It was round three of the battle against the latest Sapphire Shores ensemble. The songstress desired a green and red number for her coming Hearth’s Warming in Summer tour and it was up me to give her something fashionably festive. Doing so without making it a furnace proved quite the challenge. I was just considering having a talk with her over this ‘whole body’ nonsense she’d insisted on when I heard the doorbell chime.

“Coming!” Glad for a brief respite from the conflict, I put on my best smile and peppered the boutique with my favorite introduction. “Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where every garment is—oh.”

Not ‘oh’ as in “What are you doing here?”, or ‘oh’ as in “Why am I wasting my time with this?”, but ‘oh’ as in “I never saw this coming.” The one and only pony less likely than Rainbow Dash to desire my services had found her way into my boutique. Tiny, shuffling, carrying an overburdened saddlebag, Scootaloo had decided to grace my presence.

Putting my surprise aside, I relocated my charm. “Good morning, darling. What brings you here?”

Lovely eyes – grayish purple, went marvelously with her gamboge and cerise – met mine. “H-hey, Rarity. Um… I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Well, this was quite the surprise. By her shuffling, tense manner and the way she looked like she wanted to flee, I had the distinct impression she was actually there to see me. Which was preposterous, of course; I hardly knew the filly beyond her and the other two devils passing like a tornado every now and then through my shop.

Being the sister of a Cutie Mark Crusader wasn’t all that bad. At least it had gotten me to invest in shatter proof windows, shatter proof cabinets, shatter proof… well, everything, I suppose.

“No, you’re fine.” I smiled at her to disguise my confusion. “I do have a project, but it’s not due for a couple weeks yet.” And I was rather eager for a break, no matter how short. “Is there something I can do for you? Sweetie’s still in Manehattan with our parents, I’m afraid.”

The little ball of pony scraped at the floor – scratch proofed floor, another extra expense I was regularly glad to have taken. “Spike’s not here, is he?”

“No, he went with Starlight to Canterlot for the weekend.” I sat before her and gestured invitingly with a smirk. “Why so nervous? I promise not to swaddle you in a silk princess gown, unless you’re actually here for that.”

Scootaloo’s wings tensed against her sides, but slowly, carefully, she settled on her haunches. Unable to meet my eyes, she muttered what might have been words, but my ears failed to catch them out of the air.

“What was that?”

Her chest expanded for a mighty intake of air. Her brow furrowed as she leveled me what I imagined was her ‘serious business’ expression. “I’d like to go on a shopping spree.”

Surely I hadn’t heard that correctly. I leaned a smidge closer, studying her ever-so-determined face. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’d like to go on a shopping spree. I’ve been saving up for months and… well…” The grumpy face cracked, her eyes darting away as her ears drooped. “Y-you’re the expert on this kind of thing, right?”

“Expert?” I chuckled at the very idea. “Darling, if you want to buy things you just go buy things! A shopping spree is all about spontaneity. Whatever would you need me for? Besides, I’m sure Rainbow Dash would be more than happy to take you along to visit some… sports shops.” The effort required not to roll my eyes was heroic, if I do say so myself.

With a stomp – blessed be the discoverer of scratch proofing enchantments – Scootaloo shook her head. “Rainbow can’t know about this! I need Rarity things, the kind of things Rarity wants.”

This might have been flattering were it not so confounding. I tittered and brushed her mane with my hoof. “You’re going to need about a gallon of shampoo and a specialty spa treatment just to get started.” That should get her off this silly track.

“Alright, it’s a start. They open now?”

It was at precisely this moment that I felt my jaw touch the floor. Okay, perhaps that’s a little melodramatic, but permit a mare her pleasures. “Come again?”

Scootaloo’s wings buzzed as she met my stare with no less determination than before. “The spa. Is it open now? What kind of treatment should I get?”

This was far more serious than I’d anticipated. She was far more serious than I’d anticipated. I cast away my doubts and gave her the once over, scrutinizing every inch of her petite form. Her forelegs were resolute and stiff, but her right hind leg had this tick that gave it a slight bounce. Her wings kept flicking, only to go tight against her sides when she realized I was eyeing them. Her muzzle scrunched up as if this would somehow show just how focused she was on this goal. Her ears cowered flat against her skull with sporadic trembles.

