Scootaloo held back a laugh as the uniformed stallion lifted his hoof high above the counter and brought it down with a heavy thud to stamp her ticket. “You’re not from Ponyville, are you?”
“I’m fresh from Canterlot, Ms. Scootaloo,” he answered with a smile. “The last guy here retired a few months ago. What gave me away?”
“Oh, it was something about that stamp.” Old Mr. Booth had never punished a ticket like that before. Her hoof twitched, but she resisted mimicking him. It seemed a childish thing to mock him for. “It just looked so official.”
“I suppose I’ll have to adapt, huh?” The ticket agent chuckled and stashed her ticket into a folder. “Anyway, you are officially booked back home to Fillydelphia. Departure time is eleven o’clock sharp on Monday morning. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
She rocked the saddlebags over her back. “Could I drop these off here until I get a room squared away?”
“Of course! You know, you’re not the only pony in this town to leave their bags.”
Indeed she did. She’d never think of it in Fillydelphia, but in Ponyville a set of bags left at the train station were as good as in a locked safe. Mr. Booth had made a point of keeping an eye on his platform, and if a pony dropping off their bags early made planning their trip a little easier, then that’s what he let them do. She was sure Mr. Canterlot made plenty of friends by doing the same.
Scootaloo shrugged off her bags, frowning at the purple lightning bolt pinned there for anyone to see. She pulled it off and dropped it inside. Safe and anonymous. Business first, meet and greet second. She hoped.
A jolt of pain shot through her wings, and Scootaloo spread them out to ease the tension. The doctor had said her wings might bother her until her underdeveloped muscles caught up with the rest of her body, but she never figured the issue would linger years after flying for the first time.
Maybe if her heart spent the rest of the day beating as fast as it was now, it would pump enough blood through her wings to stretch them out for good.
That could very well be an option. She watched the train lurch forward and start its slow chug away from Ponyville’s station, leaving her behind with only her bags and a few days to kill before her ticket out was any good.
She took a slow breath in. And she turned around.
Nopony even looked twice at her. Scootaloo let her breath out. Three years gone, but Rainbow Dash still kept her arrival a secret, just like she asked. It would be rude to return the favor by showing up late to the private meeting she had asked for herself. Scootaloo took off, her wings finally put to the instinct they had called for.
The sight of Ponyville before her looked as timeless as a painting. Twilight’s castle towered over the landscape, and that was still the only change to her hometown she could remember. For the briefest moment, in spite of how much she loved her wings, she felt the temptation to land and sprint through all the shortcuts of side streets and alleyways her legs remembered.
She wondered how many of the other pegasi in town bothered to memorize the webwork of their home’s map, or if they knew how many strides it took on a gallop to jump over Berry Punch’s fence. She also wondered how many of them knew what Berry Punch was willing to throw out of her window to chase off any fillies trying to save a few seconds’ time by running through her backyard.
Her wings kept her on track, however. Not only on track, but out of sight and higher than the cruising altitude she remembered most pegasi kept. The perspective clued her in on what changes she had missed over her absence: not to Ponyville itself, but the ponies that made it come alive. Roseluck kept her post at her flower stall, but now a tiny pink filly stuck close to her legs and tended to a small toy cart nearby. Further up the road, she spotted Snips and Snails struggling with a gigantic crate that had three diamonds stamped on top of it.
Sugarcube Corner had stayed the same—a bastion of decadent sugary sweetness in defiance of the wholesome gauntlet of fresh fruits and vegetables she had been forced to walk as a filly—but Pound and Pumpkin Cake stood outside its doors rather than playing within. Each wore a sign around their neck, shouting out to the ponies passing by and waving their hooves to the door.
Scootaloo licked her lips. Fillydelphia had plenty of dessert shops, but she had never found a chocolate shake as cold or chocolatey or tasty as Mr. Cake’s. She hadn’t splurged on anything during the trip, and now she was so close to the shake of her dreams, the shredded chocolate sprinkling down on the dollop of whipped cream—
She shook her head clear and kept moving. Rainbow Dash first. She’d have to hurry just to make their meeting on time.
