Some activities should only be undertaken by those who can make a mature and responsible decision based on the context of the situation. Unfortunately, the term 'adult' is no longer relevant to this ability.
Ah context, where for art thou, context? If it be thy observer’s will to emerge, thou surely jest.
“Um... Applejack?” Spike squeaked to the woman straddling him.
Maintaining eye contact became one of the most laborious challenges of the young man’s life. She smiled and cooed, “Yes, sugarcube?”
“Y-You know this is probably illegal, right?” he tried to ask with more confidence in his voice. Inevitably, it came out as another whimper. He found he could do little else while in his predicament; squeak unintelligibly and sweat. The product of his borderline fear beaded on the sides of his face and rolled to the quilt below. Resisting the urge to wipe his brow, he kept his arms by his sides. Even if he made an attempt to move the appendages, they were pinned down by her thighs.
Applejack relaxed her muscular arms, placed either side of the spiky green haired adolescent, letting her face fall to his. She grinned seductively, pressing her forehead against his own. “Ah think you’re old enough, sugar,” she whispered, before giving the end of his nose a playful lick.
He shuddered as the farmer trailed a finger down the centre of his chest, his back sinking lower into the bed. “W... Why are you doing this?”
Spike received a more or less straightforward answer in the form of a tender kiss on the lips. The twenty three year old held it for long moments before withdrawing, the golden locks from her fringe tickling his brow. “I just wanted to show ya how much I love ya for helpin’ around the farm while Big Mac’s been sick.”
“I-I-It’s really nothing, AJ.” It really was nothing. He had only been able to perform organisational tasks, his physical ability lacking. “I’m... I’m glad I could help.” Spike had hoped to shift the subject to something a little less... sexual, but clearly failed.
She placed her palms on his shoulders and leaned in close. “It ain’t nothin’, Spike. Ya gave up yer time assistin’ Twilight, the most important thing in the world to you, to come an’ help me. Ah’m truly touched that Ah’m that important to you.”
The assistant laughed nervously, looking away. “Hehe, well Twilight didn’t really need any help so...” His train of thought tilted dangerously on it’s tracks as his eyes, desperate not to look at Applejack’s, wandered to the vee of her loosely fitting, abdomen exposing top. It quickly became apparent she was not wearing a bra. “Uh... I was... you needed it...” He fought a losing battle to keep his eyes averted, away from the exposed flesh. “...more.”
His stops and starts were not lost on Applejack. She could see his fleeting glances downward, and relished the look on his face as she reached up with a single hand and began unbuttoning her shirt. Spike could feel the reverberations of his pounding heart in his cranium. The defences keeping her top hugged around her bust were reduced to two easily undone buttons. The mattress squeaked quietly as she shifted her weight from his groin to his thighs in order to take his arms out from under her. Lifting them by the wrists, she returned to her previous position, mounted atop the almost limp figure whom watched on as if he were reliving a dream. She sat up vertically, in complete control of his arms.
Breathing heavily, he let his hands be guided to grasp either side of her hips. They trailed down from her belt and across her denim short shorts. She pressed his hands tightly against her thighs and eased them into a slow, circular rubbing motion. Her smooth, tanned skin felt incredible under his touch. Moving upwards, she lead him around her slender waist. His thumb flicked briefly over her belly button, his will to resist ebbing away under her voluptuous curves. Applejack continued to smile as she teased him, trailing his fingers up her sides.
It took longer than Spike would have liked to admit to register that he was holding her breasts in his hands. Her nipples tickled his palms through her thin shirt. Her arms had returned to either side of his shoulders. The wheels in his head struggled to turn, the hamster responsible for powering them apparently having suffered a fatal heart attack. Applejack spared no time for Mr Squeaky’s funeral, however, as she had only one thing on her mind; the cute young man below her.
He was visibly shaking, the situation on the verge of overwhelming him. Seeing this, the farmer placed one of her hands over his and rubbed it softly with her thumb. “It’s alright, sugar,” she cooed, “We c’n take this nice an’ slow.” She kissed him again, this time letting her tongue slip into his mouth. His eyes grew wide as the hot, wet muscle danced around his own. Applejack smiled into the kiss, feeling Spike’s fingers contract just slightly around her breasts, barely realising he was doing it.
