The Amorous Adventures of Scootaloo's Helmet

The next morning, a freshly showered Rainbow Dash stepped out onto her porch. There was a bounce in her step, a twinkle in her eye, and her mane was slightly more disheveled than usual. She was so busy giggling like a school filly that she almost tripped over the pitiful, orange wretch curled into a ball by her door.

A part of the blue Pegasus felt elated. Maybe the little squirt would think twice before abandoning somepony to go follow the latest superhero trend. Despite having suddenly discovered the joys of passive-aggressive behavior, the Pegasus knew it wasn’t polite to gloat. Nor would it be productive. If she was going to get the emotional train wreck off her property, it would take some Rarity-level finesse.

“Uh, Scoots, do you want to talk?”

“No,” replied the orange and purple ball of misery.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine.”

“Ok, then.” Rainbow Dash dragged a hoof through her mane. She was running out of excuses to be late to work. “Do you ... want to get off my porch?”

“Can’t fly.” The orange filly turned upward, hurling unspoken daggers at her hero. Daring the blue Pegasus to say it would be better if she just jumped. Daring her to say that she didn’t care.

“I … I’ll fly you down.” How had she gotten up here in the first place? Dash's passive-aggressive satisfaction and post-coital ecstasy withered before those accusing eyes. “Do you need a ride to school?”

Yesterday, Scootaloo would have been elated at the offer. She would have shown off to the entire class and spent weeks telling everypony about it. Sure, Diamond Tiara had money, a Cutie Mark, social status and a guaranteed college education, but she didn't get casual, platonic affection from an amateur athlete.

This morning, however, it was only a reminder of the elaborate fantasy life that had come crashing down around her.

“No, just take me to the ground. I’ll walk.”

The two floated down to the ground in awkward silence. Words fought to break into the open. Explanations and accusations thrashed against the undertow in their brains, but nothing came up for air.

“Are you sure you won’t need help getting to school? I don't want you to be late.”

“I’m sure,” replied Scootaloo as she walked over to the ditch where her scooter had been tossed. She pulled the soiled scooter out of the slime. As she shook some of the water from it, she became aware that she hadn't bathed last night. The scooter and the Pegasus were a perfect fit. Dirty and discarded.

She planted one hoof on the deck, perhaps a bit more violently than necessary, and prepared to take off.

“You shouldn’t ride that without a …” Oops. Rainbow Dash sucked air in through her teeth, but the words couldn’t be brought back.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Somewhere, a dog was barking into the wind, fighting the weather as it tugged its fluffy tail. Dogs are stupid like that, never able to recognize a battle they can’t win.

Wincing, Rainbow Dash took to the sky. Why did love have to be so hard? It wasn’t fair, and she felt very teenaged for the thought.

Scootaloo didn’t go to school, the thought of telling her friends about yesterday was too much to bear. So was the idea of holding her humiliation inside her.

Instead, she tooled along the edge of the Everfree forest. Her hooves kicked idly at the dirt. Orange wings remained pressed in position at her sides. She would never fly again. If she deliberately crippled herself and spend the rest of her life impoverished of joy, that would teach Rainbow Dash and her stupid helmet a lesson.

While she pouted, she deliberately kept her face turned away from Ponyville, as if she could will the entire town away. Her eyes traced the tortured twigs and bitter branches of the forest, and, eventually, her thoughts faded into the background, lost in the tangled wooden labyrinth. It was peaceful out here. There were no ponies around to disrupt her or tell her she wasn't good enough. Nopony could hurt her in this solipsist isolation.

She traveled for hours. The sun was almost directly overhead when she saw a flash of light among the green. At first, she thought it was a trick of the light. Then, she saw it again. White and purple hidden amongst the foliage.

Scootaloo leaned her scooter against a tree and pressed through the branches on hoof. Occasionally, she lost sight of the object, but never for long.

The orange Pegasus soon found herself in a clearing. The canopy above opened up, allowing a single shaft of light to fall and bathe a stump in unearthly glow. On top of the stump, rested a helmet. Its white finish reflected the sun's rays, emphasizing the bold purple stripes that ran from front to back. The black chinstrap was folded before it in quiet dignity, like a hunting cat at rest. Scootaloo's breath caught in her throat at the sight of something so noble and majestic.