Sailing over the old schoolhouse, Scootaloo kept her eyes on the approaching orchard beyond it. She tried her best to ignore the empty schoolyard where she had spent her last happy morning in Ponyville. Miss Cheerilee’s voice—
Mrs. Cheerilee, according to Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle’s last visit to Fillydelphia. Scootaloo smiled and shook her head. Mrs. Cheerilee must have finally taken the advice she gave her class on their graduation day. Her voice had cracked several times during her speech, and she recovered from each by saying how proud she was of the young mares and stallions they had grown into, like those words were the only thing that could stop her tears.
That day still lingered in Scootaloo’s memory. All of it. The smell of the freshly cut grass. Diamond Tiara crying on Silver Spoon’s shoulder after the ceremony was over. Cheerilee’s final lesson to her students, that it was up to them and only them to write the next chapter of their lives. She had always wondered if Cheerilee used the same script year after year, or if she wrote a new one for each class. Maybe she could ask when she stopped by to say hello.
Scootaloo followed the familiar trail cutting through the Apples’ farm. She could make out several recent sets of little hooves in the dirt, each one spaced out like a wild gallop towards the schoolhouse behind her. A new generation of Cutie Mark Crusaders, literally following in the footsteps of their founders. The school’s bell tower chimed the hour as if it could sense her memory of frantic races against time.
The path of hoofsteps led straight back to the old clearing, to the very foot of the clubhouse walkway. Scootaloo dropped by the trees’ edge, and took a deep sniff of the air. The scent of fresh apples wafted through her nose.
It smelled like Thursdays. Countless hours they had spent together lounging in the warm afternoon sun before the night set in, jotting down ideas to be executed at the sound of the final bell the next day. First to find their own cutie marks, then for others, and even plans for movies or parties or dances as they got older.
She’d have to buy apples next Thursday. Or Tuesday, and spread them around her apartment to let the smell permeate for a couple days. If she could find them fresh enough.
Scootaloo rested a hoof on the plank, easily covering one of the patches stained into the wood from the unthinkable combination of dirt, sweat, and the stars only knew what else all the hooves might have been left behind over the years. The wood was remarkably smooth to her eye, considering she had been gone for so long. Somepony had cared enough to sand away any splinters that jutted out while she was away.
It matched her memory of the last time she had climbed this ramp. Her hoof might have been a hair smaller back then, but she recalled how she made that climb—head filled with determination instilled by Miss Cheerilee’s final address, and perhaps filled with a little of the hard cider Applejack had let her and the other Crusaders sample at their party. She had truly felt that was the night to close one chapter of her life and start a new one side by side with the pony that had meant more to her than any other in her life.
Scootaloo recalled galloping down the ramp scant minutes later—the tears in her eyes and stabbing pain in her heart dragging her instincts down to run away like a shamed fool rather than fly like the mare she had become.
Cringing under the memory’s phantom blow, she made her way up. No one answered the clop of her hooves on the wood. Nor was anypony waiting for her when she reached the top. “Fashionably late, I guess.” She sighed.
Her old home away from home had changed more than she thought. Gone were the posters of the Wonderbolts and pop stars of years past, replaced with hoofball players and a grim-faced stallion looking away from an explosion in the background. Apple Bloom’s podium had been removed, and an old rusty filing cabinet stood in its place.
But something brought a wry smile to her face. There, off to the side, was the white chalk circle of the thinking spot, returned to its rightful place long after Sweetie Belle had erased it for “clogging up space” one spring morning. The Cutie Mark Crusaders, still alive and well.
Her wings ached.
Scootaloo grunted and started a slow walk around the room. She made a mental note to pull Apple Bloom aside for a few tips on how she ran her branch of the Crusaders, but first things first. Three words. This whole trip to Ponyville would be wasted if she didn’t pony up and say three words.
“Hey, Squirt.”
A soft laugh escaped her lips, and she turned to Rainbow Dash at the door. “I’m still Squirt, huh?” She stood tall, stretching her neck as far as she could, and guessed she got an inch or so taller than Rainbow. “I think I’ve got you now. Not far behind, at least.”