The feeling of her lips against his, coupled with the softness of her bosoms cupped in his grasp, brought a stiffness to the area between his legs. It seemed to grow slowly but rhythmically, in synchrony with the beating of his heart. He began to worry she would feel it, given that she was essentially sitting on it. His hands snaked around to the sides of her chest in an attempt to coax her closer. She replied with gusto, opting to lie completely on top of him. The hands that had previously held her above the young form caressed his green hair. Spike might have felt a little claustrophobic, were he not deeply enjoying being crushed by the older woman. Slowly, Applejack broke the kiss.
The world turned upside down. She effortlessly rolled over on the bed, reversing their positions. He blinked at his new found superiority. Spike straddled her lower waist, not quite tall enough to go any lower. Heat rose to his face as she pushed an open hand from his stomach up to his chest forcefully enough to wrinkle and lift the fabric at the bottom of his purple shirt, revealing the supple skin of his navel. He let out a ragged breath as, with one hand, she massaged the muscles from the base of his neck to his left shoulder. Her short fingernails dragged slowly down his arm until they crested the back of his hand. Holding it with two gentle grips, she kissed his knuckle, savoring his slight quivers.
Satisfied that the fist was thoroughly coated in her affection, she laid it on her chest and gestured towards the remaining two buttons on her top. “Would ya’ mind?” she hinted. Spike audibly gulped at the proposition. She never took her eyes off him as he fumbled around. What should have been been easy became a complex operation, the buttons refusing to come undone. He reeled back when the farmer took a side of the shirt in each hand and pulled it open forcefully. The buttons gave way immediately, skittering messily to the floor.
Spike took stock of his position. Sitting on a beautiful woman’s firm stomach while she gazed up at him lustfully and bare chested. His eyes fixated on her well rounded breasts. They were one of her greatest features. Aside from her face, they were certainly the most prominent. They had all the right curves, perky and irresistible. A pressure on the back of his head pushed him closer. Applejack moaned as the adolescent instinctively took her areola into his mouth, closing his eyes and suckling it cautiously. She ran her fingers through the hair on the back of his head with one hand, rubbing his shoulder blade with the other.
Working his arms around her chest and under her shirt, Spike pulled himself deeper into her bosom. The sweat from her work in the fields had left her teat tasting surprisingly salty. He circled the nipple with his tongue slowly, loving the bumpy texture. He looked up with a start, making a soft slurping sound. There was no doubt in his mind that she could feel his stiffness through his trousers.
“You’re so cute.” She smiled, the triangles of freckles on either cheek climbing to just below her eyes. She pushed him up into a sitting position, then over onto his back, head resting just short of the foot of the bed. Crawling over to him, she touched her nose to the end of his. Spike went cross eyed trying to look at it. “Close your eyes,” Applejack instructed simply.
“Wha-?”
Silencing the curious youth with a swift pair of fingers, she little more than whispered, “Trust me,” as if that explained everything.
He nodded meekly and complied. Her weight left him suddenly. Not daring to disobey the woman several times stronger than him, he rested his head back and listened for any hints of her actions. The was a high pitched zipping noise, which concerned him a little. He could hear the soft slide of flesh on the quilt, and something fluttering through the air right before something hit his forehead.
“What the?” He peeled the denim shorts from his face. Holding it outstretched with one arm, Spike sat up. “What is this?” Had his eyelids stretched any wider, his eyes would likely have rolled out of his head.
Applejack lay completely naked save for her signature brown stetson hat. Propped up by several silken pillows, her arms reached out either side of her as if pinned down by some invisible beast. Her legs were crossed teasingly. Starting at her chest, she seductively rubbed her hands down the sides of her body. They met at her groin, cupping just below the small tuft of blond hair.
Shifting uncomfortably, Spike tried to hide his arousal. “Is... is this really happening? Are you sure you really want to...?” His voice trailed off.
She pat the area next to her. “Why don’t ya come on up here and find out yerself?”
Spike made his way over nervously, on his knees. His jaw reflexively clenched at the small view of her lower lips. They peeked and taunted him. No, what was he thinking? It was nothing more than flesh, albeit extremely alluring. It alone could not beckon him closer. His primeval instincts were the real culprit, commanding him to reproduce. Twilight had always told him they were nothing but primitive and hormonal, to be ignored. He had always imagined this was how it felt. Like some savage animal, the reproductive portion of his brain snarled at him to simply fornicate with the woman before him and be done with it.
