Scootaloo opened her eyes to find herself lying on her back in her room, staring up at the ceiling above her bed. She didn't remember falling asleep, but she did remember that she had been lying on the couch in the living room, and not her bedroom. Confused as to how she'd gotten here from there, she lifted her head and scanned her eyes across the darkened room.

The lights were out, and the curtains were drawn, casting her bedroom into a deep, velvety darkness, or at least it would had the room not been strewn with steadily burning candles of all sizes, painting the darkened corners with a soft, flickering light. It took Scootaloo several seconds to realize any of this, however, as there was one element of the scene that drew her attention instantly and irrevocably.

She was standing at the foot of Scootaloo's bed, leaning on her elbows with her forelegs nonchalantly crossed in front of her and a tiny, shy smile on her face. Her mane was full and hung in long curls around her face, framing the blushing cheeks in a distinctly--and alarmingly--irresistible fashion. It was the mane that delayed Scootaloo's recognition of the other mare, although the lack of eyewear certainly compounded that. However, the string of brilliant, argent pearls gleaming softly in the candlelight was unmistakable, and realization slammed down on Scootaloo with breathtaking force.

"S-silver Spoon?" she stammered, her throat suddenly dry and her chest tight. The other filly's smile and blush both deepened as she put a hoof to her lips, rendering Scootaloo inexplicably mute. Something in Silver Spoon's face sent a thrill down Scootaloo's spine, tightening every muscle it passed and settling deep in her belly. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, she was faintly aware that her wings were struggling to escape from underneath her, and she unconsciously shifted to allow them to unfurl, slowly extending to their full--and impressive--span.

Scootaloo swallowed and struggled to a sitting position, trying to speak again. "W...what are you doing--" She faltered and trailed off as Silver Spoon hoisted herself up onto the bed, slinking towards her with a sultry grin and a coy gait, her flanks swaying ever so deftly as she approached the wide-eyed pegasus. Scootaloo's breath caught in her chest as she watched, mesmerized. Had she the capacity for rational thought, she might have been upset by this advance, even repulsed. She would have realized what was happening, and how utterly insane it was that she was sitting here, watching Silver Spoon coming closer with flames of desire flashing in her eyes, and how unfair it was that she was suddenly so wet, when she knew perfectly well that she was not like that, not like her mothers, not interested in mares in any way, and especially not Silver Spoon.

As it happened, however, Scootaloo could tell she did not have that capacity. Not right now, anyway. Right now, all she could do was stare at Silver Spoon's soft, wavy mane, watch her thick, lush tail slowly drifting through the air behind her, and squeak incomprehensibly as the other pony finally made her way up to where Scootaloo was still sitting on the bed, her breath coming in quick, nervous gasps. "S-silver Spoon," she gulped, startled to hear the nervous warble in her own voice, "w-what are you--"

She fell silent as Silver Spoon lowered her head coyly, glancing up at her from behind thick silver bangs. Then, the earth pony's face was coming back up at her, fast enough to surprise, but slowly enough that Scootaloo knew what was about to happen before it did. She could have stopped it. She should have.

She didn't.

The kiss was tentative and awkward at first. Scootaloo's eyes drifted up and then closed as a rush of arousal coursed through her belly and down between her legs, bringing a renewed rush of wet heat that pulled her legs together in anxious anticipation. Silver Spoon's lips pressed gently, almost apologetically against hers, but Scootaloo did not pull away or resist. After a moment, Scootaloo's temporarily disabled mind re-engaged long enough to frantically issue a thoroughly insane suggestion.

Kiss her back.

What a ridiculous thing to say. What was Scootaloo doing, if not returning the unexpected--albeit less unwelcome as the seconds ticked by--embrace? Her brain was not fooled.

Kiss her for real.

Scootaloo almost scowled at herself. That was not going to happen, not a chance. She was not going to reach up and put her hooves around Silver Spoon's shoulders, pulling her down into the bed and pressing her body against her own. Then, moments later, she was perplexed to discover that she had done precisely that. Well, at the very least she was not going to part her lips, like she was now, and slide her tongue across Silver Spoon's surprisingly tender, smooth and welcoming lips. She was not going to push past those tentatively opening lips and slip between them, curling her tongue around Silver Spoon's, wrap around it and savor the sultry, heady taste of her, feel the heat of her mouth and relish in the sudden fervor with which Silver Spoon was now pressing her body against Scootaloo.