Rainbow straightened herself out to mirror her. “Eh, if you say so. I saw you’ve kept practicing with your wings at least. You looked good out there, Scootaloo.”
“You’re not looking so bad—wait, out there?” Scootaloo narrowed her eyes. “Were you following me?”
Rainbow shrugged, but her grin screamed nothing but smugness. “No pegasus ever thinks to look up when they fly.” She waved a hoof around the room. “I figured you could use a minute.”
Scootaloo nodded. “Yeah. It’s, uh... different. Ponyville looks okay, though.”
“It’s Ponyville,” Rainbow said, stepping inside. “Remind me to tell you when Twilight dragged us to her castle for Local History Day one year. All the slides, Scootaloo. All the slides. The town really hasn’t changed all that much.”
“Neither have you.” Scootaloo forced a smile, but it came up all too genuine as Rainbow stepped closer. “Awesome as ever.”
Rainbow still walked with an effortless grace that Scootaloo wasn’t sure she knew she had, each step carrying all the confidence Scootaloo wished for herself. Her mane hung in that Tartarus-may-care mess that seemed to come only from hitting every cloud in sight on her morning fly around town. Her legs rippled in the sunlight streaming from the window as the firm muscles under the skin moved with—
Her eyes still held that glint of a smirk all their own when she caught somepony staring red-handed.
Scootaloo blushed and looked away.
Rainbow walked past her without a comment and rapped a hoof against the cabinet. “So Apple Bloom’s really got a hang of this Crusader thing. She’s got almost every colt and filly in town signed up, but AJ says she only lets a few of them hang around here. The... uh, somethings.”
“‘Supreme Confidants’ she calls them,” Scootaloo said, snorting. “She told me and Sweetie how hard it was to keep track of every kid when she’s helping out on the farm, so a few members got tapped to be the leadership.”
“That was it. Supreme Confidants. Knew it was something like that.”
Scootaloo walked to the window and ran a hoof over the smooth paint on the wall. She shook her head. “I don’t know how she does it all. Neither does Sweetie, honestly. It’s always the farm first and the Crusaders second when we talk to her, but she’s recruiting kids, keeping them active, and making sure everything here stays cleaned up. It’s more than both of us have done combined.”
She sighed and continued, “Sweetie’s getting run ragged up in Canterlot ever since... Rarity’s old partner, whatever her name was, ever since she left. She barely takes singing gigs anymore, much less have the energy to start up a Crusader chapter with all the business Rarity’s getting up there. I mean, good for Rarity, it’s what she’s always wanted, but Sweetie’s not going to tell her sister No when she needs someone to watch over her dream.”
Rainbow leaned against the window sill next to her.
“You should have seen her with Apple Bloom and me in Fillydelphia! She couldn’t even hang until midnight all weekend, and then she didn’t do anything but sleep like a rock all day. Something has to give, and it better not be her! If Rarity can’t find someone else...”
She bit her lip. Deja vu all over again. Here she was, after inviting Rainbow Dash alone into the clubhouse, and she was spilling her guts like a little kid. And Rainbow stood there, just like last time, with the same grin on her face, waiting for her to go ahead and get it all out.
Her eyes dropped to Scootaloo’s muzzle for a brief, intentional moment.
Scootaloo’s cheeks burned. Rainbow remembered it too. Like she could possibly forget. The night of the party, the senseless rambling Scootaloo had put her through about what it had meant to her to grow up with Rainbow at her side, of learning from and constantly modeling herself after her.
The night she lunged forward and kissed Rainbow Dash flush on the lips.
She clenched her teeth, cringing again under the rush of memories. Rainbow’s hoof digging painfully into her chest before finding the leverage to shove her away. You’re not ready for this, kid. The stone face she kept as she crushed Scootaloo’s heart. Go find someone else. Grinding her into the dirt. Come talk to me when you know what you want.
Scootaloo’s wings shot out and nearly slapped Rainbow Dash across the face. She cursed under her breath, folded them back in spite of the pain, and tried to blink away the stinging shame in her eyes without drawing Rainbow’s attention by wiping them with a hoof.
