//------------------------------//
// Park Benches 
// Story: Kicked 
// by Teq 
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Park Benches


Scootaloo waited nervously by the wall as Sweetie closed, locked and checked the door. She snuggled into her scarf, not for warmth but as a disguise. She didn’t usually where scarves, so she hoped that at a glance nopony would question her. She wanted to try and avoid as many ponies as possible, mainly out of fear. It’d been about a week and a half since her nightmares had started. Sweetie Belle had been trying over the course of that time to help her, to soothe her when she awoke, shaking and sweating, and to ease her fears, worries and senses of guilt.

After the night she’d spent with Sweetie, after her first of many nightmares to come, she’d migrated back to Sweetie’s room. She had a few reasons, primarily because Sweetie assured her that she would always be there in case of further problems, and that she didn’t need to sleep in the same bed as her to know that. It was for her sake really. She didn’t want to be that oppressive friend who didn’t think about anypony but themselves. Also, she liked the warmth in Sweetie’s room more than the draughty cold of the guest room. Still, she missed the comfort of having Sweetie by her side.

Since that night Sweetie dominated Scootaloo’s thoughts. She was the only thing she thought about during her every waking moment, and amidst her nightmares there were a few nice dreams that made her feel warm inside when she awoke. But this came at a consequence. She was desperate to be closer to Sweetie, to relive that night (the good parts, not the scary parts) but she knew that such a thing was not likely. Sweetie had made it clear to her the following morning that what had happened was a mistake and that she wouldn’t do it again. Scootaloo had tried to play it cool. She acted as though it didn’t matter to her, that she didn’t care and she was just happy to have her as a friend. But it ate her up inside, twisting her round an axle and with every day that passed she could feel the frustration growing as she got more and more tense. She knew it wasn’t good for her, but what could she do?

Of course, her mind liked to play tricks on her and hurt her. She would have dreams about Sweetie, dreams so vivid she would wake the next morning unable to tell whether or not it had actually happened. When she next saw Sweetie she would tense up, not sure whether to bring it up or just let it die. Then there were the worst dreams. The dreams that left her as a nervous wreck amongst her (or in this case Sweetie’s) bed sheets. They would start off good, usually as one of her fantasies with Sweetie Belle. Things would be fine for a while, and they even got fairly intimate at times, but then things would come full circle and plunge her into darkness as something terrible happened. She’d only had two of those dreams, but they were equally horrible. In the first, she and Sweetie had been sharing a close midnight session, before, just as Scootaloo was beginning to relax, she pushed herself away and left Scootaloo alone, exposed, with the howling wind sounding all too similar to the cruel laughs of the ponies watching from the trees as they pointed and degraded her. The other time was less psychological and more psychopathic. It had started in a similar way, but in this instance she’d waited for Sweetie Belle to relax herself, before she lost complete control of herself. She yelled and spat, cuffing Sweetie Belle as she cowered before her, hooves over her head and tears streaming her face. The worst part about that one was that she didn’t even know why she was angry, she just knew that for some reason she felt the need to hurt Sweetie. Was this a visual representation of what she was doing to Sweetie mentally? Was her dependence and her selfishness beating Sweetie down, forcing her to comply with her every whim to save herself the torment of the mental abuse?

Such thoughts did not bear thinking about. She’d cut back on the number of things she was asking Sweetie to do for her. She no longer sought her company after her night horrors. She instead stayed alone in Sweetie’s room with the light on shaking until she’d calmed herself down enough to attempt to go back to sleep. It was killing her. She was beginning to feel like she was distancing Sweetie. Would Sweetie think that this was an attempt to drive her away? To stop her helping? There just was no middle ground anymore. One way, Scootaloo felt too oppressive, the other way she felt as though she was neglecting Sweetie Belle and her care. It was like walking a tight rope made of razor wire.

