//------------------------------// // Chapter 18 - Double (D) Take // Story: One or the Other // by Blind Alley //------------------------------// Apple Bloom and I sighed in almost perfect sync. “Y'know, I was expectin' this day to be hard, but I didn't think we'd just end up sittin' around outside Scootaloo's door.” “I know. I'm getting hungry.” She shot me an incredulous look. “That's what's buggin' you?” “I get cravings when I'm worried, okay!?” “If that's true, how come y'ain't put on a ton of weight?” “Because you two eat everything whenever we hang out. The rest, er,” I made a self-conscious adjustment of my collar, “only seems to want to go to a few places.” She snorted. “No kiddin'.” I shoved her shoulder playfully. “Look who's talking! Your rump is waaay bigger than mine!” “It ain't THAT much bigger.” She craned her neck to look down at her backside as best she could. “…Is it?” “I don't know how you got into those pants!” Her cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pinkish peach. “I only keep a few old spare clothes at Big Mac's place. This is what I had handy.” I let my eyes wander over her. I might've been teasing but I really, really wasn't complaining. I may have spent all morning sneaking looks, especially when we were walking around town. Her shirt was a little too small too, and it really accented her waist and just how much she flared out at the hips. It looked like she couldn't do the top few buttons but she'd put on a white undershirt on to cover her cleavage. I guess I couldn't have everything. “Y'think she's okay?” That brought the mood right back down. I twisted the hem of my skirt between my fingers, right back to my nervous habit. “Fluttershy said it wasn't anything bad, right?” “It just don't make no sense. She was fine yesterday… or…” “What?” “Well, now that I think about it, last night, when I brought both of y'all dinner? She sorta stayed behind the door then, too. She was definitely wearing a shirt though.” “You sure?” “Positive. Same old black tank top. Bought 'em in bulk last year. How anypony so reckless grew up into such a bit hoarder I got no clue.” A rattle of the doorknob got both of us on our feet in no time. “Scootaloo?” Fluttershy hunched apologetically in the doorway, clutching the same canvas bag she'd brought from her cottage. It actually looked fuller than it'd started. “Is she alright?” Apple Bloom asked. “Oh, um, it depends how you look at it…” “Is she sick?” I asked. “Hurt?” “Dying!?” Fluttershy gasped, horrified. “Goodness, no! It's not like that at all!” Apple Bloom planted her hands on her hips. “Then what the hay IS it like?” Fluttershy straightened up and met Apple Bloom's glare. “I'm sorry, but you'll just have to talk to her. I think it's for the best that you hear it from her. But…” she cast a look over her shoulder, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “Please, please be gentle. It's a sensitive subject and she's probably feeling very vulnerable at the moment. She's going to need you.” Apple Bloom and I looked at each other again. She looked just as worried as I felt, and for good reason. Scootaloo was a lot like her favorite role model, and not just about their love of flying. They both liked to come across as all rough and tough but inside they're both super sensitive about their image. Scootaloo struggled so hard with not being able to fly when she was little, and if we were up against something like that again? Dealing with it wasn't going to be easy. “I'll be back in a little while with something to wear that's a little more her, um, style.” We stepped aside to let Fluttershy leave then both tried to fit through the door at once. “Oof! Lemme in!” “Hey, ladies first!” “We're both mares! That don't work!” “Yeah, but I'm more ladylike!” “Just 'cause Rarity's yer sister that don't make you ladylike!” Apple Bloom finally managed to muscle her way past me and get to the stairs. I hung back just long enough to close the door with my magic, then I was right on her tail all the way up to Scootaloo's apartment and through to her bedroom. “Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom called over the thumping of her fist on the door. “Okay, okay, I hear you!” Scootaloo called back. “Are you okay?” I asked. “Fluttershy wouldn't tell us anything.” “Uh… yeah, yeah, I'm good. How're you?” “Y'all gonna open up?” “We can talk through the door, can't we?” Apple Bloom clenched her fists. “No, y'know what? I've just about had it.” I reached for her arm. “Apple Bloom, Fluttershy said--” “No way, Sweetie. If she ain't gonna come clean I ain't gonna sit here and foalsit. I've got enough to sort out right now without either of y'all fightin' me every step of the way! Sweet Celestia, yer scarin' the livin' daylights out of me, Scoots! I've spent the last hour worryin' about you, and now ya won't even look me in the eye and tell me what's wrong? Well, let me tell ya something, Scootaloo, if you EVER wanna get in my pants, then you'll open this door right this second and I can't believe I just said that out loud.” “Me neither,” I agreed, a little awestruck. Her face was almost as red as her hair, and I had no idea if it was anger or embarrassment at this point. The door lock clicked. Slowly, very, very slowly, the door crept open. At first, I didn't see anything wrong. It was just Scootaloo, standing there in her doorway, eyes down and wings twitching like they do when she's nervous. Weird thing was that she wasn't wearing one of Fluttershy's shirts like I thought she'd be. She was wearing one of her own old charcoal gray t-shirts like she had before she'd bought all those tank tops. It used to be a good fit on her but now it was stretched across her-- My jaw dropped. Where the hay had THOSE come from? I blinked hard and rubbed my eyes but they were still there, full and round and amazing. Somehow, someway, Scootaloo had gone from flattest mare our age to… well, she was still way back in third place for us, but wow! Hugs were going to be a LOT squishier now. I wrenched my eyes away from Scootaloo's new, above-average bust, and back up at her face. There were tears gathering in her eyes and her ears were pinned back hard. She was upset? Why? Sure it was kinda dramatic but why would she be…? I looked again, and this time it struck me that it was more than just her chest. WAY more. Scootaloo was skinny. Really skinny. She was in great shape, sure, but you could count her ribs. With the slight exception of her rump, she was all sharp angles, as if her skeleton had grown twice as fast as the rest of her. Now it looked like the rest of her had caught up. There were curves on her hips. There were curves on her rump, on her chest, on her thighs, on her… everything! I could still see her muscle tone, the tightness of her stomach, and the definition in her arms and legs, but there was a new smoothness and fullness rounding out her figure in all the right ways. Even her skin looked different, her color richer and livelier. Her cheeks were fuller, her eyes seemed brighter despite the tears, free from dark circles that lurked under them so often these days. I'd never really thought of her as sickly but seeing her now? She just looked… healthier, somehow. She was gorgeous. “What the hay happened, Scoots?” Apple Bloom's voice was hard to read. Somewhere between shock and confusion, I think. I couldn't blame her. I felt like I'd just gotten blindsided by a wagon. “Nothing! I'm not crying!” Scootaloo turned away and furiously wiped at her eyes with her wrist. “You're crying!” “I didn't say anythin' about--” Apple Bloom gave me a helplessly bewildered look. I shook my head, took a half step forward, right up to the open door, and mouthed “gently” back at her. “Why don't we sit down and you can tell us what happened, okay?”