But he hadn’t expected it to be conflicted. At the same time, an equally powerful voice wanted nothing more than to cuddle up to her and kiss her again, despite how unmanly those thoughts were.
His boots seemed to sink deeper into the mud with every aching stride. The squelching sound by itself was unpleasant, much less the feeling of the the slush lapping at the the cuffs of his jeans every time he planted his foot. Spike didn’t stop to try and find a drier path. He pushed on and kept running blindly through the roaring black abyss. He raised his forearm across his face defensively. It did little to soften the onslaught of pelting raindrops that had already soaked most of his clothes. In a way, he was glad. The layer of water on his cheeks masked his own tears, as few as they were. The bag slung over his shoulder, full of the only possessions he could call his own, shook and rattled out of synchrony with the rest of his body.
He did not know where he was going, nor did he care. His movements became erratic as his tired body fought exhaustion. His steps became clumsy and misplaced. What happened next was inevitable.
The mud-caked tread of his boot lost all traction against the finely saturated ground. His leg slid effortlessly out from under him, sending him sprawling. The fall left most of his side covered in grey ooze, from his knee, all the way up to his elbow and chin. He pushed a trembling hand into the mud, sinking in so far he could only see it’s outline. Stifling a frustrated scream, he tried to lift himself back to his feet, only to find he had even less grip on the earth than he had before. His head shook with pent up anger and sorrow. Spike lifted a fist into the air and threw it into the ground with all the strength he could muster, as if the mud itself was responsible for his rage.
Sullenly looking up, he glanced to his surroundings. He could barely make out the silhouettes of the rustling trees on either side of him. It felt like he’d been running down this path for hours. With any potential landmarks rendered invisible by the darkness, the youth could not even tell which way he had come. No longer concerned about the state of his now brown and purple jacket, he dragged himself to a nearby fencepost. The peeling white paint made for ample purchase, despite being slick with rainwater.
A bolt of electricity forked across the sky and for a split second, illuminated the area around the boy. Using the terribly generic fence as support, Spike trudged further down the ill maintained road. Up ahead, it was bisected by a smaller road, only wide enough for a single cart to comfortably traverse. It looked vaguely familiar. Almost like...
Like a heavenly beacon, a speck of orange light perforated the plutonian night through the hallway of apple trees. Spike stepped towards it and squinted. He dared not to question how he could be thrown such a lifeline by fate. Instead, he took to a sprint once again, desperate for shelter.
The source of the light loomed in the darkness. The corridor of trees soon gave way to large clearings and open fields. Spike approached the lonely, double storey house with trepidation. The floorboards creaked as he stepped onto the porch. The stained glass embedded into the door glowed softly as he drew close. He raised his hand to knock, but hesitated. Would she even help him? His fist made the correct movements, but couldn’t seem to connect with the timber. After a few more attempts, he gave in to the mental block. Just as the crestfallen boy turned away, he heard a click. The doors hinges sighed as a a torrent of pale gold light washed over the area around him.
“Spike? Is that you?” Applejack’s voice floated out above the din.
He froze, looking down at his shadow. A second silhouette came into view, far lower than his own.
“What are you doing all the way out here?”
Spike dropped to his knees, slouching. He murmured something the tenant of the house couldn’t quite understand.
“What was that?” she asked, taking a cautious, bare-foot step toward the figure of the boy.
His voice cracked and chocked on the words. “I said... I... can’t tell you, Applejack. I just... I just...”
Spike felt something grasp his limply dangling hand. It’s fingers interlocked with his own, wonderfully warm and dry. Blinking, he eased his head toward the presence crouched beside him. “Here’s the deal. Ah c’n give ya’ a nice warm bath and a place to stay the night, but ya have ta tell me what in tarnation is goin' on, promise?"
He nodded slowly.
Wordlessly, she stood, still holding his hand. With a gentle tug she gestured for him to rise and follow. He complied, standing unsteadily. Removing his mud covered shoes, he entered the house.
As much as he felt he shouldn’t, Spike could not help but notice the woman’s lack of pants as she lead him through the pale green washed hall and into the bathroom. Her choice of briefs, although uncustomary, came as no real surprise. It was highly likely she had just thrown on the shirt that she now wore to appear decent while she answered the door.
Just like the rest of the farmhouse, the bathroom blushed with porcelain modesty. He could feel the coolness of the tiles through his thin socks.
