Cheerilee left the darkroom open after class on photography days as long as she had grading or other things to do in the schoolhouse. Apple Bloom took full advantage of the opportunity and used the time to print her more explicit and grotesque photos since she was often the only one in the room.

She watched mesmerized by yet another photo transforming in the developer. Then suddenly she heard the outer door of the darkroom open and shut. Then the inner door opened and shut. She turned around to see Rumble… alone and smiling at her in the reddened darkness.

"Hey," he greeted, setting his saddle bag on the table.

Apple Bloom smiled back. "Hey, Ah thought you left."

"I did. Forgot my negatives at home. Now I'm back." He approached and looked around her into the fixer tray to see a macro photo of several dead flies in a window sill. He screwed up his face. "What's that for?"

"The still life project," she replied.

"Not really life anymore, is it?" he laughed.

"It's like a… whatchacallit? Memento… mori. Ya always see dead flies in window sills but it's real interestin' when ya stop ta think about it. They always end up there because they were trapped and wanted ta leave. They just wanted ta be outside where they're s'poseda be and they can see it right there but they can't get it. They tried so hard an' they wanted it so bad that they even spent their final moments strugglin' ta escape. It's like… should we keep fightin' against inevitably or should we just enjoy bein' trapped while we're still here?"

Rumble absently fished out his packet of negatives. "Wow… It's actually really sad and terrifying when you put it that way. When did you get so…" He scratched his chin, unable to come up with an adequate word. "Poetic?" he finally settled on.

Apple Bloom smiled at that. She took the tongs in her mouth and retrieved the photo, tossing it in the rinse. Her and Rumble, she thought, they really understood each other. What did Scootaloo have that she didn't, besides an attitude and a pair of gimp wings? She just had the advantage of getting to him first, that's all. In a head to head matchup, he'd pick her over Scootaloo every time; she was sure of it. In fact, she didn't need a level playing field or him to be single. If she wanted to, she could have him whenever… Have him… Whenever. She ruminated on those words. They sounded so lovely, looked so enticing, dangling over that cliff.

Rumble focused his enlarger and prepped it with paper and soon he was a one pony photo factory just like Apple Bloom.

After a flurry of fresh photos, Apple Bloom looked at the clock and realized she needed to go do chores soon. Holding up her photo on one hoof, she went up to Rumble and stood close enough that their sides touched. Her muscles trembled on contact, or was it his muscles?

"Oh, yer doin' that one again?" she laughed, recognizing the projection of Scootaloo hurling the rock into the flooded quarry. "Ah like that one. Will ya make me a copy?"

"Yeah," he nodded, switching off the machine. "If you make one for me."

"Which one?"

"How about the one of me taking a picture of you taking a picture of me taking a picture of you?" He glanced at the timer and started his exposure.

"We should both trade that one," posed Apple Bloom. "What else?"

Rumble thought. "I want my album cover," he smirked.

"That's right," laughed Apple Bloom.

"But make it huge so I can make an LP cover mockup," he added, switching off the enlarger again.

"But eight by tens are the biggest we can do."

"You're right," he replied in put-on disappointment. "Normal size is fine then." He dropped the photo into the developer and the two watched dreamily as the dynamic shot of Scootaloo materialized on the paper.

"The rock bein' frozen in the air is the best part." Apple Bloom murmured.

He fished the picture out of the developer solution with his wing tip and held it up for them to see before placing the print in the tray of fixer solution. Apple Bloom dropped hers in the developer next to it.

The two turned away from the chemicals and locked eyes for a moment, then several more moments. Unable to tear away from one another, they were caught careening toward a terrible fruition, a fire they didn't start but neither did they snuff out. Suddenly Apple Bloom could hear no voice of reason inside her head. All she knew was that she liked Rumble and wanted to be like those anonymous ponies on the park bench in the photo. Without a second thought, she stepped forward and pushed her lips into his. The sensual contact between them felt explosive and electric at the same time. The trespass was like ice cream for her ego and the noticeable hesitation in Rumble before he pulled away was the cherry on top.

"What are you doing?" he gasped, taking a step back.

"We're kissin'" she answered matter-of-factly.

He looked at the door and then back at her, swallowing anxiously. "We- we can't do that."

His body language told her what his words tried to hide: he was thinking it over. She just needed to sell it. "You can do whatever ya want," she argued. "No one's gonna know, if that's all yer worried about."

"Uh..." Rumble bit his lip apprehensively and his eyes dropped to the floor in delicious indecision.
Having him cornered, Apple Bloom closed her eyes and leaned in again, determined to get her tongue in his mouth this time but he put a hoof up to keep her from advancing.

He stared back at her in wide-eyed conviction. "I… I have to go." He stumbled to the tray and scooped up his fixed photo without rinsing it. Then he gathered the rest of his prints and negatives and hurried out the door, casting one last glance back at her.

The door clicking shut snapped Apple Bloom out of her mood. She stood frozen, trying to parse through what she'd just done and why. The dampness from his lips lingered on hers. It didn't make any sense. Yes, she genuinely wanted to kiss him; she knew it was wrong, or at least something that needed to stay secret, but for some reason, she didn't care at all. No, it wasn't that she didn't care that it was wrong, wrong was the point. She liked Rumble but more than anything she wanted to intrude on Scootaloo and him in every sense of the word, to go somewhere sacred she wasn't allowed, corrupt and defile it and make it hers.

Her lips still tingled with the embers of that stolen kiss. It was the most exhilarating sensation she'd felt yet but in its wake she was left scared and confused about what happened next. "Maybe Ah shouldna done that," she breathed, staring into the picture of the tackle box still floating in the developer.

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