Birds sang in the distance.
“So tell me about Fillydelphia.”
“It’s good!” Scootaloo rushed out, accepting Rainbow’s peace offering. “The Crusading is... monthly, for a couple months at a time, but I’ve gotten two colts to find their marks so far!”
“Cool. Cool. Apple Bloom said something about you working as a mechanic now?”
“It pays rent,” Scootaloo said, shrugging. “It’s good practice too, fiddling with wagons and carriages all day. I souped up my old scooter with some leftover parts. Might be able to sell it for a few bits now.”
Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “Never thought I’d hear that from you.”
She rubbed her forelegs together. “I... I’m designing a new one. Since I grew up, you know?” Rainbow didn’t need to know that she was socking money away to open her own scooter shop one day. She hadn’t even told Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle her dream. The next chapter of her life. But there was one to close first.
“New scooter, huh?” Rainbow chuckled. “You’ll have to bring it the next time you come back to town. Bet you could catch some sick air with it these days.”
“Next time...” Rainbow was doing it again, watching her, waiting for her to fill in the gap. Scootaloo could only guess what Rainbow saw looking at her. Three years without a word until she sent a letter out of the blue asking to talk. And then she wanted to talk about scooters rather than what they were both thinking about.
Scootaloo snorted, and she ignored Rainbow’s brief look of confusion. No, she didn’t want to talk about scooters, or her fears for Sweetie Belle, or her secret wish for the future. Rainbow offered her a way out, but she needed a way in. “So you joined the Wonderbolts again after I left.”
Rainbow held her gaze with a playful look Scootaloo couldn’t quite place. She tapped her flank and said, “I kept getting called away for magic map missions, just like that first tour before you graduated. Wasn’t fair to keep the team guessing if I was really going to be available like that, so I stepped down. I’m a reservist for life now.”
“Ouch. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I got to be a full-time ‘Bolt twice. First pony who could ever say that. You can guess the numbers that draws at the box office when they call me up.”
She could. The crowd at the last show in Fillydelphia had been so thick she hadn’t been able to dodge a soda cup tossed back by an overzealous fan in the front rows. It had been worth it in the end, even after spending half an hour rinsing the sticky mess out of her mane. The ‘Bolts were always a good show, but it was the chance to see Rainbow Dash again—looking as beautiful and fast and awesome as she remembered—that had drawn her in. That had taken her breath away. That had left her wanting an end to her embarrassment.
Rainbow bumped a shoulder against her. “You’re not gonna fool me, Scoots. You think I forgot what you looked like that easily? Thirteenth row. Fourth seat from the aisle. You were watching me with the same slack jaw look back before you could fly.”
Scootaloo’s words died on her lips, and she fumbled for more and more under Rainbow’s growing smirk.
She laughed, pointing a hoof at Scootaloo’s face. “That’s the one! Right there!”
”You saw... but you didn’t say anything! Or wave! Or—” Or come out to see her while Scootaloo had remained in her seat long after the show ended, shedding silent tears and trying to make sense of the feelings Rainbow’s performance had dragged up to the surface. Or asked about the decision she had come to.
“The way we left things, I always figured you’d come back and talk to me when you were ready.” Rainbow shrugged and tapped a hoof on the wall. “And here we are. I don’t mind catching up with you a little more, but you don’t need to play games with me. Just let me know when you’re ready.”
Scootaloo nodded, and then took a deep breath. She spoke the words she had feared, finally proven true to her after years of denial. “You... you were right.” Grimacing, she shook her head and did better. “You were right! I was a stupid kid in crush, and I had no idea what I was doing when I kissed you.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Rainbow said. “Your kissing ain’t bad, Squirt. Needed a little more practice, though.”
Scootaloo gave a wan smile. If she was going to bring it up after stepping on her Wonderbolt lead-in... “Then it’s a good thing I got some. Coral Heart, she was a unicorn that kissed me our first year at trade school after I swatted her flank—”
Rainbow’s hysterics interrupted her. “Whoa, I didn’t ask all that! Rarity would be ashamed of you!”
