• Published 8th Nov 2012
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AppleDash Group Collab - DbzOrDie



Mini-fics written by AppleDash members.

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A Shotgun Approach to Marital Issues - Seether00

Author's Note:

This story isn't based on a prompt. It was written by Seether and we decided to bend the rules a little at his request.

It was a harsh winterā€™s evening when Applejack returned home. As usual, Rainbow Dash was lounging on the sofa. She jumped when her wife slapped a newspaper down onto the coffee table.

ā€œHow could you do this to me, Dash?ā€

As Rainbow glanced down at the the sleazy tabloid, her mind went blank, all of her pre-planned excuses fleeing into the ether. With the photographic evidence of her indiscretions sitting right there on the table she knew she was caught.

She floundered for a few seconds before breaking down and confessing everything. What followed was a tawdry tale of long lonely nights on tour with the Wonderbolts. Nights where one of Applejackā€™s old hats with her wifeā€™s earthy scent of sweat and apples became her only comfort. How sheā€™d smell it every night before going to bed.

The peer pressure sheā€™d felt. How her teammates partied after every show. How booze flowed like untamed river, unceasing until everypony was stupid drunk. How no ā€˜Bolt ever went to bed with same warm body twice. How she finally gave in to temptation. She hadnā€™t gone seeking it. The mare had been young, willing, and in love with what Rainbow Dash represented. It was easy for somepony of Dashā€™s ego to be seduced while intoxicated and vulnerable.

ā€œI didnā€™t even remember her name the next morning. It didnā€™t mean anything,ā€ she begged. ā€œYou gotta believe me.ā€

Applejack remained unmoved. ā€œI want to believe you, Dash. I really do, but answer me this. Was it the only time?ā€

It took Dash another few seconds as she fidgeted, but finally, she choked out a response. ā€œNo,ā€ she admitted, ears burning with shame. ā€œI knew it was wrong, but everyone else was doing it, and I just went along anyway.ā€

Both remained quiet, neither said or did anything for a minute.

After letting out a resigned sigh, Applejack took off her scarf and hung it in the front closet. She removed her Stetson and hung it alongside the others, and reached into the back of the closet, lifting out an old double-barreled shotgun and a box of shells.

ā€œWhoa! Hold on, AJ! Put that down!ā€ Rainbow shouted. ā€œI love you, babe!ā€

ā€œYou remember our wedding vows, dontcha?ā€ Applejack asked her sternly. ā€œā€˜Cause I do. Remember what I promised would happen if you were ever unfaithful?ā€

ā€œApplejack cā€™mon!ā€ Rainbow Dash begged. Sheā€™d never been more frightened in her life. When theyā€™d been dating, both Big Macintosh and Granny Smith had insinuated what the Apples did with adulterers. Sheā€™d honestly thought they were just joking around with her at the time. ā€œYou-youā€™re not really gonna shoot me, right? Right?!ā€ She sniffled but then felt a tender touch as a hoof warmly cupped her cheek. Dash looked up into her wifeā€™s soft, and she hoped, forgiving eyes.

ā€œā€œAwwā€¦Sugarcube, no.ā€ Her wife shook her head. ā€œNah, I canā€™t shoot you. Not when youā€™re looking at me with those big sorrowful eyes.ā€

As tears burst forth, Dash felt a great weight leave her stomach.

ā€œYou gotta sleep sometime.ā€

The weight returned, now three times as heavy. She watched as Applejack sat down in the easy-chair. Her favorite chair. It was a custom recliner, dyed all the colors of Rainbowā€™s mane which Dash had bought as a surprise on their first anniversary. The shotgun lay across her lap, and she waited.

Rainbow Dash didnā€™t sleep for four days. She knew Applejack wasnā€™t lying. All day, she sat in her chair, the shotgun never out of reach. ā€œI love you, Applejack,ā€ Dash would tell her. It became a plea, every hour on the dot like clockwork.

ā€œAfter youā€™re dead, Rainbow,ā€ Applejack said to her on the third night. ā€œI reckon Iā€™ll bury you out in the orchard. Maybe plant a sapling right on the spot to remember you by.ā€

Each night Rainbow sat on the sofa across from her. Not once did she try to take the shotgun. She knew it wouldnā€™t save her. She couldā€™ve flown away, just jump through a window and woosh, sheā€™d be free and clear, the snow wouldnā€™t hinder a flyer of her caliber. But, in the end, she couldnā€™t leave Applejack. Not like this. It just wasnā€™t in her.

Sitting in her chair for so long gave Applejack a lot of time to think. She could see the fear in her wifeā€™s eyes and it hurt her deeply. But what choice did she have? Sheā€™d given her word on their wedding day, and an Apple never went back her word.

The morning of the fifth day, Applejack returned the shotgun to the closet. Taking her love into her forelegs she told her in no uncertain terms what was going to happen. ā€œTomorrow, youā€™re gonna write that captain of yours and take a leave of absence. Then, for the next two months at least, weā€™re gonna fix this.ā€ Dash mumbled a tearful ā€œyesā€ into her wifeā€™s chest. Applejack didnā€™t mind the wetness matting her fur. ā€œItā€™s gonna take me a while to trust you again, sugarcube, butā€¦ā€ She held her tighter. ā€œBut weā€™ll make itā€¦ I want us to make it.ā€

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