Well, Scootaloo thought, somewhat miffed at her body's distinct failure to follow her commands, it's not as bad as I thought it would be. It occurred to her that this was a strange sentiment to express while her hips were anxiously pressing up into the pony on top of her, her wings extended and so stiff they hurt. But oh, Luna was it a magnificent, delicious sort of ache, the ache of voracious desire, the blood thundering through the taut, quivering muscles as the nerves at the base of her feathers tingled desperately, yearning to be touched. Her mind raced with tantalizing images of Silver Spoon's teeth running down the shaft of each individual feather, preening them with delicate nips and long, slow strokes. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she moaned softly into Silver Spoon's mouth. The other pony responded with a quiet murmur of her own and then, almost as if she had read the trembling pegasus' mind, reached out to caress the top edge of Scootaloo's left wing with a hoof.

The touch was electric. Bursts of pleasure shot up the ribs of the appendage, arcing through her pounding heart and forcing her eyelids tightly together. Her mouth fell open and a gasp of ecstasy escaped, startlingly audible in the otherwise quiet room. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Scootaloo registered some minute concern that they might be heard, discovered, but as Silver Spoon reached the far end of her shivering, quaking wing and started again at the base, her mind went blank, all thought blown away by the renewed ministrations.

Delirious with pleasure, she clung to her partner, holding her close and panting heavily into the silver fur on her chest. A knot was tightening deep in her belly, pulling her legs still more tightly together as the searing ember between them throbbed, the dampness spreading further and dripping down between them, soaking into her tail and the bedspread beneath. She was riding high on Silver Spoon's delicate attentions, the ache in her wings still pulsing in time with the heat in her nethers, and she knew, could feel herself approaching climax. Heart racing frantically, she pulled Silver Spoon closer, pressing their bodies together as tightly as she could, waiting...waiting...she was about t--

Scootaloo bolted awake as the slamming of Octavia's study door pulled her abruptly out of her fitful doze. Confused and alarmed, she shook her head and sat up, a brilliant flush rising to her cheeks as the dream she had just escaped came back into focus. What the buck was that about? she wondered. She started to turn and get up off the sofa but stopped short as one of her wings caught the edge of the couch. Glancing curiously at it, she discovered both of her wings were fully and unconsciously extended, just as they had been in the dream, the nerves still humming from the imaginary attentions. A nasty sinking feeling swept through her stomach as she wondered if any of the other ponies in the household had seen her in this state.

Panicking, she reached up and tried to manually fold the unruly appendages back against her sides, struggling as she did so to slow her heaving breaths and her racing heart. Despite their initial resistance, the muscles eventually slackened and the wings curled back up, and she sighed shallowly with relief. A similarly embarrassing sensation drew her attention elsewhere on her body, and she pressed her hind legs together, attempting to hide the additional physical responses to her alarmingly unexpected dream. The heat she had been bathed in was slowly fading, but her fur was still soaked with sweat and--to her absolute horror--she realized there was a distinct scent of arousal hanging in the air.

Mortified, she leaped up off the sofa and began to beat her wings furiously through the air, attempting to disperse and dilute the sultry odor before anyone else could come in and detect it. The pegasus pricked an ear towards the hallway where she could hear Sweetie Belle chatting with her mother in an excited squeak about the lesson they'd just completed. Apparently the occasionally flighty filly was making good progress. Content that at the very least the two musicians had been in the study for the past hour, Scootaloo's mind chose to wander unbidden back to the dream she'd just awoken from.

The blush on her cheeks darkened further as vivid images raced through her imagination, images she had never before concocted nor even considered. Scootaloo was no foal; she had run the gauntlet of budding marehood two years previous, and the precise function of her suddenly intensely sensitive nether parts was well understood--much of this understanding had come through personal experimentation, of course--so it was not exactly unusual for her to find herself in a state of blushing, tingling arousal at the sight of certain stallions. She had also learned, much to her horrified surprised, that unlike earth ponies and unicorns, who could easily hide their excitement, pegasi were cursed with the ill-understood autonomous reaction of stiffened wings that accompanied sexual titillation. Normally, it was possible to resist this urge, but unusually strong rushes of desire could still overpower her, and of course a sleeping pegasus had no control whatsoever.

