Bugs in the Bushes
There are certain secrets that older ponies never reveal to the fillies and colts. Obscure and eldritch truths. Things they believe to be too much for innocent minds to handle...
In Scootaloo's current case, it was how to make potpurri.
The little pony poked around the underbrush, sniffing desperately to find something at least moderately pleasant-smelling. Her home situation was becoming untenable, and none of the spacialists she had called could tell her why her house smelled so bad. So here she was- all alone in the woods.
“Psst!”
Scootaloo perked her ears up, wondering who could possibly be traipsing in the same part of the forest as she. The voice had been a voice- not a snarl, or a hiss, or a roar- so the odds were pretty good that it wasn't a monster of some sort. Unless, of course, said monster had learned how to speak... No, that only happened in comic books.
Thus, it must have been a pony of some kind who'd made their presence known. But why would a pony be hiding out here? As she cautiously looked for the source of the beckoning, Scootaloo began to worry that she might have stumbled into an enterprise that was both secretive and illicit.
“Psst! Little Orange Pony!” Finally, Scootaloo was able to zero in on the speaker.
It was a bush. That was rather odd.
“Umm... hello, Ms. Bush. Nice weather we're having, isn't it?”
“Bush-?” The plant seemed offended by the notion. “I am no mere shrub, you little fool!”
The leaves rustled and shook, and suddenly Queen Chrysalis herself. The Invader of Canterlot. The Stealer of Faces. The Rather Disheveled-Looking.
Chrysalis seemed quite pleased at her reception. “Yes, little foal, stare and be dumbstruck. Quake in the presence of the mighty Queen of the Changelings!”
“What, uh, what are you doing?”
“What was that, you little brat?!” Chrysalis roared, incensed at the filly's temerity. “You dare question the Queen's actions?”
Scootaloo shook her head frantically. “Not at all, your Chrysalis-ness. I was just wondering why you were here. At Ponyville, I mean. Are you going to attack?”
“Ah. You may breathe easy, Little Orange Pony,” the changeling declared, seemingly mollified.
“Umm... It's 'Scootaloo'.”
“That's what I said,” Chrysalis dismissed.
“Alright...” There seemed to be little point in trying to press the issue, but by now the fear Scootalood been feeling was starting to fade. Answers were needed. “So- if you aren't going to attack, why are you here?”
Chrysalis frowned, like what she had to say grated at her pride. “It's come to my attention that you've developed... something of a reputation.”
“I've got a reputation?”
“Yes.”
“For shipping?” Scootaloo clarified. This was amazing, if true. Perhaps it was time to move on to Phase Rainbow. After she got rid of the smell.
“Yes.”
The pegasus stroked her chin thoughtfully. “And you need my help.”
Chrysalis just growled.
“I'll take that as a yes,” Scootaloo meeped. An ahem later, she was able to speak normally again. “A consultation it is, then. First things first, do you have aspirations on the subject? A benchmark, or somepony you're interested in?”
“The last time I set my sights on a pony, I was blasted across the country,” Chrysalis reminded her.
“Quite right. Another question- do you have any preferences when it comes to romance? It's very important to narrow this down, or else it will be more difficult to determine your dream pony.”
“As long as I can feed on their love for me, I don't care,” Chrysalis stated.
“Excellent, excellent- complete matchmaking freedom. A blank canvas, if you will.” The little pony trotted around her newest client, sizing the changeling up. Two revolutions later, Scootaloo had figured out her stratagem. “I've got it! You know what your problem is, Chrysalis?”
“You ponies are frightened of me, terrified of the implications of what I've done,” Chrysalis said flatly.
“You're unique.”
The Queen just stared. “Unique?”
“Exactly! Your looks, your philosophy, your approach to interpony relationships. There's not a pony like you in Equestria.”
“So you can't help me?” Chrysalis hissed.
“That's not it at all,” Scootaloo soothed. “On the contrary, I have the perfect special somepony in mind. One just as different as you are.”
A bit of hope shimmered in Chrysalis' eyes. “And this pony... could love me? As I am?”
“I couldn't imagine her doing anything else.”
“Describe her to me,” the changeling demanded.
Scootaloo breezily ignored her client's tone. “I'll do you one better. Come with me and you can see her for yourself. You'll need a disguise, though...”
Half an hour, and a shape change, later the two of them sat surreptitiously observing their target. If anypony noticed how suspiciously similar they looked, the topic wasn't broached. Ponyville ponies were very polite, normally, and wouldn't point out how strange it was for a filly to have a moustache. Pinkie Pie lived here, after all.
“So? What do you think?”
“She's so...” Chrysalis searched for the proper adjective. There was only one that truly fit. “Fluffy.”
“That she is. She's also super nice and extremely.. uncomplicated. A nice balance for you, don't you agree?” As if to illustrate Scootaloo's point, the poof-y pony pounced at a butterfly. It got away.
“You don't need to sell me anymore,” Chrysalis grumbled, blushing ever so slightly. “So, will you set up a meeting? And maybe be there to introduce us?”
“It might be better if you do it alone. Just bring tacos, you'll be fine.”
“Very well, I'll do it myself,” Chrysalis said determinedly.
Scootaloo grinned victoriously. “Great, great, now there's just the matter of the fee.”
“I don't exactly need or carry any of your monies,” the Queen reminded her.
“Well... there is something you can do for me, in lieu of payment.”