Scootaloo danced her hooves on the roof of the Apple family’s barn. She sent a glare up at the sun and blew a quick raspberry. She looked over at the other side of the roof, where Apple Bloom was setting a few shingles in place. “How the heck can you stand it up here?”
Apple Bloom picked a few nails out of her tool vest and stuck one into a shingle. She lifted a hoof and pounded the nail into submission. “Now don’t tell me the darin’ Scootaloo is afeared of heights?”
“What? No!” Scootaloo gestured aimlessly at the sky. “I’m talking about the heat! It’s sweltering! My feathers are sweating, it’s so hot.”
Apple Bloom smiled and hopped over to her friend. “Aw, don’t be that way. It’s real easy to ignore.”
Scootaloo raised a dubious eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?” She shrunk back as Apple Bloom’s uncomfortably-warm foreleg draped across her shoulders.
“Simple,” Apple Bloom said. She lifted a hoof outward. “Can y’all imagine Applejack standin’ there? Right there?”
Scootaloo nodded as she narrowed an eye.
Apple Bloom’s grin was as wide as a barn door. “Now just imagine her sayin’, ‘Tough crackers! Get back tah work!’”
Scootaloo flicked her tail to snap Apple Bloom’s rump. “You’re hilarious,” she said. “I’m gonna get us a lemonade.”
Apple Bloom snorted as she rubbed her rear. “You ain’t hardly done nothin’.” She shoved a shingle into Scootaloo’s hooves. “Get a section of the roof done, then we can talk breaks.”
Scootaloo slipped a nail out of Apple Bloom’s jacket. “Aaas yooou command, maaaster…”
Apple Bloom made her ponderous, careful way to her side of the roof. “Though if’n yer feelin’ hot, just flap them wings of yours. Ah sure wouldn’t mind a breeze, mahself.”
Scootaloo saluted. “Noted!” She glanced back at her orange wings and set them to beating. Before long, a fan-like sensation of cooled air flowed past her rear legs. Her rear legs and not much else, unfortunately. “You getting any of this, AB?”
“Nadda.” Apple Bloom used a bow to tie her red mane up in a tight bun. Sweat poured down her forehead. “Y-y’all just keep workin’. We won’t be up here long, anyhow.”
Scootaloo shrugged and lowered her shingle onto the roof. If she looked long enough, she could see rays of heat rising from its surface. She took the nail gently in her teeth and set it into place. She let out a little “Hi-yah!” as she slammed her hoof down on the fastener.
She lifted her hoof to find that rather than going through the shingle, her nail had merely bent in half. “Really? Really?”
She bit down on it and tried to pull it out, but only succeeded in lifting the roofing. She shook her head as the steady “pat, tick, thwack!” of Apple Bloom’s work assailed her ears. She set the shingle down and attempted to kick the nail upright, though it still refused to budge. She kicked it again, harder. Again, and again, and again she kicked.
She stomped on the offending nail, snorting steam. It more closely resembled a metal bow tie than anything used to hold a roof down. She flipped the shingle into the air and spun, readying her rear legs for a buck. Her kick met thin air, and she flopped to her stomach.
Apple Bloom looked down upon her with lidded eyes, hefting the abused roofing tile in one hoof. The farmer set the board down, grabbed a pry bar out of her vest pocket, and slid the teeth under the misshapen nail. One half-hearted kick later, the pry bar had, as was expected, pried the nail from its home.
“Ah appreciate the help, really,” Apple Bloom said. She tossed Scootaloo the pry bar. “Maybe you should hold on to this.”
“There, yah see?” Apple Bloom asked as she set a glass of ice-cold lemonade on the table. “Ah knew it wouldn’t take more than a couple hours!”
Scootaloo pushed her wet and frizzy mane out of her eyes. She grasped the lemonade and downed it in a single gulp. “More! Nourishment! More!”
“Okay, okay, keep yer feathers on straight.” Apple Bloom tipped a pitcher, filling Scootaloo’s cup with what might as well have been ambrosia. “Yah’d think ah led yah on an expedition to the Sandidry Desert.”
Scootaloo blew a breath between her lips. “More like the lifeless, barren wastes you have the audacity to call a roof. Of all the days for Cloudkicker to schedule a clear sky…”
“Grab a stray cloud next time, if’n yah want.” Apple Bloom took a large gulp from her glass. “Or make one with yer freaky pegasus powers, or somethin’.”