Scootaloo was no stranger to erotic dreams, either. She had spent several nights basking in the thrilling company of some of her personal heroes--the exquisitely handsome and courageous Buck Yeager, the dashing and brilliant Bill Neigh, and even the local star and new Wonderbolt Thunderlane--each time waking up either flat on her back with her wings stretched awkwardly beneath her or on her stomach with her sheets propped up over her back in a ridiculous and supremely embarrassing tent. Never before had she found herself having such a dream about a mare--well, except for Rainbow Dash, but that was a special case, and didn't mean anything--and especially not about somepony as unpalatable as Silver Spoon. Scootaloo was no expert on female attractiveness (much to Sweetie Belle's occasional eye-rolling chagrin), but she was certain that if she was going to have romantic dreams about anypony, it would be someone more physically appealing, like--

Scootaloo shook her head again, attempting to dislodge the train of thought before it found its way to an inevitably awkward conclusion. Even so, a few faces flashed through her mind's eye, but she ignored them, focusing intently on the coffee table in front of her. She was stressed, that was all. Stressed about school and the project, stressed about her future and the Academy, about her parents' interference in her personal business, and somehow her brain, confused and stretched thin, had simply taken her recent experiences with Silver Spoon and the inherent frustration involved and injected them into her otherwise pleasant dreams. It was unsettling to be sure, but harmless. Well, she thought, blushing as the dampness between her hind legs began to cool, drawing her attention back to the awkward and obvious indicator of her arousal, almost harmless.

Sweetie Belle and Octavia were walking towards the front door. As they passed the entrance to the den, Scootaloo intently refocused her thoughts and glanced up at her friend with a transparently forced smile. "See you, Sweetie Belle."

Sweetie Belle didn't seem to sense anything out of the ordinary. "Bye, Scootaloo."

Octavia opened the door for her student and smiled warmly. "I will see you again next week, Sweetie Belle. Just remember to keep working on efficient hoofing and keeping a steady bow speed throughout long passages. Try to make some progress on the ninth etude, as well."

Sweetie Belle nodded, her expression tightening slightly. "Yeah...I'll try."

"Don't worry," Octavia said, beaming, "you'll get it eventually. Hard work makes hard music easier."

"Thanks, Miss Octavia. See you tomorrow, Scootaloo!" she repeated as she trotted out the front door and down the path.

Octavia closed the door behind her and looked over at her daughter, a narrow frown on her face. "So."

Scootaloo could only match her mother's gaze for a moment or two before she had to look away. "So?" she replied, feigning ignorance.

"Would you care to explain to me why you were snapping at Sweetie Belle earlier?"

"Not particularly," Scootaloo grumbled, intently studying the coffee table in front of her. Her cheeks were flushing again, and she was trying to keep them out of her mother's line of sight. She cast a few furtive glances at her face, trying to determine if Octavia had seen or could smell anything out of the ordinary.

"I see." Octavia walked into the room and sat next to her on the sofa, apparently oblivious. "Perhaps you ought to anyway."

Despite her concerns, the transparent command sent a flash of irritation and frustration searing through Scootaloo. "Yeah, well maybe it's none of your business!"

"Scootaloo!" Octavia scolded her, eyes widening and then narrowing in stunned exasperation. Scootaloo ignored her, heaving herself up off the sofa and stomping out of the room. She ignored her mother's repeated hails as she sulked down the hall into her room, slamming the door angrily behind her. She crossed the room to where her stereo stood and nosed the power button, bringing the machine to blue-lit life.

Although her mother preferred the more traditional vinyl records for her music collection, Scootaloo was a fan of the smaller, simpler CD. As such, her stereo--hoof-picked by her as a gift for her coming-of-age party a couple years earlier--had a large CD-changing feature. She had most of the albums' locations memorized, and almost unconsciously tapped the numbers on the face of the machine to pull up the right disc. The stereo hummed and whirred for a few moments before a soft click and a high-pitched whine indicated the CD had been dropped into place.