The day before, Sweetie had sat down next to Scootaloo. Scootaloo didn’t react. She just continued to stare down at the table. Sweetie rested a hoof on her shoulder, “Scootaloo, I think it’s time you tried to get back into the swing of things. You can’t lock yourself away in here forever. How about tomorrow you and I go out into town and just spend some time together? We’ll do whatever you want to do. There must be something you miss about Ponyville after all this time! And you don’t have to worry about any of those nasty ponies either, because I’ll be right next to you all the way and we’ll just steer clear of them. Sound good to you?”
“I guess.” Sweetie smiled and gently squeezed on Scootaloo’s hoof.
“I’m so proud of you. You’re being very brave. I know you’ve not had the easiest time recovering so far, but I think that this could really help. Just you and me spending some time together and having some fun. Why don’t you think about what you want to do? I’m up for anything, so go wild.”
“Thanks Sweetie.” Scootaloo squeezed Sweetie’s hoof in return, smiling back. She was genuinely pleased that Sweetie was there, trying to help her.

Of course, for a few hours after this conversation she was beginning to have doubts. It was as if her mind was determined to find reasons why this was a bad idea. What if they did run into Diamond or one of her friends? What if they couldn’t avoid them and they started to make fun of her again? What would she say if they asked why she’d been skipping school? What if they followed her; refused to leave her alone? What if they went after Sweetie Belle? What if they hurt her too? She couldn’t stand the idea of somepony hurting Sweetie Belle. She could take a small knock or too, she felt confident about that. But anything particularly cold or stinging and she’d lose it. She didn’t want to appear weak, but she knew, deep down, that if they brought out any of their heavy artillery they’d leave her in a heap of woe and sorrow. And if they laid a hoof on Sweetie Belle then she’d collapse. She’d completely freak out; have a nervous breakdown. She just wouldn’t be able to deal with it.

She eventually got over those fears (after some serious effort) and decided to cast her mind into the pool of possibilities. What did she want to do? There was so much she’d missed, so much she needed to catch up on. She wanted to go back to Sugar Cube Corner. It had been host to some of her best memories, including the moment when she and Sweetie Belle had met Apple Bloom. But it also held some of her worst, like the moment she and Apple Bloom finally realised that their friendship just couldn’t be sustained, not with Scootaloo being the way she was. But still, she wanted something delicious and sugary to eat, and she wanted to go back. She felt confident that what she needed to do above all else was come to terms with what had happened there. She had to go there, sit down and have a good time, if only to prove to herself that she could get over everything. Her mind made up, she slept well that night. Up until the point where she was awoken by a dream about Diamond beating up Sweetie Belle.

She’d been a little apprehensive the following morning (that morning), but seeing Sweetie give her a warm smile before swinging a light jacket over herself filled her with the confidence she needed to get a scarf to hide in and step back into the outside world once again. She absentminded crossed her hooves as she waited for Sweetie Belle to tuck the house key in her jacket pocket, smile at her once again and ask, “So what do you want to do? We have all day. Rarity’s out on business and she’s not coming back until tomorrow, so we could stay out all day and all night if you want.”
“Thanks Sweetie. I don’t think we’ll need to stay up all night. I only want to do one thing.” Well, that statement in itself was a lie. She wanted to go to Sugar Cube Corner, sure. She wanted to sit outside and pony watch for a while, but she also wanted to snuggle up close to Sweetie and have her stroke her mane in an affectionate way. Just one of the many fantasies she’d conjured up.

Sweetie nodded to herself, “I see. And that is?”
“I want to go to Sugar Cube Corner. I want to prove to myself that I can get over my past.”
“That’s a very mature thing to say Scootaloo. You’re handling this very well.”
“Well, so long as I’m with you, I can’t complain. Just… make sure to steer clear of Diamond if you see her. I don’t want to have to engage with her at the moment.”
“I understand that. Don’t you worry. You just focus on having a good time and you let me worry about them.” Scootaloo thanked her and together they set off down the road towards town.