All in all, it appeared she was preparing to go through a gauntlet, like Rainbow Dash before facing one of Applejack’s more unusual and embarrassing challenges.

At last, I met her gaze. “You lost a bet against Apple Bloom, didn’t you?”

After delivering an impressively flamboyant groan, Scootaloo stood and bucked at the air. “No! Apple Bloom doesn’t know I’m here. Rainbow doesn’t know I’m here! Nopony knows about this, and I wanna keep it that way. I need to be more generous and… and Rarity.”

I remained lost in the fog, but abruptly had a direction to point my keel. “What’s this about generosity?”

“Y’know, giving ponies things.” Scootaloo waved her hoof around my store. “Being all fancy, frou-frou, prim and proper and…” Her tongue lolled out of her mouth and she faked a gag. “Girly.”

The fog might have gotten a little thicker, but I pressed on. “Scootaloo, darling, you have me at a loss. For one, none of that has anything to do with generosity. Second, if you’re so against ‘girly’ things, why are you asking me to help you be those things?”

She blinked, slowly retracting her tongue – fortunate, seeing as she’d almost gotten saliva on my floor. Scratch proofing wouldn’t have done a thing about that. “What do you mean? Isn’t generosity about, like, looking rich and giving stuff to others?”

I let out a long-prepared groan, throwing a fetlock over my face and leaning back to full damsel-in-distress posture. If she was going to be dramatic, I might as well show her how it’s done. “Is that really what you think of me? That painful caricature of narcissistic duplicity? Oh, Scootaloo, how you wound me.”

The filly’s ears perked as she gaped at me. “Whoa. Okay, you win the drama queen crown.”

The pose was gone in an instant. I hit her with my best smirk and patted her adorable but unkempt head. “Yes, best leave such things to the masters.”

She scowled and rubbed her mane back, as if I might have actually ruined a preferred style hidden somewhere in that mess. “But this doesn’t change the goal. I need to be more generous.”

“And why exactly are you trying to be generous, hmm?” I marched for the kitchen, gesturing for her to follow. “Tea?”

“I don’t drink—” A cough. “I m-mean, sure, tea would be cool. Thanks.”

I set about gathering the necessities while Scootaloo deposited her saddlebags by the door and hopped onto the chair usually reserved for Sweetie. While waiting for the water to warm, I glanced back at my unusual guest. She had her forehooves on the table – scratch proof and shatter proof – and swiveled her head about, taking in every inch of the room. “Looking for something?”

She glanced at me for but a moment. “Just taking things in. Maybe I can convince Mom and Dad to let me repaint my room.”

“You never did answer my earlier question.”

“Hmm?”

The kettle filled and the tea brewing, I walked casually over and placed the set in the center of the table. “About generosity. Why the sudden fascination?”

Blossoming cheeks. Wide eyes. Wings erect. “N-no reason.”

Now the fog was clearing, and the romantic in me attempted to release a squeal that firm self-control refused to let out. There could be no stopping a smile from splitting my cheeks, though. “I see. Well, if you can’t tell me, I suppose I can’t help you.”

“What?” She stood up in her seat, rocking the table slightly. Did I mention the splash resistance enchantments on the dishes? “But you’ve gotta!”

“Use your words properly, darling.” I poured myself a cup. “Manners maketh mare.”

“What does that even mean?” Scootaloo sat back with a scowl. “Come on, Rarity. I need your help! Think of it as a favor.”

After pouring her a cup as well, I leaned back and looked to the ceiling. “Can’t be Sweetie. She and I don’t always see eye-to-eye on things. I don’t know what would possess you to think being more like me would do the trick.”

Out the corner of my eye, I watched as Scootaloo sank so half her face was below the table. “O-okay, you can stop now.”

“I wonder if your interests are more…” I smirked. “Draconic in nature?”

She whimpered, wings tensing once more. Her eyes darted about frantically, then settled upon the cup of tea in front of her. She snatched it, raised it to her lips—

“Scootaloo, don’t—!”

She yelped and dropped the cup, hooves leaping to her lips. “Hot!”