* * *
Spike tugged at the over sized collar of his shirt, thankfully borrowed from a sleeping Big Macintosh. He didn’t wear it as much as it swallowed him. The hem reached almost halfway down his thighs, almost obscuring the loosely fitting bright red short shorts, also courtesy of Applejack’s brother.
The fireplace crackled softly, the flames throwing light across the floor and reasonably distanced rug. It was enough to both warm the room from the cold of the storm outside and eliminate the need for further lighting. Applejack looked up at him from her seat on the couch and smiled warmly. Next to her rested a large blanket, no doubt intended to be his for the night.
“Ah’d let ya bunk with me,” said Applejack, much to his surprise, “But Ah’m told Ah snore.”
“Th... That’s okay. I’ll be fine out here.” Spike sat down between her and the blanket, attempting to avoid eye contact by opting to stare blindly at the fire. He wanted to delay what was coming next for as long as possible. He knew she was looking at him before she even spoke.
“Now... Why are ya out here?”
The boy turned to the woman sullenly, looking down at her stomach. “I... ran away.”
“What?” She turned her body towards him and leaned closer. “Why would you do that?”
Spike slumped back in the couch, closing his eyes. “Because Twilight doesn’t need me any more. I’ve been replaced by that stupid owl.” He clasped his hand across his eyes. “She... She doesn’t... love me any more.”
Applejack gently wrapped her arm around the youth’s shoulders and pulled him close to her breast. He barely reacted at all. “Sugar, Twilight loves ya and always will. Ya can’t go runnin’ away just because Twilight isn't paying as much attention to ya."
Sniffling, the boy leaned away slightly. "It's not just Twilight. It's like in two days, he gets more appreciation from everyone than I get in two years. You all just like Owloysius more than me..."
"How could ya think that? We all love ya, Twilight, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, even Rainbow Dash, though she'll never admit it."
Spike let himself be pulled back closer to the woman. “You too?” he whispered, looking up at her.
Her smile softened to a small curl on one end of her mouth. She rubbed the back of his head consolingly. “O’ course, especially me.”
Without another thought, Spike swivelled around and crushed himself into Applejack’s chest. In turn, She reciprocated the embrace as best she could. Closing her eyes, she rested her chin on the freshly washed, forest green hair atop his head. The boy squeezed her tighter in a vain attempt to draw her closer. He sighed through his nose, his cheek against her breast. “Thanks Applejack.”
They held the position for what seemed like an eternity until the youth’s breathing slowed to a gentle rise and fall of his chest. At Applejack’s guidance, he slid down across her stomach and to her bare thighs.
He had always felt a sense of security around the buff apple farmer. Even when she had first grabbed him by the shoulders, thrust him onto the bed and mounted him, he had not felt endangered. A little confused, perhaps.They had always been very close, but to go from close friends to intimate lovers seemed like a rather big step. Their friends, over time, had noticed them getting closer, but thought it nothing more than a brother-sister relationship. The former had wondered why, despite the bond they shared, he just could not see her as a sibling. Now he was beginning to understand.
Applejack rose to meet him, reaching down and lifting up his shirt. She anticipated the look of hesitance, being his first time. Pulling him down to be lying next to her, breast to breast, she removed the purple fabric completely from his form. The apple farmer felt down the sides of his chest, over his pale and scrawny frame. His hair prickled as she rubbed the small of his back.
He grunted throatily when she gripped him through the crotch of his pants. She moved her hand back and forth, rewarded with deep, lustful moans reverberating into her chest. Spike’s eyes shot open when she started sliding down his body. “Applejack, I… I don’t know…”
“Oh?” she interrupted, her face inches from his groin. “But Ah do know.” Applejack unbuckled his belt before he had time to react and threw it across the room. Spike silently cursed his loose fitting jeans. They were worked off with relative ease. He was left trying to cover up the awkward lump underneath his underwear, his face as red as the apples he had spent the last week helping cart around the farm.
The bushel of apples impacted the ground far harder than he would have liked. Some of the fruit spilled out and hit the dirt floor of the barn. Spike winced. They would more than likely bruise. Placing both hands behind his head, he leaned against the barn door and took a moment to catch his breath. Gradually, his heart rate came back to a normal pace. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a forearm and sighed. Neither Applejack or Big Macintosh had any trouble carting multiple bushels around. He could barely lift one. It may have been petty, but his pride took a little kick at that.