As she waited for the music to start, Scootaloo walked back across her room and collected her saddlebag, pulling the flaps open and extracting her books. She spread them out on her desk and sat down with a sigh while the first strains of a dark, pounding track began to pour out of the speakers behind her. Bobbing her head to the music, Scootaloo absently breezed through her schoolwork, only half paying attention, allowing her mind to wander slightly as she worked.

It was so typical of her mother to hear barely two seconds of an intense, private conversation that she didn't like before deciding she had to 'help' by butting in and demanding to be included. Didn't she get that not everything was her business? That sometimes Scootaloo could handle her own problems without her mother's unwelcome interference? Even Mama Vy--who was well known to be distinctly oblivious to societal norms--knew better than to try and micromanage somepony else's life. For some reason, Octavia just couldn't resist.

To that end, Scootaloo was moderately surprised that her mother hadn't chased her down the hall, demanding she apologize for her outburst and explain herself at once. Octavia wasn't exactly a harsh disciplinarian--neither of her parents were, really--and although her temper was a lot longer than Vinyl's, Scootaloo knew that there were some things that really pushed her buttons. Being walked out on was one of those things, and Scootaloo utilized this particular tactic to great success whenever she was feeling particularly...bratty. Normally Octavia would take the bait and stomp after her, demanding an apology, which Scootaloo would not, of course, provide. The resulting shouting matches almost always had to be defused by Mama Vy, who was of the unique mindset to understand both sides.

After a few minutes, she felt rather than heard somepony knocking on her door, and pricked an ear reflexively to hear not Octavia, but Vinyl say, "Hey Scooter, can I talk to you for a minute?" Scootaloo contemplated ignoring her just to spite Octavia, who she was certain had sent Vinyl to come talk to their 'impossible' daughter, but after a moment she decided that it wasn't worth it. Vinyl only had two states of mind: calm and playful--and irate and irrational. Octavia said she was passionate and fiery, giving her a startlingly short temper. To Scootaloo, it just meant she never made Mama Vy angry if she could avoid it.

Nosing her stereo's 'Pause' button, the Pegasus sulked over to the door and opened it, looking disdainful. "Yes?"

Vinyl smiled down at her, her brilliant crimson eyes half-lidded and calm. "Just wanted to chat for a bit. Mind if I come inside?"

Scootaloo frowned, but stepped back to admit her mother. The unicorn nodded her thanks and made her way inside the room, gently kicking the door closed behind her. This was something of a surprise; normally her mothers were big on leaving doors open unless they were practicing or listening to something, and even that wasn't strictly enforced. The unicorn smiled and shrugged, apparently reading her daughter's expression. "I figured if you were going to talk about what I'm about to ask, you'd want to do it privately."

"Oh...okay." Scootaloo looked at her curiously. "So...what did you want to talk about?"

"Well," Vinyl started, walking into the room a bit and settling down onto her haunches, "your mother tells me you were being exceptionally antagonistic this afternoon." She smirked. "Can't imagine how she could've gotten that idea. Your crashing hoofsteps up and down the hall seemed perfectly level-headed to me."

Scootaloo blushed lightly. "Yeah...sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

Vinyl shrugged. "It's okay. I was mostly just lazing about anyway. In any case, when you came back and turned your music on, I figured that was pretty much the end of any chance for more sleep, so I just came out to the living room. That's where I found Tavi sitting on the couch, obviously upset." She gave Scootaloo an appraising look, but the orange filly didn't flinch.

"Yeah, well, I don't like it when she tries to pry into my personal business."

"She's not prying, Scootaloo, she's just concerned."

"Well maybe she shouldn't say stuff like, 'Oh, perhaps you ought to tell me anyway, like it doesn't matter if I don't want to talk about it!" Scootaloo fumed, tossing her mane.

"Maybe," Vinyl agreed, nodding. "And that's something you might want to talk to her about later. Right now, though, she's just upset because she thinks there's something going on between you and Sweetie Belle, and she's just worried."

"It's fine," Scootaloo said. "There's nothing wrong, and even if there was, it's seriously none of her business."

"I agree," Vinyl said.

Scootaloo blinked, somewhat taken aback. "You...do?"