I caught the cup before its contents could spill into her lap – splash resistant, not proof. “Yes, dear, tea does need to cool first.” I levitated a towel to douse in cold water at the sink, not leaving my seat. This was a dance I was most familiar with. “Well, I think the ship has found its harbor.”

“What?” She winced and poofed out her red lower lip.

“Oh, nothing.” I dabbed her burn with the cold towel. “Just finishing a personal metaphor.”

“Right.” She took the towel from my magic to do her own dabbing. “Off to a great start, aren’t I?”

“Don’t fret. Everypony does it at least once.”

“Really?”

“Really.” I took a sip of my tea, fighting back the bubbling feeling in my chest. “Will you be alright?”

Wincing, Scootaloo glanced at the towel as if she expected to see blood. “Eh, I’ve had a lot worse.”

“Good.” The tips of my hooves tapped together. The rhythm sped up as I let the bubbles within loose. By the time they erupted as a wild giggle, I was outright clapping. “Now, let’s get to the juicy bits! Just how long have you had an eye on our little Spikey-Wikey?”

Out came the overlong groan. Scootaloo rolled her head back to stare at the ceiling. If her face got any redder she might have been declared Equestria’s second sun. “Must you?”

“Yes. I must. I absolutely must!” I pushed her chair so that she was squeezed between it and the table. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head as I flashed my most predatory grin. “You brought this upon yourself, little filly. Spill! I have ways of making you talk.”

“No way!” Scootaloo pushed and grappled with the table, but my magic held her fast. “If I wanted to talk about… about that, I’d be dead, ‘cause that’s the only way you’ll get anything outta me.”

“Do you want me to teach you about generosity or not?”

“I’ll figure it out on my own.” She gnawed at the chair – yes, scratch proofed. “Just buy a bunch of stuff and throw it at ponies, right? Shouldn’t be too hard.”

My magic disappeared with a ‘pop’. Scootaloo, chair and all, fell backwards from the force of her pushing. “Whoa!” The chair hit the floor. Scootaloo didn’t. She hung in the air by her tail, my aura carrying her towards me. She kicked wildly, wings abuzz. “Hey, lemme go!”

Then she saw my scowl. Instantly, her resistance ceased and her ears folded back. “Uh… I’m sorry?”

“And well you should be.” I took another sip of my tea, giving myself time to prepare my words. “You offend me, Scootaloo. Do you really think that something as core to my existence as generosity is nothing more than crass gift giving? Or doing favors for the sake of getting something in return? I asked you before, and I am asking again: why do you want to learn about generosity? Is it just so that Spike will like you?”

She bit her lip and avoided my narrowed eyes. With a heavy breath, I set her down on the floor and picked the fallen chair back up. That done, I put the tea set in the sink. “Come with me.”

She obeyed without complaint, head low and tail tucked. “Um… where are we going?”

I went straight for the supply closet. “I’m going to show you what generosity is.”

As expected, we found Ditzy behind the counter of the post office. On a Saturday. I always appreciate a hard worker, but Ditzy’s work ethic rivaled even Applejack’s. Not without reason, of course.

“Good morning, Rarity.” She waved with all the energy she usually displayed, complete with a cheerful smile. “Picking up or dropping off?”

“Good morning, Miss Doo. Dropping off.” I set the package, wrapped in bright blue and yellow paper, on the counter. Scootaloo watched from just behind me, muzzle scrunched in uncertainty.

“Okie dokie! Where to?” Ditzy rummaged beneath the counter, presumably for the necessary forms.

“Your place.”

A beat. Her blonde head slowly rose from beneath the counter. “My place?”

I nodded. “Indeed. It’s Dinky’s birthday in two days, is it not?”

She let out a gasp, one eye focusing on the package. “You got my little muffin a gift?”

“No, you got her a gift.” I gave her a conspiratorial wink. “At least as far as she knows.”

“B-b-but, I can’t—”

My hoof waggled before her eyes. “No buts. I shan’t hear of it.” I pushed the package closer to her side of the counter. “You’ve been working so hard, and I know how tough things can be for you.”