“Got a water source on standby that you’re not using for the apple trees?” Scootaloo asked. At her friend’s gesture to the negative, she shrugged. “Thought not.”
She leaned back in her seat and tilted her head back. “Besides, it’s not like one little cloud can make that much of a difference.”
Apple Bloom polished off her beverage and let loose a burp. “Hay, any little bit helps, right?”
The clomp of heavy hooves drew their attention to the road, where Applejack—Lord Mayor of Ponyville—was marching towards the farmhouse. She grumbled as she tugged at the cravat fastened around her neck. Her face was a stony mask of anger.
Apple Bloom tilted her head. “Long day at the office, Applejack?”
“Cud-chewin’ pansies and their protests and their bull-headed calls for impeachment and their stupid faces—” Applejack stomped a hoof. “You know what that ijit Ex-Mayor Mare wanted to do? She wanted to have me thrown in court for ‘Lowerin’ the morale of the city.’ Ain’t no law says ah gotta make everypony happy. Ain’t no law says ah gotta make anypony happy at all! Dumb road budget and dumb taxes.”
Apple Bloom passed her older sister a lemonade. “Y’ ever thought that maybe, just maybe, you ought to let the city run at least one celebration again? Just one Hearts and Hooves day?”
Applejack gave her little sister the stink-eye. “Ah’ll do just that as soon as we can walk on our own streets without breakin’ a leg.” She looked up at the barn’s roof and nodded in satisfaction. “Darn right it’s gonna keep the rain out. Lookin’ mighty fine.”
Scootaloo waved. “Don’t look too closely, Your Lordship”—Apple Bloom guffawed at that—“or you’ll see the spots where Apple Bloom had to charge to the rescue.”
Applejack loosened her cravat and walked over to the barn. She came out a few moments later with three apples balanced on her back. “Shucks, Scoots, we’re the Apple family. We don’t expect perfection on the first try.” She tossed an apple to each of the girls, which they caught in their mouths. “Or the second, or the third…”
Scootaloo stood and arched her back in a satisfying stretch. “Well, just for future reference, I’d rather slop the pigs than play ‘cat on hot tin roof.’”
“That could be arranged,” Apple Bloom chuckled.
“I’m serious,” Scootaloo said as she polished her apple on her coat.
“So am ah!” Apple Bloom cantered closer and took a big bite out of her apple. Her eyebrows danced. “Ah think Sugar Swine is sweet on yah.”
“Be still, my beating heart.”
Applejack chuckled as she appraised the rest of the farm. “All things bein’ equal, not too shabby for a first-time farmhand.”
“I could make it even more worth your while,” Scootaloo piped up. “I’ve got a technique that’ll have your fields watered in no time.”
Applejack’s brow furrowed. “Now, Sugarcube, we do things the traditional way here at Sweet Apple Acers. Pegasus magic—”
“Will do it in half the time with a third of the effort?” Scootaloo’s smirk showed a hint of teeth.
“Land sakes, girl, where’ve you been all my life?!” Applejack mussed Scootaloo’s mane and chuckled. “Ah’ll think about it.”
She walked over to the farm house’s porch and removed one of the steps. After a few moments of fishing around, she retrieved a few bits. “Work by the day, get paid by the day. Don’t spend it all in one place.”
Scootaloo’s wings fluttered as she cupped her hooves to accept the bits. “Thank you! I see this being the beginning of a beautiful partnership.”
Applejack drew up beside Apple Bloom and spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “Have summer jobs gotten more stable since ah was a filly, or what?”
Apple Bloom snickered. “Ah’ll see you at the clubhouse later, right?”
“Ahuh.” Scootaloo trotted over to her scooter, which was tied up to Sweet Apple Acres’ entry arch. She leaned on the handle bars and smiled at her friend. “Thanks for the opportunity, AB. Sorry about being kind of whiny.”
“S’ nothin’.” Apple Bloom waved her off. “But really, bring a cloud next time we’re on a roof. See yah!”
“See yah!” Scootaloo gripped the handle bars and kicked the back of her scooter. It spun around once before coming to a stop underneath her hoof. She clicked her helmet into place as she started beating her wings.