Brought out of his musings by a the crow of a rooster somewhere outside, he turned his attention to the apples dropped to the ground. He picked one of the galas up and eyed it critically. Other than a light layer of dust, it seemed undamaged. Examining the others strewn about, most were in a similar state. After a gentle dust off, he returned them to the bushel.
Dirt crunched softly under heavy footfalls. Spike could see her shadow in the orange wash cast through the doorway. The humanoid umbrage turned towards him, leaning against the unopened door casually.
Without so much as a glance, Spike addressed the figure. “I’m almost done, Applejack. Just a few more left.”
He heard a chuckle. “Ah took care ‘a the rest, Spike.”
He slouched, sighing.
The voice laughed again.
Applejack smiled from under her Stetson. She straddled his knees, settling her breasts on the hands clasped protectively over the boy’s crotch. Her nipples pressed into the backs of his hands, coaxing them to move, but they held firm. They wouldn’t move without a little… distraction. Taking Spike completely by surprise, she reached out and placed her hat on his head. She rarely ever took her hat off, much less gave it to someone else. His face twisted in confusion and brought up his hands to finger it, not quite sure if it was really there.
Gotcha!
Spike’s admittedly small manhood popped out of the protection of his underwear. Applejack looked up to his shocked face as she clasped her hand around his most sensitive organ, fitting easily. She raised an eyebrow, smirking in victory. The boy looked away in shame. He blinked and tried to swallow the lump that formed in his throat. “I... I… I…”
The woman let her eyes go half lidded and lowered her head.
His head threw back into a waiting pillow. The adolescent’s face contorted as if he had just taken a generous swig of concentrated lemon juice. His arms flung out wildly, digging at the quilt as he battled to cope with the intense pleasure brought on by Applejack’s tongue. She lapped at it hungrily as if it were some sort of popsicle; an appropriate analogy, he sure felt like he was melting.
“App… Jack…” He stammered, his voice extremely strained. He forced himself to look down at her as she circled his tip with her tongue.
She let go of his manhood, but continued to rub his upper thighs and waist with her open palms. “Yeah, sugar?” She smiled.
Here went everything. Spike’s lungs almost refused to operate as he choked out, “I… I just wanted to tell you that I… really, really, really like you.”
Instead of answering him, the blonde haired woman took his entire length into her mouth, which in all truth, wasn’t very hard. The boy shuddered and moaned in ecstasy, not able to resist gyrating his hips in time with the bobbing of her head. Her tongue dragged over his sensitive underside. The gentle caress of her lips made him shiver with excitement. Just as the previously unknown pleasure was building up in his loins, Applejack released him from her maw.
Spike tried to catch his breath as the woman made her way back up to his side and kissed him on the cheek, pulling him into a gentle yet dominant embrace. “How was that?” she asked, kissing him again.
“Uuuuuugh~” he groaned like a zombie, his eyes too far into the back of his head to formulate a coherent sentence.
Applejack laughed at the speechless youth. Reaching down, she began stroking his length once more. He quivered. Making eye contact, she asked in a playful tone, “Ya wanna go all the way?”
With his eyes closed tightly, Spike clenched his teeth and shook his head. “No.” He felt the hat being taken from his head and tossed aside. He could almost hear her deflate. She sat up, knees almost to her chest, and eased her weight into the short wall of pillows behind her. Spike remained stock still, the guilt of the situation catching up with him. “Sorry,” he sighed.
The wait for her to say something… anything in response was agonising. “Ah’m the one who should be sorry, Spike,” she suddenly cooed, gripping his shoulder. “Ah did pile all this on ya pretty suddenly.” She laughed a little. “Lookin’ back on it now, Ah was expectin’ too much of ya when Ah brought ya up here. Ah understand. This is movin’ too fast. We don’t have ta keep goin’.”
“It’s not that.” The stark naked teen mirrored the equally bare woman’s posture. His eyes stared blindly, directly ahead.
Applejack scooted closer and regarded the youth. “What is it then?”
Spike’s gaze dropped lower, his disappointment in himself rising. “I’m… not good enough. Look at me!” He gestured to his meek frame. “I’m puny, nerdy, insecure, weak and… and small.” He turned away as he listed his personal faults.
“And Ah wouldn’t change any o’ those for the world. Ah love ya just the way you are.”