Ditzy bit her lip. Her gaze shifted from me to the present and back several times – truly a dizzying display when neither eye ever focused on the same thing. At last, she pulled the gift closer, cradling it in her hooves. “Th-thank you, Rarity. I… I didn’t think I’d be able to afford one this year. This is gonna make my muffin’s day.”

“And she deserves it,” I declared with confidence, for I truly believed it. “She’s such an angel.” I gave her a moment to carefully put the gift away. “Oh, did Miss Twang’s fiddle come in this week?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, it did!” Ditzy was up and smiling once more, as if the entire exchange hadn’t happened at all. “All fixed up and good as new. I was gonna deliver it Monday.”

“Monday? Oh, I think we can do better than that.” I levitated a few bits and set them on the counter. “How about we get it to her today? This morning, in fact. I’m sure this will cover it, hmm?”

Ditzy cocked her head at the coins. “More than cover it. You don’t have to pay, especially since you already covered the repairs.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, darling.” I turned away and made for the door, a very confused-looking Scootaloo trailing behind me. “Do be a dear and tell her that it’s today. She’ll get the idea.”

“Uh, okay. Thanks, Rarity!” Ditzy waved once more, her smile brighter than ever. Not something one would think possible with that mare, but there it was.

“You are very welcome. See you later, Miss Doo!”

The moment the door closed, Scootaloo spoke up. “Okay, I don’t get it. You gave her a gift, then asked her to make sure something happened. How is that different from giving something in exchange for getting something back later?”

I winked and ushered her forward. “We’ve only just begun. Come, our next stop is Sugarcube Corner.”

“Why? You hungry?”

I chuckled at her skeptical frown. “Watch and learn, little filly.”

It took four hours of constant hoofwork. Putting in the order with Pinkie, making a donation at Town Hall, helping Lyra with the renovation designs for her home, buying some apples from Big McIntosh, collecting some of the nurse uniforms from Redheart for minor repairs and a personal touch, and a few more odds and ends. Scootaloo followed along the entire time, the little trooper. I fear she was as bored as she was confused.

We arrived at the boutique shortly after lunch, my companion kind enough to carry the nurse uniforms in her wagon. As I levitated them inside, she followed with a scowl. She was decent enough to wipe her hooves at the front door without instruction.

“I just don’t understand,” she complained while I put the uniforms away for later. “We’ve been all over Ponyville doing favors, all of which had return favors attached.”

“Exactly.”

“But you said generosity had nothing to do with that.”

“And it doesn’t.” I turned to her with a grin. “The lesson isn’t over.”

Her pained groan was music to my ears. The double-facehoof might have been overdoing it a bit, but who am I to judge? “What is the lesson, and how much longer is it gonna take?”

I rolled my eyes – unladylike, to be sure, but I doubted Scootaloo would mind. “Come now. You’ve been most helpful and patient today with my work, and I Pinkie Pie Promise it will make sense in the end. Our part is, for the most part, over.”

Scootaloo sagged, her little wings drooping almost to the floor. “What a relief!” Her head shot up once more. “Waitaminute, you said this would get Spike to… to…”

Ah, there was Tomato Face again. She fumbled and stuttered over her words, apparently trying to find some way to turn her lapse in self-control into less of a minefield. I stalked closer, tail flicking, and caught hers in my magic before she could even consider escape. As soon as she noticed her circumstances, the pink in her cheeks paled.

“Now,” I whispered with my most delightfully menacing voice, “there is nothing left but to wait. And while we wait, you are going to model for me.”

Scootaloo swallowed, her Adam’s apple rocking down her neck. “I, uh, think R-Rainbow Dash needed me for... something. Yeah, something.” She squeaked as I pulled her closer, keeping her eyes locked with mine.

“There’s no escape, my little filly.” Her ears went flat against her skull. “I am going to make you an outfit, and while I do, you are going to tell me all about what makes you so interested in Spike.”

“Nope!” At last finding her resistance, she tried to fling herself away. My foreleg and magic easily thwarted her on-the-spot escape plan, of course. “I ain’t letting you turn me into a prissy pansy! Lemme go! If Rainbow Dash finds out—”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” With maximum pomp and primness, I turned from her. “I thought you’d want some couture that might catch Spike’s eye, but if you’re not all that serious about him then I guess you’re free to go.”