Scootaloo looked all around her. She’d not been outside in a while, and it felt good to have the wind in her mane once again. It felt good to feel the smooth cobbles beneath her hooves and hear the sounds of the town after so long isolated from it. She walked slowly, savouring this experience. She felt she was getting better. Her night times were still a minefield, but at least she was beginning to feel a little better about herself, about her situation in general. She wanted today to go without a hitch to give her that boost she needed to carry her all the way.

They reached the outskirts of the town, the buildings on either side beginning to close in as the crowd of busy ponies bustled past and bartered with each other. A pony at the side of the road with a violin was busking merrily and ponies on their way past occasionally threw a bit into the case that lay before him, prompting a thanks and a smile from the busker. Scootaloo liked the music. It was smooth, soft and gentle. Just like Sweetie Belle. The tune reminded her of Sweetie.

Scootaloo noticed the crowds get even thicker, and she began to get nervous. She’d not been amongst so many ponies for a while. She kept craning her neck, attempting to spot any of Diamond’s crew members on patrol, looking for her. At one point she thought she saw her and immediately scampered off in a different direction, hiding next to a cherry stand, much to the owner’s annoyance. Sweetie had had to run after her and convince her to keep going, assuring her that it wasn’t Diamond and was just another pony with the same mane colour. Scootaloo had been sceptical at first, but Sweetie had ultimately been right. The pony was actually a young colt with a similar colour scheme to Diamond. Scootaloo felt rather foolish, but Sweetie assured her that anypony could have made that mistake and she was just a little skittish having not been out and about in so long.

The rest of their trip was pretty uneventful. Amidst mild panic attacks from Scootaloo every time she saw somepony she thought was making a beeline for her, there was the occasional police pony that walked past in their sleek black uniforms and occasionally the busker would change like a radio station. First there was the violinist, but a street on from him was a mare who was singing into a microphone in a heavenly voice that seemed to magically pull the bits out of the wallets of passing stallions, and further on still was a pony donning a trilby and strumming on an acoustic guitar, leaning on a wall and occasionally jumping to life as he hit a particularly passionate set of chords before falling back into solitude, waiting for the next opportunity to scare the daylights out of a passing foal.

Scootaloo could see the roof of Sugar Cube Corner coming into view over the heads of the ponies in front of her. As they neared, she made out the familiar structure, with its almost gingerbread appearance and buzzing atmosphere. She couldn’t see Pinkie, but she was probably inside serving ponies. She scanned the tables, looking for one that wasn’t already taken. She was always annoyed when she saw a table for four being occupied by a single lonely stallion with a newspaper and a coffee, but she wasn’t in a position to complain. Then Scootaloo made a quick about turn and walked back the way she’d come, causing Sweetie to hurriedly pull herself around and catch up with her.

“Hey, what’s the matter? What was that all about?”
“They’re here. I should I have known. Why wouldn’t they be here on their day off? I’ve been really stupid. Let’s just go back to your place and do a Sudoku puzzle or something.”
“Come on Scoots, we’re not going back to my place yet, not after you’ve made it this far. Besides, I hate Sudoku. If you aren’t comfortable going to Sugar Cube Corner anymore, we can just go somewhere else. Is there anywhere else you’d like to go?” Scootaloo looked back over her shoulder. There they were, sitting at a table by the door, their pastries in hoof and their drinks on table. Diamond was there with her smug face and stupid accessory item and Silver Spoon with her necklace and glasses, both talking and laughing and scanning the crowd. Scootaloo felt Diamond’s gaze brush over her and she plastered herself to the floor, slinking behind another stall as she had a mild heart attack. Sweetie came after her and grabbed hold of her hoof, “It’s okay, they didn’t see you. They’re still at the table. Come on, Scoots. Let’s get out of here. We’ll go somewhere else, somewhere more quiet where they won’t come looking for us.”

