The Amorous Adventures of Scootaloo's Helmet

Applebloom and Sweetie Belle were in the tree house, weaving a net. Or a sweater. Or a dog house. After countless misadventures, the two fillies had given up on predicting the outcomes of their actions. Instead, they had decided to embrace the way chaos seemed to work out in their favor.

Their unstudious labor was interrupted by a scrambling of hooves and excited squealing as Scootaloo bounced into the room.

“Did I tell you? Did I tell you?”

“Yes,” replied Applebloom, pounding a nail through the fabric, “We all know about the booger y’all found yesterday.”

“No, that’s not it!”

“We also know how it tasted, what color it was, what shape it was, and what we said about it at the time,” said Sweetie Belle as she carefully cross-stitched a Take-Out menu to their work in progress.

“No,” insisted Scootaloo, “this has nothing to do with my boogers. This is even more amazing than that!” She could hardly contain her excitement as she burst out, “Rainbow Dash is going to adopt me!”

“Adopt …” Applebloom stared quizzically at her friend, “adoption is for orphans. Y’all have parents. They live on the other side of town.”

“But that’s the boring side of town where boring ponies with stable jobs live.”

Sweetie Belle nodded in agreement. Her parents lived on the boring side of town, which was why she spent as much time as possible at Rarity’s or Applebloom’s. Or wandering in the woods. Or hiding under the tables of her classmates. Anywhere that wasn’t the boring side of town.

“Okay,” said Applebloom, dropping her hacksaw and resigning herself that she was not going to finish her project, “when did she say she was going to adopt y’all?”

Earlier that Day:

Rainbow Dash reclined restlessly upon her cloud. Well, maybe she couldn’t “own” a cloud, but she was making use of it. It is very rude to interrupt people who are trying to nap in public.

However, no amount of trying could stop her mind from returning to Rarity’s words earlier that day: “You need something hard in your life, Rainbow. It can't be healthy to spend all your time alone in soft, fluffy clouds. You need something hard, long, and perhaps administered by a close friend.”

Something about the ferocious longing illuminating her friend’s lilac eyeshadow had spooked the daredevil, and Rainbow Dash made an excuse before fleeing the boutique.

Still, as the Pegasus reclined in her cloud, those words tickled something in the back of her mind. She certainly liked hard things. The more difficult, the better. She wasn’t sure about long, though. Attention span had never been her strong suit.

It was at that moment, she looked down from her cloud and saw something short, hard and being carried by a friend. Well, by a Scootaloo. That was close enough.

She stared at the round surface of Scootaloo’s helmet. Little beads of liquid rolled across the purple surface. With each stroke of the filly’s leg, her head bobbed and wiggled the headgear slightly. Each wiggle, in turn, sent a shudder down Rainbow Dash’s spine until it came to rest somewhere in front of her hips.

It was then the Pegasus knew she had to have it.

“Pipsqueak! I mean, uh, Scootaloo!”

The orange Pegasus stopped and turned toward the sky where her idol was descending from a cloud. The sun streamed around Rainbow Dash's wings, casting her into angelic relief as her hooves spread to touch the ground.

“Rainbow Dash,” she squealed.

“So, Scootaloo, you like me, right?”

“Of course, you’re the most awesome Pegasus ever!”

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I … could I …” her voice caught in her throat. The filly had begun bouncing in excitement, causing the light reflecting from the white surface of her helmet to glint merrily. The light held Raindow's eyes with magpie fascination, demanding her attention. How could she even begin to explain herself, what she wanted, what she needed. Her heart was speaking a language that the filly wasn’t old enough to understand. “...come to my house,” was all she could finish with.

The filly stared at her hero, uncertain if she had just heard what she thought she just heard.

“I mean, you seem to have a good head on your shoulders, so maybe …”

Scootaloo wasn’t certain what to make of the first compliment her intelligence had ever received. Still, a compliment! From her hero, her elation continued to build as she manufactured bizarre fantasies in her head.

“Here let me take that helmet off your hooves,” said Rainbow Dash, “and you can … you can come by later and I’ll give it back?” It ended as a question. Stupid Dash. Stupid, stupid Dash.

“Of course!” shouted the orange Pegasus to the Pegasus of another color.

Rainbow Dash couldn’t believe her luck as she rested the helmet upon on her couch. It sat uncertainly on the uneven surface.

“Oh, don’t worry about Scootaloo,” the Pegasus reassured the headgear, “she’ll be fine without you for awhile.”

The helmet leaned indecisively.

“Come now, don’t you think you should take a little time for yourself?” Rainbow Dash was now openly pleading. This was stupid, she was behaving like a little filly. Or Fluttershy … ugh. She was better than begging. She was The Rainbow Dash. Best Young Flier. Sonic Rainboom Boomer. Bold, reckless.

The Pegasus steeled herself, and made the impossible possible. With sudden lunge she planted her lips on the brim of the helmet.

As she pulled back, she resisted the urge to wince. What if she was going too fast? Had she just ruined everything? The helmet fell under the caress of her lips, revealing its soft, inviting interior and sexy ENSI logo.

Rainbow Dash didn’t need any further invitation.

“I knew you’d come around."