Her response took him completely off guard. His demeanour brightened. “Re… Really?” he asked hopefully. An unexpected draft of icy air made him shiver violently, the breeze almost painful on his bare skin. Applejack must have noticed.
She pulled down the covers on the bed and gestured for him to get in. “Ah suppose it’s gettin’ a li’l chilly. Why don’t ya get cosy while Ah take care’a that window?”
Slipping under the blankets, Spike could not shake the foreign feeling of being naked in bed. He sure never slept without clothes with his surrogate sister sleeping in the same room. Speaking of… “What about Twilight?”
The window squealed as it was pulled shut. His eyes fixated on her perfect figure. Her lean, muscular build from her daily farm work practically glowed in the soft moonlight streaming through the portal. She turned to him. “Ah… told Twilight ya might be stayin’ the night. Like Ah said, Ah was gettin’ a mite overexcited.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked down at her lap. “Ah’m sorry.”
“Applejack?”
She turned towards him, her face partially obscured in the fading light from the single lamp in the room. Spike shifted himself as close as he could.
“Did you really mean what you said before?” he asked cautiously.
She took the hint. “O’ course,” she chimed, stroking the side of his face.
“I… really like you too.” Applejack accepted that, knowing she would not likely get the heartfelt “I love you” from the proud teen. “So, does this mean… We’re..?” He struggled to find the right words. They could never really be-
“A couple?” She finished for him. His face flushed red and almost appeared to vibrate as he nodded. “Ah don’t know,” she said puckishly, “Would ya like ta be?”
“Uh... yea.” He reached out to her with a hesitant hand. Searching her face for some sort of approval, he hovered his hand over her thigh. Without pause, she placed her hand over his and guided the appendage to its target. The feeling of her flesh gave him goosebumps. How could just touching her feel so good? “Could we... kiss again?” he asked after some delay.
Spike moved over to accommodate the new body as she slipped into bed next to him, lying on her side. She brought her face close to his and spoke softly, “Ya don’t even have ta ask,” before bringing her mouth to his own. She brought a hand to the side of his neck, closing her eyes in order to better focus on the sensation of the kiss. Her neck swiveled, allowing her tongue better access.
Their naked bodies connected almost by reflex. Working an arm under him, Applejack placed the palm of her hand in the centre of his back. Dragging down from his head, her other arm reached diagonally around his lower back, just above his buttocks. With the larger woman’s arms wrapped possessively around him, Spike’s own searched for a purchase amid the constricting passion. They eventually found their place, somewhat unoriginally, grasping at her sides.
Begrudgingly, their faces separated, their need for oxygen outweighing their desire for further intimacy. Opening his eyes for the first time since the kiss was broken, Spike gazed into Applejack’s own bright green orbs.
Applejack relaxed her vice-like grip, but still held the boy close, arms around his chest and under his arms. Spike rubbed her back in the same manner that she had always used to relax him. His hand moved in slow circles across her shoulder blade. Her muscles seemed to loosen quickly and it wasn’t long before he could move a little more freely.
Not giving himself the time to lose the motivation, Spike slid up her body and kissed her again, which the older woman escalated quickly. She rolled onto her back, pulling the boy’s upper body on top of her. His hand unintentionally fell to the side of her breast in the sudden motion, his thumb over the nipple. He threw it away from her chest out of fear of taking it too far. It shocked him when Applejack forced his hand back to her erogenous zone, manipulating it to squeeze softly. He could have best described the feeling as having his hand trapped between a rock and a firm marshmallow.
The stiffness returned to the adolescent, accompanied by a new felling, an insatiable hunger to fulfill both his and Applejack’s desire for each other. He wanted her to have his body.
He broke the kiss wetly.His eyes searched the room for something he knew wouldn’t be there. “Do you still wanna go... all the way?”
Her face became serious. “Are ya sure?”
“I think so.”
“No, Spike.” Applejack brought their faces level. “Ya need ta be sure of this. Ah don’t want ya ta ever regret it.”
He looked to her eyes and felt them searching his psyche for any signs of untruths. “I’m... sure, Applejack. I promise to never regret it.” Her face remained blank for a while longer, before cracking into a slight smile.
She spread her legs invitingly beneath the covers.