She was off, the wind in her mane and the sun at her back. She weaved along the dusty road back to Ponyville, leaning from side to side. The next part of the road was her favorite: The rough spot.
“Hah. And they wanna fix this?”
She brought her front wheel up and hopped across a sizable pothole. She continued hopping on her rear wheel for a few paces before bringing her scooter level and speeding on her way.
A lip of dirt jutted out of the ground just in front of her. She picked up speed. Her eyes narrowed. Her pulse pounded. She gritted her teeth and took the jump.
At the apex of her arc through the sky, she was weightless. Nothing holding her to the ground. Nothing dragging her down. Nothing in her way.
There was nothing holding her up either. She zipped towards the unforgiving, rocky road. A flutter of her wings angled her trajectory to the side, killing a small bit of her downward momentum. She heard her wheels crunch against the soil as she slid to a halt.
She looked over her shoulder. “Good air this time. Could be better.” She ran a hoof across her chin. She imagined building the “ramp” higher, but figured the Apples had a hard enough time on the road without it. She considered smoothing out the soil leading up to it, but didn’t like the thought of losing the bumps. She looked at the sky and frowned at the vast blueness of it all.
“Could be much better.”
At her top land speed, it was only a few minutes before she found herself downtown. She rolled past the shops and houses until she came up to a small building with a green roof. A sign hung above the front door, displaying the image of both a feather pen and a couch.
She pushed the door open and walked inside. “Dad! Dad, I’m home!”
A beige stallion, whose cutie mark was extremely similar to the sign outside his store, turned with a smile on his face. “Scootaloo! Good first day at work?”
“Hot!” she said as she hugged him. “Fierce, direct sunlight! Hours of potential heatstroke!” She grinned and brought out her pile of bits. “But kinda worth it.”
He ruffled her mane and walked back to the sofa he was inspecting. “Mom will be home in about an hour.”
“’Kay,” Scootaloo said. She trotted up the staircase two at a time. “I’m heading to the clubhouse after supper!”
The second door on the right led to Scootaloo’s room. It was carefully arranged; a bed sat by the window, a writing desk was situated beside her closet door, and the walls were decorated with posters of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Wonderbolts soared though one vintage poster, trailing flashing storm clouds and gossamer snowflakes. A lightning bolt struck through the center of another image, sparkling with pixie dust and framing a determined, grinning mare.
In the poster at the center of the wall, arrayed in full Wonderbolt regalia, was a rainbow-maned, blue-coated mare. The autograph over the top read “Keep being awesome, Squirt” in scrawling, swirly scribbles.
Scootaloo stared at this poster for a while. A smile twitched its way to her lips as she took in the six colors threading through the mare’s mane and tail. Her eyes ran up and down the uniform, studying every stitch and seam. Her smile fell when she came to the wings, unfurled and stretching upwards as if in flight.
She walked up to her door and shut it, revealing the mirror fastened to the back. She grimaced at the way her mane sat eschew on her head, and moved to smooth it back to its usual slight curl. “Gotta love helmet hair.”
She turned to the side, her profile filling the mirror. Her eyes scrutinized her long, narrow legs and torso. She flexed, and noted with satisfaction that she was not so much thin as she was lean. There was certainly no shortage of muscle, finely tuned to give her speed, speed, and more speed, along with no small amount of control. The cutie mark on her flank was lavender, to match her eyes. It swirled and spun until the wispy lines outlined the image of a butterfly in flight.
She spread her wings and pointed them at the ground, then let her front legs drop out from beneath her.
She grinned daringly at her reflection, suspended only by her wingtips. The wings bent, bringing her chin nearly to the ground, and then brought her back up to her original position. She repeated the wing-up several more times, each more rapid than the last. She lifted one last time and smirked at her double in the mirror.
“Bet ya can’t.”
A wing lifted, leaving her suspended by the other one alone. She pulled off a few slow wing-ups with that wing, then a few more with the other. “But I can.”
She stood, taking in slow, deep breaths. A jingle sounded out below, accompanied by a light, flowery voice. “I’m home!”
Scootaloo smiled at her reflection. “Make ’em proud, Scootaloo.”