Scootaloo felt some trepidation as she hurtled down the streets of Ponyville. Without her ENSI-approved helmet, she felt exposed and also a bad example to children. Still, Pegasi didn’t wear helmets to fly, and that was much more dangerous than riding a scooter. The filly had to grow up sometime.

She pulled to a stop below Rainbow Dash’s house. Now, how was she going to make it up there? She could call for assistance, but that was the boring way that her boring parents would do it. No, she was going to get up there on her own.

A pile of crates with several boards leaning against them caught her eye, and she made for the makeshift ramp at full speed.

Her bones rattled as she bounced up the ramp, now using just her wings to accelerate her. Scootaloo leapt into the air from the edge of the ramp. Wind tugged at her mane as she lost contact with the ground beneath her. Her spirit trilled at the air swirling freely around her ears. This was why Pegasi never wore helmets.

Rainbow Dash’s porch was there, almost close enough to spit at. The air filled her nostrils and pressed against her eyes, drawing tears. She could make it, she was going to make it. Her wings flipped rapidly, propelling the scooter forward. She was above the porch. Almost.

She was even with the porch. Not quite.

She was lower than the porch. Oops.

She wasn’t going to make it.

Gravity, the meanest nag in Equestria, pulled at her. She saw Rainbow Dash’s front porch pass by her head. Her unprotected head, which was very soon to meet the ground. She never should have been so foolish as to attempt a trick without proper protection.

Well, maybe there would be something soft to break her fall.

“Greta?” called a voice beneath her, “Where do you want these large crates full of rusty nails and assorted metal hoof-tools?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Just leave it there beside the enormous metal spikes and bales of razor wire for a moment.”

Shit.

With her life approaching a very pointy and violent end, Scootaloo did the one thing she swore she’d never do. She prayed.

“Celestia …” well, she wasn’t really a deity, so, “Discord …” but he was encased in stone again, “Nightmare Moon …” no longer in commission, “Faust …” was a character in that boring story Cheerilee had made her read.

Well, praying wasn’t going to work.

As her mind wandered, her wings took over. They slowed their frenzied fluttering, smoothing out into even strokes. Snapping the air, catching it and pushing it down, generating lift.

The metal spikes below her slowed, then came to rest a couple feet away from her face. It took Scootaloo a moment to realize that her death had been averted.

She was flying.

Her scooter dropped to the ground below her and clattered among the large metal spikes pointing toward the sky. One of the spears fell over in disappointment.

She was flying!

The orange Pegasus turned in the air, letting it wash around her. Cool and brisk, parting like water over her fur. She traced a thermal draft toward the sun, basking in the glow on her skin.

She could fly!

Scootaloo spun her body, relishing the freedom from the ground. The attempted barrel roll nearly crashed her into the side of a house as she lost control. Steadying out, she realized she was starting to tire. Scootaloo turned toward Rainbow Dash’s home. She couldn’t wait to tell her hero. This was possibly the greatest day in her entire life. Although, the booger yesterday was still pretty awesome.

The Pegasus would adopt her and they’d live forever in the clouds and everything would be perfect. Her boring family and the loving environment they had provided to her for over a decade could go suck eggs.

The excited filly alighted on her hero’s porch. If she hadn’t been so busy congratulating herself, she would have heard the low moans coming from within the house. The filly wouldn’t have understood what those sounds meant, but she might have heard them.

Not even bothering to knock, the orange Pegaus banged through the front door grinning from ear to ear. There was Rainbow Dash on the couch, waiting for her, and there was her helmet …

Rainbow Dash’s wings were flared wide and sweat glistened off her body. The daredevil’s mouth hung open in strange ecstasy as she pounded her lower body against the helmet, smearing it with her love juices.

“Oooh... Scootaloo’s helmet … can I … can I call you dad … dy-” Rainbow Dash’s dirty talk died as she made eye contact with her number one fan. Her enthusiastic humping continued.

For several moments, the couch squeaking as Dash continued to grind her genitals against her plastic playmate was the only sound. The two Pegasi stared at each other in still silence. Scootaloo's mouth hung open, her tongue swaying gently in the air like a banner.

Rainbow Dash finally broke the quiet.

"No," she said and flipped her wings. The helmet was still clutched between her muscled thighs as she floated to the front door.

Scootaloo retreated backwards onto the porch.

"No," Rainbow Dash repeated before closing the door in the orange pony's face.

The moans of ecstasy from within resumed.

“Oh, Scootaloo’s helmet, don’t- don’t stop.”

Below, Greta, owner of the Very Dangerous Metal Things Emporium, tossed a foal’s scooter aside and collected the rest of her wares. Scootaloo continued to stare at the door, barely noticing the clattering beneath her.

A filly passed beneath excitedly telling her mother how she had earned her Supernumerary Cutie Mark.

Scootaloo continued to stand, her entire body locked rigidly in place. What had she done wrong? She’d … how could this have happened to her? Maybe she’d neglected her helmet’s feelings on occasion, leaving it alone in the closet on snowy days. And sometimes she didn’t clean it up right away, letting the mud cake on its surface, but … she’d been a good owner, right? How could her helmet betray her like that, and with her idol, too.

As the sun set, a single tear slid down the orange face. It splashed through the cloud floor and landed in the road. The door cracked open slightly, revealing a single violet eye.

"No."

The door closed again.