"Of course. I was a young mare once too, you know. I remember what it's like to have secrets you don't want to share with anyone but your diary. Heck, I bet I've got some secrets in my own diaries that would curl your ma--"

"AAAAAHH, NOT INTERESTED!" Scootaloo suddenly shrieked, throwing her hooves over her ears and holding them closed and pressing her face into her bedspread.

Vinyl giggled and nudged her. "Alright, alright. The point is, there's a way to tell her you want to keep your secrets, but the way you've been going about it is not the right one."

Scootaloo turned her head enough to look at Vinyl with one eye, lowering her hooves from atop her head. "Well, what is?"

The unicorn rolled her eyes. "Well, you could always, oh, I dunno...talk to her?"

Scootaloo barked out a laugh. "Talk? To Mama Tavi? Yeah, that's always worked out so well for me."

"Scootaloo..."

"No, Mama Vy, you know how she gets! She doesn't want to listen to me, because she thinks she knows what I'm going to say, and she always thinks I'm wrong!"

"That's not true, Scooter. She just...grew up in a different kind of home, that's all. She didn't have two mothers who were always around, always available, and--admittedly--always in your way." Scootaloo grunted, but didn't say anything. "Her parents didn't really involve themselves much in her life, and she hated it. She wants better for you, and this is her trying to do that. She's not very good at it, I know, but you're not exactly making it easy for her."

Scootaloo scowled. "I don't want to make it easy for her to interfere with my life. I don't want her to involve herself at all."

Vinyl sighed heavily. "First of all, I know that's not true. You may not want her to involve herself as much as she wants to, but I think you'd be pretty upset if she cut herself out of your life completely." This was true, Scootaloo knew, but she refused to say so, instead holding her scowl in place until Vinyl continued. "Anyway, there's a middle ground here somewhere, and maybe you two can work on finding it later. Right now, though, I just wanted to ask if you were alright, and if your disagreement with Sweetie Belle--whatever it was--was something to be concerned about."

Scootaloo shook her head. "It was just Sweetie Belle being obnoxious and nosy...like she sometimes is."

Vinyl nodded. "The only reason Octavia asked in the first place is because Sweetie was apparently pretty upset when she came into the study. She wouldn't say why, but apparently whatever you said kind of got to her. You might want to apologize tomorrow." She held up a hoof to stem Scootaloo's protest. "If you want to, obviously. Only if you want to."

Scootaloo settled back to her haunches, considering this. Vinyl waited patiently for her to speak, and when she did, her voice was low and her words carefully measured. "Mom...can I...get your advice on something?"

Vinyl's eyes glittered as she grinned broadly, clearly ecstatic at this request. "Of course, Scooter! You know you can ask me anything you want."

When did you realize you liked mares? How did you figure it out? Am I gay? I like stallions, though, I think. What if I don't want to be--

Scootaloo shoved the fleeting--and categorically ridiculous--thoughts aside and asked, "Is it wrong to make a mistake on purpose so someone else can look good instead?"

Vinyl blinked, nonplussed. "Well...I guess that depends." She tapped her chin thoughtfully with a hoof. "Did this 'someone else' know you were doing it beforehoof?"

Scootaloo shook her head. "No...I don't think she would've been too keen on the idea if I'd said anything."

"I see...and why would you think that?"

"Well," Scootaloo shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "She's kind of got self-esteem problems. She gets overshadowed by her...friend a lot, and she's not very good at...well, anything, really."

"Scootaloo!"

"What?" Scootaloo cried indignantly. "It's not an insult if it's true! And I'm just trying to, you know, explain the situation, that's all."

Vinyl sighed and nodded. "I suppose...but you really shouldn't talk about your friends that way."

"My...friends?" Scootaloo said, puzzled. "Who was...oh! No, this isn't one of my friends!" she said, suddenly catching on.

"Oh, it's not?" Vinyl asked. "Then what was Sweetie Belle...?"

Scootaloo sighed and said, "Alright, it was Silver Spoon." She looked down at her hooves and started tapping them together anxiously. "We were doing stuff with unit circles in class today, and Miss Cheerilee asked her to go up and draw one. Of course, Silver Spoon's like...miles behind everypony else in math, so she had no idea what she was doing, and when she got as far as she could, Miss Cheerilee called me up to finish for her. The thing is, earlier I heard her talking to Diamond Tiara, and DT was being rude to me and my friends--like always--and for once, Spoon actually argued with her. I thought that was pretty cool, so when I was walking up to finish the drawing, I thought I'd, you know, make a pretty obvious mistake, cuz I figured she'd be the first to notice, right?"