Dusk settled over Sweet Apple Acres. A small light poured forth from the old clubhouse, illuminating a pony’s activity within. Scootaloo rolled between the trees, her tail flapping in her wake. She came to a stop at the foot of a towering apple tree and left her scooter beneath its leaves. It was a short hop up the steps leading to the doorway, a hop that grew shorter as the years went by.
Behind the door, singing softly, was a white-coated mare. She dusted off a shelf with the tip of her curly, lavender-and-pink tail. She turned to Scootaloo, the light from the lamp reflecting off of her frameless glasses. “Hi, Scootaloo!
“Hay, Sweetie Belle,” Scootaloo said. “Glad you could make it. I half expected you wouldn’t come.”
“A lady keeps her appointments.” Sweetie looked around at the clubhouse. “No matter how humble they may be, or how much better the boutique would be for hosting a sleepover.”
“It’s not so bad.” Scootaloo sat on a stool and rocked back and forth. “We really did a great job fixing up this place.”
Sweetie nodded, a frown on her face. “Yeah. In the ‘good old days.’”
Scootaloo chuckled. “I didn’t know we were old enough to have ‘good old days.’”
“We aren’t.” Sweetie Belle opened a set of saddlebags she had set to the side. She hovered a box of cookies out and set them on the table. “I was being ironic.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Scootaloo hopped the stool closer to Sweetie and wrapped a wing around her shoulders. “So what’s new, Sweetie Belle?”
Sweetie returned the hug with her foreleg. “Business at the boutique is good! I got at least five orders ready for delivery today.” She giggled. “I’ve even started to get clients that ask specifically for my designs.”
Scootaloo laughed. “You’re gonna outshine Rarity if you keep trucking like that.”
“Don’t you dare let her hear you say that,” Sweetie said. “I love her dearly, but I think those envious ears of hers can detect a stray compliment all the way in Canterlot.”
Scootaloo cleared her throat. “I said: Sweetie Belle is going to outshine Rarity one of these days!”
“Oh…” Sweetie Belle blew out a breath. “That’s gotta be worth at least one strongly-worded letter.”
“Please.” Scootaloo patted her friend on the back. “She’s proud of you, and you know it.”
Sweetie pushed her glasses up her nose. She smiled. “It’d be hard to deny it.”
“You’re practically a mini-Rarity.” Scootaloo flapped her wings and jumped off the stool. “Like Apple Bloom’s turning into a mini-Applejack.”
“We are not!” Sweetie Belle placed a hoof over her chest. She held that pose until she gave Scootaloo a wicked grin. “Rainbow Junior.”
“Ouch, mare.” Scootaloo glanced out a window. The moon appeared in the sky. “But not quite.”
Sweetie Belle brought out three plates and began to arrange the cookies by color, shape, and flavor. She sent Scootaloo a glance out of the corner of her eye, her eyebrows low. “You okay?”
Scootaloo tilted her head. Her purple mane bumped against the window. She rolled her eyes, pulled back from the glass, and settled on the floor. Her wings beat slowly as she spoke. “Crusaders. We’ll always be crusaders in some way or another, won’t we?”
Sweetie Belle looked back to her rump, where the image of a swinging silver bell sat. Musical notes danced at its side, as if flying out of it. “I like to think I’ve gotten everything I’ve crusaded for.” She pulled a blanket out of her saddlebags and wrapped it around Scootaloo’s shoulders. “But I guess that just means I get to crusade for others, now.”
Sweetie smirked. “It might take us a while, but we manage to get things done. Somehow.”
Scootaloo’s mouth became a thin line. She stared into space for a second, before a smile slowly returned to her face. “Yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right.”
The door opened as Apple Bloom strode through. She had ditched her vest and bun in favor of a bow that held most of her mane out of her face. She raised an eyebrow at her two friends sitting by the window. “Shucks, what’d ah miss?”
“Nothing, actually.” Sweetie Belle tossed another blanket to Apple Bloom. “I made you both cookies for a snack. Go on, try them out!”
Apple Bloom snatched the cloth out of the air. She looked over the three dessert plates with shining eyes. “Hay, they ain’t burned at all!”
“Your faith in my abilities is both astounding and inspiring.” Sweetie Belle lifted a cookie on a current of magic. She bit into it with a satisfied “Mm!” She grinned. “See? Not poisoned.”