Slowly, so as not to startle the helmet and cause it to run away, Scootaloo approached the stump. When she was within a few inches of the object of her focus, she noticed a bunch of fur resting on the brim of the helmet like a fat caterpillar.

"Hello," she said, and immediately regretted opening her mouth. What if she was disturbing this fine piece of headgear? It might have sought out this spot far from everypony for its own private meditations.

The helmet didn't reply, apparently lost in thought.

“Did somepony abandon you, too?" Scootaloo asked as her hoof went to sweep the caterpillar away. However, the bristles remained attached the brim.

The touch caused the helmet to rock silently, nodding its agreement.

"I guess we're in the same boat. Do you mind if I hang out with you for awhile?"

Hearing no objection from the object, Scootaloo slumped against the stump.

Her sudden impact caused the helmet to creak silently. The Pegasus looked up expectantly, but the headgear didn’t finish its thought. Scootaloo turned her eyes back to her hooves beneath her.

“I just … I just don’t know what I did wrong, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it,” Scootaloo said, and looked back to the helmet.

Against her expectations, it made no effort to escape or complain. It only waited for her to pour out her soul to it.

“My helmet … and Rainbow Dash ... I saw them ... I’m not sure. Maybe it just started, or maybe it's been going on for months. I don't know how I didn't see the signs."

The helmet didn’t move or break its gaze.

“I’m sure you have someone who owns you, but … maybe? I just want to ...”

The silence continued. It was a wise silence, filled with stoicism and strength.

The filly scooped up the headgear in her forelegs and hugged it to her chest. The plastic was warm from the sun and firm against her.

They lay together for at least an hour. Neither asked for anything more than the presence of another body. The salve to their mutual loneliness.

“I love you, helmet,” the filly whispered.

Elsewhere in the land of amazing technicolor equines, all was not going well for Rainbow Dash.

“Rrrainbow Dashu,” bellowed her supervisor, Strange Fixture, as he descended slowly from above. The immense, yellow Pegasus bore an image of a water faucet twisting around to pipe the water back into itself on his haunch and spoke with a Yonaguni accent. “I have heard about your rendezvous yesterday evening.”

Rainbow Dash had expected some resistance to her new love from the other citizens of Ponyville. No one could understand the special love that might exist between a helmet and a pony.

“You have taken in that kawaii filly who wears a purple mop on her head,” Strange Fixture said in his deep, drawling accent.

“Wait, no," Rainbow Dash shook her head, "I'm not like that. It's not fillyphilia-”

“You misunderstand me, Dash-kun. I am proud to hear that you have taken on a young ward. Where I come from-”

“Cloudsdale. You're from Cloudsdale. You lived across the street from me for eight years.”

“Where I vacationed one summer-”

“One week.”

“Where I spent one week, it is natural for adult mares to take in a Joza. You will teach her the ways of love, philosophy, and how to become a great samurai.”

Rainbow Dash shook her head again, trying to rattle something into place. The world just didn't make any sense today, and all she wanted to do was rush back to the sanity of her house and the helmet she had spent six hours fornicating yesterday. She wanted to smack Strange Fixture between his ears, which were always pointed straight up like a pair of spears.

Instead, she smiled. "Oh, yes, of course. I'm going teach Scootaloo the way of the samurai."

"However, you must be cautious in your ambitions. Not all ponies are as worldly as myself. For instance, the filly's parents are rather concerned that she never came home last night, and apparently she didn't go to school this morning, either."

Oh shit.

Scootaloo made her way to the tree house. She couldn't wait to introduce Sweetie Belle and Applebloom to her new helmet, but she could certainly wait to return home and receive another boring lecture from her boring parents.

"I just know you're going to love them," she gushed.

The helmet said nothing quizzically.

"Oh no," Scootaloo laughed, "not like that. Not like us. I mean, you'll get along great. I bet Applebloom's bow will have all kinds of things to talk about with you. Like heads and head lice and head sweat and sitting on top of heads."