Scootaloo let Sweetie pull her up with her hoof before peering back at her nemesis. She wanted nothing more than to put Diamond’s head through the table she was sitting at, but resisted. She knew it would only end badly, and she’d likely come out minus a tooth and plus a police caution. She tightened the scarf around her neck, then loosened it slightly as it choked her. For a brief moment her vision blurred and she felt the rope around her neck once again. She began to choke and she wrapped her hooves around her neck, trying to reassure herself that there was nothing there, that she was fine. Sweetie shook Scootaloo by the shoulders and she snapped back to the present, pale as a sheet and shaking slightly, her hooves still clutching at her throat. Sweetie had a worried look on her face, and after Scootaloo had assured her that she was okay, she sighed and said, “Want to go to the park?”

And so they decided to instead venture into the realm of the park. Scootaloo had good memories here. She’d devised most of her old scooter tricks here, and it was here where she first met Sweetie Belle. She’d been alone, minding her own business like any normal pony would do, when she heard a sound. A sound like somepony was upset. Like she was hurt. She’d abandoned her scooter and went to see what the noise was, ready for a fight should she have to resort to self-defence. The noise was coming from a young, snow white filly with curly hair and a unicorn’s horn poking out from the crown of her head. She was behind a tree, her face in her hooves, laying down and crying. Scootaloo had picked her up and asked her what was wrong. Sweetie told her about Diamond and Silver Spoon, about how horrible they were and it was something they immediately connected on. Then Scootaloo noticed that the filly lacked a cutie mark, and thus their friendship was forged, as they swore to stick by each other and protect each other from harm. Since that day, she’d always stood up for Sweetie Belle when she didn’t stand up for herself; she was always there to defend her, even before Apple Bloom arrived. Now that she thought about it, this whole scenario was kind of a role reversal, only on a much larger scale.

They walked for a while along the small footpath that circumnavigated the park, admiring the scenery and making light conversation about whatever sprang to mind. Occasionally a pony would walk past, saddlebags on their backs or a young foal in tow. They would pass the odd park bench with a pony sitting to take a rest, or having a pleasant chat or simply finding a place to sit and eat away from the thoroughfare of the town. Scootaloo smiled. This was fun. She was having fun. She enjoyed coming back here, taking a casual stroll with Sweetie Belle whilst they talked about nothing of any use and watched ponies go by. It was quite therapeutic; exactly what Scootaloo needed. Screw Sugar Cube Corner, this was what she wanted to do! She didn’t need to stand up to her past to be happy, she just needed Sweetie Belle.

Soon they were by a lake front, looking out over the clear blue water which shimmered brightly in the sunlight, the green hills and field beyond making it look like the perfect painting. There was the soft sound of birds chirping in the trees surrounding the lake, and occasionally a duck or goose would appear on the water’s surface, duck under and then shoot off in another direction altogether. The breeze added the rustle of leaves and the swish of grass to the ambience and, although rather mild, made this perhaps the best place to be in all of Ponyville. At least, that was Scootaloo’s opinion. To make things better, there wasn’t a pony in sight along the entire of the lake. Actually that wasn’t quite true; there were a couple on the other side sitting together on a bench and a fisherpony a few hundred metres on, but there wasn’t a pony in sight that was headed their way or ruined the mood. If anything they helped to make it feel more authentic.

Sweetie Belle sat down on one of the park benches and gazed out over the lake, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it Scoots?”
“Yea. Really something.” Scootaloo sat down next to her, resting her hooves and allowing her to fully appreciate the wonder of the scenery. She wasn’t distracted for long though. The scenery got boring very quickly and she looked around for something else to interest her. Her gaze fell on Sweetie Belle, who was still absentmindedly staring off into the distance.
“See, this is nice. Are you having a good time out here?”
“Yea. It’s… peaceful.” The lake was tranquil with just the occasional ripple as the soft breeze blew across its surface. It really did help to put her mind at ease. For a moment she forgot everything and just basked in the bliss of this quiet, reassuring place.