She froze, tail strained tight against my magical hold. A breath. Two.

The moan to beat all moans – yes, even my own – erupted from her lungs. Turning back to me, eyes hard as diamonds, she sat and crossed her arms with a pout. “Not a word to Sweetie or Apple Bloom, alright?”

“You have—”

“Or Rainbow Dash!”

“I—”

“Or Applejack, or Fluttershy, or Rainbow Dash.”

“You already said—"

“In fact, nopony at all!” She spread her forehooves wide in a denying gesture. “Nopony in Ponyville. In Canterlot. In Equestria!”

I waited patiently to see if she had anything else to add. When she only glared at me with those adorably puffed up cheeks, I crossed my heart and set a hoof over my eye. “Satisfied?”

Her response was a petulant “No.” A sigh later, she climbed to her hooves. “Let’s get this over with.”

Waiting for her to pass me by was a challenge, but I managed to hold back the grin. Barely.

Credit where it’s due: Scootaloo is much more effective a model than her idol ever was. Oh, she did her fair share of squirming and complaining, but on the whole I think she performed marvelously considering my low expectations. All I needed were her measurements, which were done in less than a minute, but I wanted her… pliable.

Hence the reason I had her in the one dress I owned with more pink on it than Pinkie Pie came au naturel. If her cute little cheeks got any more steamed she might have died from overheating, but she put up with it. And my questions.

“Are we done yet?” For those of you wondering, yes, Scootaloo is perfectly capable of whining like a Canterlot diva in the rain without an umbrella. She’ll probably hate me forever for telling you that. It’s her own fault; if she didn’t want me gossiping about such things, she shouldn’t have sworn me to secrecy regarding the juicy details of her crush on Spike.

Oh, so precious.

What? Of course I am free to tell this story. Pinkie Promises don’t hold water once the Opal is out of the shopping bag, darlings.

Where were we? Oh, yes. The end of the modeling run.

I patted her frazzled mane, only mildly regretting my lack of time to do anything about it. “You take the time to get out of that dress slowly and carefully. Then yes, we’re done.”

“Finally!” Scootaloo somehow managed haste and caution in equal measure, pulling the dress off yet somehow not over-wrinkling it or causing a rip. She has fine control over her body. Probably gets it from riding that scooter of hers all the time. I hung it aside, eyes going to the clock. With expert delaying tactics and more than a few endearingly embarrassing questions, I’d managed to take up much of the rest of the day. Which meant…

“Alright, Scootaloo, it’s time for the final part of today’s lesson.”

The filly collapsed with a tired smile. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

“Oh, but I think I do.” I trotted for the stairs, calling over my shoulder, “Come along. We’ve got a small walk ahead.”

With the afternoon sun shining brightly, we made our way across town towards Ponyville General Hospital. Scootaloo vented the day’s frustrations by riding her scooter around in a rather graceful display of tricks and stunts I’m sure would have made Rainbow proud. She never left my sight, though, for which I was grateful; the entire day would have been wasted if she’d have given up on me then.

Upon hearing the pleasantly rustic tune of a violin, I called Scootaloo close. Soon the music was joined by the quiet rumble of conversation and laughter. I lead my companion through the alley behind Bon Bon’s candy shop, from where we observed the hospital’s eastern entrance.

A party was in full swing. Small, limited, but growing. Fiddly Twang had her fiddle, good as new, and played alongside Miss Heartstrings to the delight of a great many children and adults in assorted states of ill health. Friends and relatives milled about a large tent, beneath which Pinkie Pie and Applejack were hard at work dishing out treat after delectable treat. Mayor Mare could be seen amongst the growing crowd, chatting with the hospital director. Both appeared monumentally pleased with themselves.

As the scene unfolded, I watched Scootaloo carefully out the corner of my eye. Her face was all scrunched up in that cute way foals have when they’re trying to puzzle something out. At last, she turned her attention to me. “Nopony ever said anything about a party. What’s going on?”

I waved to the crowd. “Go ahead and find out.”

She considered this suggestion, but I knew she’d be unable to resist. Sure enough, she left the alley to join the party. She lacked the usual enthusiasm a foal might have for free cupcakes and good music, which was good. It told me her mind was working things out.