Something about her partner’s silence was so mysterious. It was fascinating, and reminded her of the few moments she had seen Rainbow Dash and her old helmet together.

The filly poked her head out the door and looked around the orchard. Nopony was around, and her friends probably wouldn't be back for another hour.

She returned to the helmet, and leaned forward to whisper into its ear flap, "I think we'll be alone for a little while longer, if you want to ..."

Her breathy whisper faded off at the scent of fresh sweat emanating from the helmet. It was a strong smell. Musky, yet feminine.

She teased the helmet's mustache and then slid her hoof along the rim. Slowly, the hoof pressed the headgear backward, meeting no resistance as the horny headgear reclined back and revealed its lush interior. Scootaloo dipped her head inside, her nostrils flaring to soak in as much of the helmet's musk as possible. She turned her head, feeling the caress of plastic against her mane and neck.

That was all the invitation she needed, and the orange Pegasus pushed forward. Her tongue slid along the foam interior, tasting the bitterness contained there. With skill that belied her age and inexperience, she sought out every cranny and crevice. Her tongue swirled along the hard plastic, teasing it.

Orange hooves, guided by instinct, slid around the behind the helmet and grasped the firm curvature of its dome. With a sudden push, she shoved her snout into the helmet's padding. When she could hold her breath no longer, she came up gasping for air. A strand of saliva hung from the corner of her mouth, stretching back to the welcoming padding of her plastic paramour.

“Did you like that, helmet?” she asked, fluttering her eyes like she’d seen Rarity do when bargaining with stallions.

A bead of her sweat slid across the helmet’s brim.

“Oh, helmet,” she moaned, before lowering her head to nibble on the chin strap.

When Sweetie Belle opened the door to the tree house, she was greeted by the sight of Scootaloo rubbing her new helmet’s mustache against her nose, feeling the stiff bristles. There was a definite moistness spreading from between the hindlegs of the Pegasus and her wings were flared out to the side.

"Sweetie Belle," Scootaloo turned to her friend, sweat dripping from her mane, "you came!"

"Yes," replied the Unicorn.

After a long pause, Sweetie Belle added, “your parents were at school looking for you. Everypony is talking about how you just disappeared.”

The Pegasus rolled her eyes. Of course they’d go looking for her at school, or talk to the police, or ask around town. It would never occur to them to go running off into the woods on an impulse, risking their lives in a desperate attempt to find their foal. Sensible decisions like that were what kept her parents on the boring side of town. Also alive, if you could call that boring existence living.

“I’ll go back home when I’m ready,” she replied, moving the helmet to rub against her cheek.

“What are you doing with that helmet?”

“We’re in love.” Scootaloo mentally prepared herself to defend her unconventional romance. Instead, Sweetie Belle's focus was on the interior brim of the helmet flashing at her seductively.

The Unicorn pointed in horror. “Look!”

“Look at what?”

“That helmet doesn’t have a logo on it indicating it meets the specifications of the Equestrian National Standards Institute, or any other nationally recognized board of safety.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Scootaloo replied, “I love it.”

“That helmet is unsafe! You have to get rid of it.”

“You’re just jealous of my hot and heavy helmet love!”

"It's evil!" Sweetie Belle lunged, gripping the helmet with her hooves and attempting to tug it away from her friend.

“I can’t lose another helmet,” cried Scootaloo, desperately clinging to the seductive safety gear with her forelegs. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

“It's not ENSI approved,” Sweetie Belle grunted, pulling on the helmet, "it's evil!"

"Well, I'm not ENSI approved, either. Are you going to throw me away?"

Scootaloo's athleticism should have given her the advantage in this contest. However, her poor sleep the night before and the sweat on her body put her at a disadvantage. The Pegasus lost her grip and Sweetie Belle toppled backwards, stumbling over a chair and crashing to the ground. The helmet landed on the filly's chest, pinning her to the ground.

"Helmet, no! She didn't mean it!" Scootaloo pleaded.

The helmet did not respond, only glowered menacingly at the Unicorn who had tried to stand between it and its new owner. Sweetie Belle kept her eyes shut, feeling the black chin strap draped across her face. The leather brushing her lips.

-To Be Continued-