“How’s that scarf then? Cozy?”
“Oh, uh, yea. Yea, it’s nice. Thanks for letting me borrow it.”
“You can keep it. I never wear it anyway. I’ve got more scarves than I know what to do with, thanks to Rarity. Still, it does look quite nice.”
“Do you want it back? Here, you can take it.” Scootaloo began to carefully undo the scarf before Sweetie piped up in protest.
“No, I insist, you should keep it. See it as a gift if you must.”
“But it is your scarf. I want you to have it. I don’t want to take any of your things. Nothing that you might actually want, anyway.”
“Please, keep it.”
“Okay, then we’ll share it. I won’t be happy unless you’re happy,” Scootaloo unwound the scarf and threw one end round Sweetie’s shoulders, drawing her in and forcing them to make contact. “There. Now we can both be satisfied.” Sweetie giggled softly.
“Thanks, Scootaloo.”

There was a brief silence that fell between the two as both savoured the moment in all its glory. Sweetie rested her head on Scootaloo’s shoulder, causing her heart to skip. Scootaloo allowed herself to relax, resting herself. After all, if Sweetie were true to her word, ‘It won’t happen again’. Or, wouldn’t, to be precise. She sighed. Sweetie may not want it to happen again, but Scootaloo did. Whilst Sweetie continued to gently nuzzle the crook of Scootaloo’s neck, the pegasus drifted into a dream world. She called up some of her more vivid fantasies and replayed them in her head. She could still enjoy those, at any rate. Besides, it was nice to just sit here with Sweetie, sharing a close moment together with nopony else to bother them as they gazed over the breath taking scenery.

But what took Scootaloo’s breath away more was the sudden feel of Sweetie’s lips quickly glide over her cheek and then retreat back is if they’d never been there. Scootaloo stiffened up, her body tense as Sweetie blushed and giggled softly. Scootaloo said nothing, admittedly quite surprised at Sweetie’s actions, but no less thrilled. Maybe there was some hope after all. Sweetie sighed and in a quiet voice no louder than a murmur said, “I’m sorry, Scootaloo. I know I said it wouldn’t happen again but I couldn’t help myself. The scenery’s perfect, it’s nice and quiet, we’re all alone and close and I suppose you already guessed how I feel about you. I wish you felt the same way.” She sighed once more and rested her head in the crook of Scootaloo’s neck again. Scootaloo gently pushed her off her shoulder and she whined in protest. “Oh. I hope this won’t come between us. I don’t want to hurt you; understand that that was never my intention.” She glanced awkwardly off to one side. Scootaloo didn’t respond with words. Instead she gently took hold of Sweetie’s muzzle and turned her back round, gently but confidently pressing her lips onto hers in a show of affection.

For a while they remained locked in that pose, neither of them making any bold moves, but simply enjoying the sensation. Eventually Sweetie broke the contact, gently asking, “So you do feel the same way?”
“Yea. I suppose so.”
“Well that’s… good.” A brief pause.
“Wanna kiss some more?”
“Yes.” Scootaloo moved in close to initiate another kiss, but Sweetie stopped her short. “But this time, can we do it properly? It’s more fun that way.”

Scootaloo brought both her hooves up, one cradling Sweetie Belle’s neck, the other pulling on the long scarf that locked them together. She pulled Sweetie close, their muzzle gently brushing together mere inches from a full, passionate embrace. Sweetie’s breath was hot on Scootaloo’s face, and came in short, sharp bursts as the anticipation of what was to come excited her. Scootaloo was deliberately holding back, trying to fluster Sweetie as she waited, her patience quickly beginning to wear thin. After a few more moments, Scootaloo ended Sweetie’s torment and their lips once again came into contact, gently pushing against each other, neither of them prepared to make the next move.

This was happening. This was actually happening! Scootaloo felt like melting butter in the warm grip of Sweetie’s hooves and the scarf around her neck. She giggled internally, pleased and quite relieved to at last be able to share her passion with another pony. And that pony was Sweetie Belle; the pony who had not only proved her blind devotion to her, but had also saved her life. Scootaloo couldn’t think of anypony she’d rather be sharing this moment with. Nor could she imagine a more perfect place to be kindling this desire, letting her insides build up into a blaze that could have lit all of Equestria. And she wanted Sweetie to know it.

