddling her heavy mind, she would lean in…
She would…
The water streamed out off Scootaloo’s brow. Down from her chin. Off from her folded-back ears.
There was something wrong with it all.
She’d never been with a girl, but that probably wasn’t it. Mares were just as hot as stallions. It probably wasn’t the fact that the mare was Rainbow Dash, either – friendship or mentor–protégé relationship or whatever be damned, she could admit that Rainbow really was the hottest mare she knew.
Was it just this whole messed up situation? Did Scootaloo just need a bit of closure?
Scootaloo turned the knobs, squeaking them back until the water was just a trickle from the showerhead.
What would closure even look like here?
Big Mac had pointed down this path, Scootaloo was sure…
She took in a lungful of orchard air and let it out slowly. Bloom would know what happened last night – at least up until Rainbow took Scootaloo from The Red Clover. No doubts about that.
Bloom’d probably have some advice to offer, too. Mare had a great combination of creativity and Apple Family common sense. Which was good, because Scootaloo was utterly out of her dep—
No, no, she was getting worked up again. Scootaloo had herself another deep breath. Every muffled crunch of her hooves into the dirt, every leaf rustling in the breeze, and every bit of warmth from the sun was like a little bit of free therapy. Hay, her head didn’t even hurt anymore. Things were starting to look a little clearer.
Rainbow was a friend. If they’d had sex, well, then they both must have been drunk. They would… Scootaloo would get past it, eventually – be able to forgive. If nothing happened, then Rainbow would understand why Scootaloo had thought something did and made those accusations. They’d be past that, like, tomorrow probably.
All that was left for now was to get some hints about the situation.
Thwack.
Ah, there. “Yo, Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo called. She stepped off from the dirt path and started weaving through the trunks in the direction of the sound. “That you?”
Bloom’s smiling face peeked out from behind a tree just ahead. “Scoots! Ya lookin’ ta start work early?”
“Uh.” Scootaloo gave a weak chuckle. “Nah, sorry.”
Apple Bloom shrugged and started pushing her baskets over to the next tree.
Closing the rest of the distance, Scootaloo looked on as Bloom reared up and kicked that next trunk. Apples rained down, thumping softly into the baskets.
Though… one apple in the nearest basket’s pile was decidedly… blue. Apple Bloom brought a hoof to her chin, but her tight-lipped expression didn’t hint at any confusion – just thought.
Scootaloo shook her head. She said more quietly than she meant to, “So, uh.”
Apple Bloom looked to Scootaloo.
Rubbing one foreleg on the other, Scootaloo shifted her eyes down to the grass at her hooves. “I wanted to ask you about last night.”
“That all?” Bloom let out a snerk. “It was a sight, lemme tell ya.”
“O-oh?” Scootaloo looked back up.
“Y’all were all over each other,” Bloom said, rolling her eyes.
Scootaloo could practically feel the chill as the blood drained from her face.
But Bloom waved a hoof. “Lit’ral-like, ah mean, fallin’ into each other. Silliest thing ah’d seen all week, like y’all were both convinced ya were the responsible one helpin’ the other fly home.” She outright laughed now, adding, “It looked like you were set to win that argument, Scoots. Drunkest ah’d ever seen that mare.”
“Wait, so…” Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. “So I took her back to her place?”
“Ah reckon so, but what…” Apple Bloom’s eyes narrowed. Tone suddenly joyless, she went on, “What’re ya askin’ a question like that for? Did somethin’…?”
Scootaloo gulped, biting her lip. “I’ve got pretty much no idea if anything happened,” she said, tone half desperate even to herself. “That’s kind of what I’m trying to work out.”
Bloom kept silent a moment, just staring.
Scootaloo gulped again. There was a strange feeling surfacing in her – like her friend’s eyes were saying she might’ve messed up, somehow.
“Scootaloo,” Bloom said at last, “have ya ever actually seen how Dash gets when she’s liquored up?” One flash of the earlier teasing tone came back into her voice as she quickly added, “When ya weren’t too black-out soused yerself t’ remember it, ah mean.”
“Um, yeah, I have.” Scootaloo rubbed a hoof behind her head. “I remember how the night started off. Rainbow was slobbering all over shot glasses, pretending they… weren’t shot glasses.”
Tsking, Apple Bloom shook her head – not gravely, really, but it certainly wasn’t a happy motion. “That’s Dash buzzed. Pretty much regular Dash, but without even that flimsy excuse fer a sense of shame she’s usually got. When she’s drunk, though, Dash almost ain’t even the same pony – and trust me, last night counted.
“No,” Bloom continued, a frown edging her words, “if anythin’ happened between y’all, ah can guarantee ya she weren’t the one ta make it happen.”
A breeze whistled through the leaves above.
“…What?” asked Scootaloo. Was Bloom… “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? And what do you mean ‘different pony’?”
Sighing, Apple Bloom turned back to the tree. “Drunk Dash,” she said as she marked up the bark with a hoof, “is a softie. Ain’t a better word for it.” She started pushing the emptier baskets over to the next tree.
“‘Softie’?” asked Scootaloo, following – she pushed one basket along herself, just so she wasn’t being useless. “Does she cry a lot or something?”
Apple Bloom shrugged as she nosed baskets into place. “Sometimes.” She turned and took Scootaloo’s basket with an appreciative little smile. “More like she gets all sen’imen’al, though.”
Mid-turn, Apple Bloom slowed and looked back to Scootaloo, and she added heavily, “That went double last night.” Her eyes were studying Scootaloo’s. “Kept goin’ on an’ on. ‘Oh, ah missed ya like crazy, Scoots. Oh, there ain’t nopony around who inspires me like you.’ Minus the accent, plus a lot ’a slurrin’.”