Apple Bloom slid her plate off the table and carried it to the center of the room. “Ah ’preciate it, Sweets.”
Sweetie Belle gave her a smug smile. She carried both her plate and Scootaloo’s to the center of the room and sat on a third blanket. “Come and join us, Scootaloo.”
“Yup.” Scootaloo reached them in two bounds. She sat down with her blanket draped around her shoulders like a cape. She eagerly took her cookies. “Thank you kindly!”
“As I was telling Scootaloo, Apple Bloom,” Sweetie said, “business is quite good at the Carousel Boutique. Many orders both coming in and flowing out, and—”
Apple Bloom chuckled. “Yah didn’t have to steal fabric from yer sister again, didja?”
“Ha.” Sweetie Belle bit into a cookie to deliberately stall the conversation. “I’ll have you know that as a respectable businessmare, I am beneath such things.”
Scootaloo swept her blanket over the bottom half of her face and glared over it. “Vee must not qvestion zee meestress.”
“Pfft.” Apple Bloom leaned forward. “Know what ah think?”
Sweetie Belle’s lips pursed. “Hmm?”
“Ah think yah need to spend a li’l time workin’ down on the farm with me’n Scootaloo.” She closed her eyes and nodded to herself. “That’ll make yah nice an’ respectable.”
Sweetie leveled her eyebrows. “I think we can all guess how that’d turn out.” She prodded her soft flank. “You guys are the muscle here, not me.”
She rose and made her way over to a discarded set of saddlebags. She withdrew a brush and set to work on her curly mane. “Speaking of that, how was your first day as a Pseudo-Apple, Scootaloo?”
“Not too bad,” Scootaloo replied. “A little grease, a little sweat…”
“A lotta whinin’,” Apple Bloom sniggered.
“Yeah. That, too.” Scootaloo bit her lip and chewed for a moment before continuing. “It kinda made me start to think.”
Apple Bloom tilted her head as Sweetie perked an ear in their direction. “Thinkin’ ’bout what?”
Scootaloo munched on a double-chocolate chip as she gathered her thoughts. “Flying.”
Sweetie Belle’s head dipped down a few centimeters. “Oh.”
After taking a large bite of her cookie, Apple Bloom rolled her muscular shoulders and leaned on her forelegs. “Well, go’wan, Scootaloo. Thinkin’ what ’bout flying?”
Scootaloo looked out the window and into the night. “I shoulda just been able to fly off and be back with some shade in a flash. But I couldn’t. I’m almost a full-grown mare, and I can barely get off the ground.”
Sweetie opened her mouth, but Scootaloo cut her off with a lifted foreleg. “Hay, I know nopony thinks less of me, but I’m tired of them just not thinking less.”
“Well, good,” Sweetie Belle said. “Lots of ponies think way more of you than just how well you can fly.” The unicorn placed her hoof over Scootaloo’s and lowered it to the ground. “I… I thought you knew that.”
“Hay.” Apple Bloom walked behind Scootaloo and placed her chin on the pegasus’ shoulder. “You ain’t never gonna be judged that unfairly. Not by yer friends. Yer more’n a pair of wings.”
Scootaloo smirked and pushed Apple Bloom away. “Okay, okay, don’t go getting all sappy on me.” She looked at Sweetie. “And I know that, I really do. I just—”
She tapped her teeth together. “I really wanna fly, you guys. I’m tired of waiting.”
Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom shared a glance. Sweetie put a hoof on Scootaloo’s shoulder. “You know we’re with you, right?”
Apple Bloom stomped her foot on the floor. “Darn tootin’! We found our cutie marks by workin’ together, and heck if we ain’t gonna do it all over again!”
Scootaloo bit her lower lip in the midst of her grin. “You guys are the best, you know that?”
“Eeyup,” Apple Bloom chuckled.
Sweetie smirked. “You know what this means, right?”
Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle drew closer to Scootaloo. The speedster gulped. “Aheh. What?”
“Group hug!” came the chorusing answer. Scootaloo was buried underneath a small pile of pony limbs as the others expressed their affection for her. Her groan was drowned out by giggles as the three of them lay jumbled together in that old clubhouse in the apple orchard.