She gently began to drag her tongue over Sweetie’s lips, enticing her into opening them and promising her services in return. Both fully awake this time round, they timidly poked each other’s tongues as they fought for an advantage, which at last Scootaloo won, sliding her tongue over the top of Sweetie’s to poke the insides of her mouth. Scootaloo felt Sweetie noticeable relax and gently place her hooves around her neck, carefully pulling her inwards. She laid off her assault for a bit to give Sweetie Belle a chance to assert herself, but soon realised that she much preferred being the dominant one and went back to leading the way.

Scootaloo gave a small gasp of ecstasy as Sweetie began to playfully tug on her mane. She briefly opened her eyes to take a look around her. Sweetie had her eyes closed in the heat of her passion, hooves around Scootaloo’s neck and pulling on the back of her rather unkempt mane. Scootaloo glanced quickly to one side and noticed a stallion (about her age) standing on the path a few yards off staring at them with interest, a stupid grin plastered over his muzzle like it had been painted there by an interior decorator who’d stopped giving a shit. Scootaloo furrowed her brow and, with resentment, pulled away from Sweetie so she could call over to him, “Hey, piss off! I’m trying to have an intimate moment here!”

The stallion ducked his head as his cheeks glowed a bright red, quickly making an about turn and scurrying off down the path (likely in the direction he’d already come). Scootaloo grinned. Sweetie glanced over her shoulder, “Pervert. He didn’t… you know… take any pictures of us do you think?”
“He didn’t have a camera.”
“Yea, but… I don’t want him showing any pictures of us to all his friends. Oh, I can’t bear the thought!”
“Nah, I reckon we’re fine. Besides, why does that bother you so much? You’re not ashamed to be seen with me, are you?” Scootaloo waited with baited breath for the response, her heart thumping at a mile a minute. What if she was ashamed? Then why would she have risked it in public? Maybe she was just feeling sorry for her. Was this just sympathy kissing? Was it all meaningless?

“No, I’m not ashamed to be seen with you. Actually I would happily make out passionately with you on the roof of the Boutique in broad daylight if you asked me to, I just don’t like the thought of this moment, our first real intimate moment, being shared amongst a bunch of horny stallions with nothing better to do.” Scootaloo let out a silent sigh (and an internal cry) of relief. So it wasn’t just sympathy. She wrapped one of her hooves around Sweetie’s shoulders, pulling her closer, the scarf tightening itself warmly around them. Sweetie rested her head on Scootaloo’s shoulder, nuzzling her softly. Scootaloo could feel her mane tickling her neck and she fought the urge to giggle childishly. Actually it was quite arousing. But now wasn’t the time for that. Now was the time for just basking in the love and care of another pony. It was different to the love and care her mother and father had harboured for her. Their definition of love and care was to tuck her into bed every night and help her with her homework. But with Sweetie Belle? It was warm hugs and kisses and confidence boosting compliments and a sense of passion that she’d never felt on another pony quite that way before. It was the sort of passion that said ‘I want to be with you, no matter what. No matter what happens, I want to be in your hooves’. That’s what it said.

Had she known about her love for Sweetie? Before her attempted suicide, no. Had she even known about her… sexual tendencies? Well, with few chances to experiment, no. But was she glad that she’d kindled a deep desire to be with Sweetie, to have her with her and to proudly call her marefriend? Yes. Yes, indeed she was. Before she would have stuck her tongue out and gagged at such a show of affection. Such things were way below a pony as awesome and cool as her. But she needed Sweetie Belle now, and she was willing to open up her secrets box for her because she was the closest thing that Equestria had ever come to perfection, and she would proudly announce it in front of everypony in town if she had to. Maybe, at last, she could begin to recover.

End.