Scootaloo frowned. “So there wasn’t any kinda…” Her wings flicked. “Idunno, dirty talk, or something?”
Shaking her head, Bloom said, “Not a lick of it – just her sayin’ how much she always cared about ya. She ain’t never anythin’ but sweet when she gets that way.” With one more nudge of one more basket, she got into position and bucked the trunk.
A lot of blue apples were mixed in with the reds and yellows falling in this batch. And Scootaloo spied one matte black apple that – unlike all the others – missed and rolled from its basket.
Apple Bloom shot over and crushed it underhoof – Scootaloo reared her head back and brought a wing forward to block the juicey spray. Tone normal like she hadn’t just attacked produce, Bloom continued, “No matter what she says, ah think the real reason she stopped drinkin’ with AJ was ’cause AJ used to tease her about that somethin’ fierce.”
Still frowning, Scootaloo flapped her wing. The flecks of juice – also black – went flying to the ground.
“Y’all, though,” Bloom said, voice grave again. “Y’all were gettin’ kinda dark, Scoots.”
Scootaloo looked up. “How do you mean?”
Bloom started walking off, saying, “Well…”
The pair moved through the trees, sun filtering through overhead.
“Maybe ‘dark’ ain’t quite right.” A cart came into view a few trees away, and Bloom made a beeline towards it. “Hay, half the time ya seemed happy – or eager, at least. That was when Rainbow didn’t get ya talkin’ about yerself.
“Whenever that happened, though…” she went on, coming up to the cart. It was full of more baskets, empty, which she started stacking up. “Ah guess ah’d say ya just went all blank. Talked about yerself or how life was goin’ like ya… like ya didn’t wanna keep goin’.”
Scootaloo’s eyes widened. “I sounded…” she said. No way. “You’re saying I sounded s—”
“At least for a bit,” Bloom cut in, “yeah.” She set a stack of baskets on her back and, with a half-empty smile, looked to Scootaloo. “Ah think Rainbow got through to ya, though, with all her praisin’ and such. Ya still seemed sad by the time y’all left, but…”
Bloom moved closer to Scootaloo and laid a hoof on her shoulder. “Better than nothin’.”
The trip to Princess Twilight’s had given Scootaloo some quality thinking time. The trip back ‘home’ even more, and with the happy news that she had a room at the castle for as long as she wanted – she’d actually had to talk Twilight down from giving her a whole corridor.
More trips back and forth, a cart strapped to her barrel. More thinking.
It was dark out now, and Scootaloo was in her old house, laying on her bed – one of the last bits of furniture in her newly barren room that she still needed to move tomorrow.
Wind beat against the panes of her windows, and she let out a sigh.
Bloom had given Scootaloo some advice, and the bulk of it was to talk to Rainbow. That had already been her plan, but…
It was a weird thought, but there’d been a kind of… security? A security when Scootaloo thought she’d been the victim of the situation. It would have been awful that she might’ve been taken advantage of – awful – but whatever relationship she had with Rainbow after that would have been on her own terms. Forgiveness, or even just the chance of it, would have been entirely hers to offer.
Sometime in all that thinking she’d done, it struck her that a part of her had actually been looking forward to that.
No such luck, though. Apple Bloom was completely sure that, as drunk as Rainbow had been, the mare couldn’t have brought herself to molest a fly. If there was any forgiving to be done – even if it was just for the misunderstanding – it looked like it was going to be in Rainbow’s hooves.
Rainbow Dash was untouchable, and Scootaloo had let herself forget that today. Scootaloo’s skin itched. After she was settled into the castle tomorrow, she’d go ask Rainbow not to hate—
Thunk.
Scootaloo shot up in bed.
That was the wall of her room, from outside the house. She got out from under her covers and moved quickly to the window.
Scootaloo undid the latch and pushed the glass outwards. The window collided with something mid-swing.
“Ouch,” Rainbow Dash mumbled. Scootaloo saw she was hovering there – or trying to. The mare’s wings were flapping out of sync, and she kept rising up and dipping back down.
The air smelled of gin.
“Hey.” Rainbow ducked under the window and came up to the sill, which she gripped haphazardly. Even though her wings were still flapping. “Hey, Scoo’s.”
Shutting her eyes, Scootaloo said, “Hi, Rainbow.”
“Hey,” Rainbow said again, pronouncing the word like it was a plea. “Scoo’s, hey, I’m come— I messed it up, and I’m come here to say that.”
Scootaloo opened her eyes back up. She grabbed Rainbow’s hoof and pulled the mare inside, then she went and yanked the window closed.
“Thanks,” Rainbow said, wobbling where she stood. Almost a whisper, she added, “So nice to me…”
Scootaloo could see in the moonlight that Rainbow’s cheeks were already wet. “Rainbow,” she said, “you didn’t mess anything up.”
Rainbow Dash shook her head – and nearly fell to the side. “Yes, nuh-uh. Messed it up.”
“You didn’t,” Scootaloo said, going over and pushing Rainbow softly down into a sitting position. She sat down herself. “I did.”
Rainbow stared, blinking.
Mouth twisting up, Scootaloo said, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Rainbow. Understand?”
Another few blinks, then Rainbow’s head dipped, and she rolled onto her side. A silent moment later, she started snoring.
As the lump of pony twitched and whimpered, Scootaloo sighed softly. She recognized that she’d kind of driven Rainbow to this, if the poor mare cared what Scootaloo thought even half as much as Bloom said. She reached a hoof out and brushed it against Rainbow’s mane.
Scootaloo’s eyes moved between Rainbow, the bed, and the cold wood floor. She stood up, then she reached down and started lifting.