I watched the scene for a while after she’d disappeared into the crowd. It was a satisfying thing, that party. Especially the smile of the coffee-brown filly in the wheelchair, surrounded by her friends and family. Eventually, I turned away to handle one more bit of business.

Scootaloo returned to the boutique close to sundown. She plodded into my workroom where I was engaged in round four of the Sapphire Shores conflict. The moment I saw her bowed head and serious eyes, I set aside my scissors and pins and took a seat on my couch. At a gesture, she joined me.

Neither of us said anything for a while. I elected to give her the time she needed. My patience was rewarded when she at last looked up at me. “Cracked Pecan’s going to Canterlot.”

I smiled and nodded. “Indeed she is.”

Seeing my recognition, Scootaloo’s frown only deepened. “She’s got a sickness in her legs. They’re gonna cure her there. She’s been waiting over a year for this.”

“A long time to wait, I’m sure.”

“That’s why they had the party.” She sank back into the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “A big donation went to her charity fund today. Ponyville General finally hit the amount needed to send her for treatment. Mayor Mare was there and everything.” When I said nothing, she turned her inquisitive eyes on me. “You made the last donation, didn’t you?”

I didn’t respond. She sat up and rubbed her chin. “Fiddly Twang and Lyra being able to play today, Pinkie Pie showing up out of nowhere with Applejack to cater, and I heard the last donation was big and anonymous.” Once more, her eyes were full of confusion. “Why anonymous? You didn’t even go to the party!”

I tittered and shook my head. “And how did it make you feel? You were with me the whole day. You helped on a lot of the projects that made that party possible.”

“It felt… kinda good, actually.” A warm smile lit up her face as she rubbed her chest. “Like I had a little oven right in here, y’know?”

“Oh, I know.” I rubbed my own chest, demonstrating my familiarity with the sensation. “And that is the reward of generosity.”

She leaned forward, ears swiveled fully in my direction and eyes wide. She was finally ready.

I continued calmly. “Generosity is an act of the heart. It’s about making the lives of others better for the sake of them being better. A truly generous spirit gives without ever expecting anything in return.” A wistful sigh left me as I pulled her into a gentle, one-legged hug. “I don’t know Cracked Pecan beyond the gossip of her aunt, Golden Harvest. She will never know what I did for her. She doesn’t need to. It’s good enough to me that she knows some ponies out there cared enough to help her. Perhaps someday, when her life has turned around and she’s in the right position, she will do the same for somepony else.

“And that, my dear Scootaloo, is all the reward I will ever need.”

My eyes met hers, and my smile coaxed one out of her in turn. “I don’t know that being generous is what it takes to catch Spike’s attention, because frankly I don’t know that is what keeps him coming back to my boutique. But if you truly wish to know about generosity? My door is always open.”

I stood, leaving her in a thoughtful state. I let her stew for a bit, biding my time by setting a few strategic arrangements of materials in preparation for the fifth engagement of Sapphire Shores. She said nothing while I worked, but neither did she leave. The whole time, her face remained clouded with thoughts, shifting from warm smiles to uncertain frowns. It was quite the familiar dance; she was tumbling through a concept that I’d spent my entire life studying.

At last, as the sunlight was dying in the windows, I turned my attention to her fully. “Would you like to stay for supper?”

She twitched, as if my words were electric, and looked up at me. She looked to the window and let out a gasp. “Oh, shoot, Mom and Dad will kill me for staying out so late! I gotta go.”

I stopped her with a hoof. “I spoke to your parents after we parted ways this afternoon. If you’d like to stay for the night and talk, I would welcome it.”

She stared up at me, ears folded and wings tucked tight around her body. She chewed her lip and glanced at the window.

Then came the warm smile I’d been hoping to see all day long.

“I think I’m cool with that.”

Author's Notes:

This has one fundamental flaw that I'm sure kills its chance of placing in the contest, but that's okay. New story alone makes this worth the time invested.

...I've still got a month. Maybe I'll do a second entry, assuming I can think of anything that doesn't have that fundamental flaw.

EDIT: Just saw It's Not The Mane Thing About You for the first time, and all I can say is: called it!