“Well too bad, because I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. She kissed me first, even though I did all the flirting. She had a blue coat like yours, and... and she kissed me.” Scootaloo studied her hoof scraping on the floor. “And she kissed me, and I didn’t do anything. I didn’t kiss back, I didn’t touch her, I didn’t... I didn’t feel anything, or even look at her after that. I played with her heart, didn’t I?”
“Yep.”
Scootaloo sighed, shrinking in on herself. “Gee, thanks.”
Rainbow just put a hoof on her shoulder.
Scootaloo covered it with hers. “I think I always knew you were right after that. I’ve gone on a couple dates with stallions since then, but I’ve never thought of another mare that way. Seeing you again made me realize it.” She pointed back-and-forth between them. “I want this. You looked beautiful up there, but this is what I missed.”
Rainbow’s hoof brushed past her neck, pulling her in closer. “I never wanted you to leave. I don’t know how many times I’ve kicked myself for not just saying, ‘You’re confused. Let’s talk.’”
“Confused, huh?” Scootaloo weighed that word in her mind and tried to hear it with Rainbow pushing her away. “I probably would have left anyway. You were it for me, Rainbow. I never felt for anyone else the way I felt for you.”
“You never let yourself give anyone that chance.”
“I know. Now.” She snorted. “But if you had said like that back then, it might have saved us some time.”
Rainbow cuffed her with a wing. “You surprised me!”
Scootaloo rubbed the back of her head, grinning. “So is this what growing up feels like? Like you want to go back and knock some sense into yourself?”
“Pretty much. Think we both got a taste of that.” Rainbow kicked at the ground. “So stallions, and you didn’t know it, huh? You crushed on me that hard?”
Scootaloo flushed. “I guess? There might be a stallion now, actually. Sprockets. He works at the garage too, and we’ve met for coffee a couple times before work.”
Rainbow scrunched her face. “Since when do you drink coffee?”
“I don’t.”
“Ah ha.”
Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Ah ha.” She leaned into Rainbow’s body, settling further in her leg’s embrace. Coffee and work. There was nothing else to be told. Except that he also mentioned wanting a shop of his own one day. And he bothered to laugh with her, even when she didn’t say anything particularly funny. And he helped with the bookkeeping, so he knew more about what to do with money than squirreling it away under a mattress.
She had also screwed up before. Coral Heart, Rainbow Dash, they were only two examples of a long history of growing up—by the definition she and Rainbow had just agreed on. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom had always had someone else they could go to when they felt that way. She’d been desperate to know what that was like, and once she got it, she had screwed that up too.
Scootaloo chanced another study of Rainbow’s body. A two-time Wonderbolt, a trusted friend of a Princess of Equestria, and she was still in the prime of her life. Scootaloo may not have all of that to look forward to, but if there was one thing she learned as a Crusader and the years after, it was that she always had mistakes to make. “So I don’t... I don’t love you. But can we maybe be sisters again? I’d like that.”
Rainbow spun around and threw her other foreleg around Scootaloo’s neck. “What do you mean again? You’ve got a boyfriend I get to scare off now and everything! We’re only getting started.”
Scootaloo’s laugh choked off into a sob, and she wrapped both forelegs around Rainbow’s barrel, squeezing with everything she had, feeling Rainbow respond in kind. “I never told the others why I actually left. Could we keep the kiss between us now that we’ve...?”
Rainbow leaned back and winked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. So how long are you here?”
“About five more seconds.” Scootaloo grinned, wiping her eyes dry. “Can’t risk the new generation catching a stranger in their private clubhouse, after all. So where do we go now?”
“Ghastly Gorge,” Rainbow said, a smile spreading wide on her face. “I haven’t flown with my sister for, like, ever! One run through the gorge, and it’s off to Sugarcube Corner. A lot of ponies are gonna be happy to see you again.”
“First things first,” Scootaloo said, heading for the door. “I’ve still got to tell you about the stallion that wanted your silhouette engraved on the side of his cab.”