Scootaloo looked up from her hooves for a moment and met her mother's eyes. The unicorn's face was open and understanding, but otherwise inscrutable. "I just wanted to give her a chance to show off a little, you know? I mean...she doesn't ever get A's on her tests, she never does very well on her homework, she hates doing problems on the board, and I don't think she gets a whole lot of help from anypony else."

"I see," Vinyl said. "You know, I thought you and Silver Spoon didn't get along very well? Isn't she one of the ponies you said were always bullying you and the other Crusaders?"

Scootaloo fidgeted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well...she hasn't been doing that much lately, honestly. Ever since we got matched up for this project and actually worked on it together that night, she's been...well, not cool, exactly, but hardly the bucking witch we're used to."

Vinyl chose to ignore the obscenity and said, "That's nice. Any idea why?"

Scootaloo shrugged. "I dunno. Not a lot's changed, except we spent that whole evening working on catching her up in math."

"That was nice of you."

"I guess," Scootaloo said nonchalantly. "Honestly, she needed a lot of help, and if we're going to do the project we're planning on, she's going to need to be on the same page as the rest of the class at least, even if she's not really going to be able to catch up to me."

This statement was more matter-of-fact than it sounded, and Vinyl didn't react to it. Scootaloo and her parents had learned long ago that she simply had a knack and a passion for mathematics and physics, and it was generally assumed that she would outpace her classmates as long as she was still in the basic level of schooling. Cheerilee had been the first to notice, and it was with her permission that Scootaloo spent most math classes reading other, much more advanced texts, only occasionally pausing to prove to Miss Cheerilee that she was, in fact, keeping pace with the class as well.

"Even so," Vinyl said, "it was very mature of you to recognize that and put aside your differences long enough to give her a hoof. I'm very impressed." The unicorn smiled warmly at her daughter, who blushed lightly and rubbed the back of her neck with a hoof. "That said," she continued, "while I'm sure your intentions were good, I don't think making a mistake intentionally just so she could fix it for you was the best idea. I mean, how would you feel if you knew somepony had done that to you?"

Scootaloo thought for a minute, casting back through her memories for a similar experience. It was not difficult. "I hated it. I remember when I was still a runaway and ponies would always try to help me out, even when I didn't ask them to. I hated that sad look they'd get on their face when they saw how much trouble I was in, and the stupid, smug little smile they'd get when they managed to 'help' me out, like they'd just saved my life, without even asking if I wanted their help." She sighed heavily. "I knew they were taking pity on me, and it sucked." She glanced up at her mother. "You think I was doing the same thing to Silver Spoon?"

Vinyl shrugged. "Only you know whether you were pitying her or not. I do know, however, that if she caught on to what you were doing, she probably thought you were."

Scootaloo nodded. "She caught on. She stopped me after class and got really spurred. I, uh..." She winced. "I was...kind of mean to her when she did that."

There was a short pause, and Vinyl asked quietly, "Mean how?"

Scootaloo looked down at her hooves again, her ears flat on top of her head. "Well...I denied it, which was a lie, obviously, and then I called her...I called her a narcissist."

The pause was longer this time, and icy. "You called her a narcissist," Vinyl said, her voice quiet and deadpan, "because she confronted you about something you did." Scootaloo nodded, a sick feeling sliding down into her stomach. Silence filled the room for an unbearably long time, and when she finally spoke again, Vinyl's voice had morphed from quiet and flat to scathing and cold. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that, Scootaloo. I guess I was wrong earlier; you still have a lot of maturing to do after all." She sighed and got up, slowly plodding towards the door. "I think you know what you have to do now, though, don't you?" She glanced over her shoulder, but Scootaloo was still looking down at her hooves, unable to meet her mother's eyes. She nodded. "Good," the unicorn said, her voice still cold. "See that you do it...tonight."

"Yes, mom," Scootaloo said quietly as her mother stomped out of the room, closing the door behind her with a touch more force than was necessary.