Spike tensed. He lifted himself up, positioning himself correctly for what they were about to engage in. His manhood brushed against her thigh and he shuddered, the contact of intimate flesh making apparent just how far they were about to go. His stare remained on her face even while placing a hand on either side of her hips. She pulled up the blankets with a free hand so that they obstructed their almost connecting groins. He could feel the heat radiating from her nethers like a roaring fireplace.
“Ready?” She smiled. Spike couldn’t recall a time when Applejack had let herself become so... vulnerable. She was both literally and figuratively, wide open, opening her heart as she opened her love. What got him was that she was ready and more than willing to expose everything she had, just for him. He was worth that much to her? Did she... really love him?
He pushed forward with new found determination from the incredible amount of trust Applejack had placed in him.
She moaned.
Spike gasped from the new sensation flowing through him. Her love clenched around his manhood in a hot embrace. His breath quickened and he bent down over her, his head only reaching her sizable breasts. Her legs wrapped around his comparatively tiny waist, trying to pull him further inside her. Gently, he began moving himself in and out. It was pleasurable beyond what he had ever imagined, their physical contact. He leaned further forward, repositioning his arms to either side of her upper navel. Applejack attempted to meet him, sitting up.
Spike couldn’t reach her, simply too short. The woman rolled her hips upward, allowing their faces just a little closer. His jaw hung slightly ajar, panting into the thrusts. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head and concentrated, dropping down. His body writhed on hers. He could hear her breathing more shallowly, her hot breath tickling the hair on his scalp.
He became hypersensitive, like a lucid dream. Even through the rapture of sex, he could feel every contour of her body, every twitch of a muscle, every stroke of her hand down his side, every squeeze of her hips. Every small feeling became its own experience. It was beyond incredible, a level of closeness he had never known before.
She was so soft on the inside... The pleasure built up quickly.
The pressure in his loins was almost unbearable. He groaned loudly. Spike looked up, brought out of reverie by the thumb and forefinger grasping his chin. Applejack had lowered her head back into the pillow behind her. She looked at him, grunting. Meeting his gaze, she smiled between her looks of determination.
His mechanical humping lost rhythm as the pleasure overwhelmed him. Applejack pulled his head between her breasts as he released himself into her. He hugged her tightly as his hips continued to spasm. Every muscle in his lover’s body tensed solidly, clenching her teeth as she grunted in time with his rapidly whithering thrusts.
All too soon, it was over. They were both breathing heavily, drained from the physical activity. Spike hadn’t noticed how much both of them had been perspiring throughout the trial. They were practically dripping with sweat... as well as other bodily fluids. He tried to catch his breath amidst the afterglow. Applejack shifted her legs, guiding his manhood out of her.
“I... I’m sorry I...” Spike sighed.
Before he could complete his sentence, the older woman pulled him further up her chest and his lower body off of her, rolling his limp figure over so that he could use her bosom as a pillow. Grabbing his head forcefully, she kissed his temple. “Thank ya, Spike. For everythin’.”
She could see the youth drifting out of consciousness as he managed, “Love you... Applejack.”
No...
Big Mac’s sap green eye twitched reflexively. Backing up, he looked again into his little sister’s room. There it was again. He scratched his head. It wasn’t that she was naked; that wasn’t unusual. It wasn’t that she had slept in, though that was very uncharacteristic. It wasn’t even how sticky she looked. What got him was the fact that she was spooning the equally bare local librarian’s assistant.
He rubbed his eyes, but the image didn’t change.
Right.
He backed out of the room, trying not to wake them. He shook his head, muttering, “Too much cough syrup. Yup, that’s gotta be it.”
After much deliberation, I have decided to have a crack at furthering the story line of “Consent,” since so many of you have started tracking it.
He woke to the feeling of her fingers running through his hair.
Spike stirred, opening one eye, only to see a blurred pallet of colours. His foetal position beneath the covers tightened, the barrier of sleep collapsing around him. For the briefest of moments, he wondered if the magical events of the previous night were nothing more than a fabrication of his subconscious mind. That was, until he heard Applejack say softly, “It’s time ta get up, Spike. Ah need ta get ta work, and if ya don’t get back ta the library soon, Twilight’s gonna start frettin’.”
He groaned groggily, reaching to touch his face. His hand limply grasped his forehead. “Five more minutes,” he grumbled, pulling the blanket up further over his shoulder.
Spike felt her weight come to rest on the side of the bed. “Come on, rise and shine,” she intoned, pulling at the sheets.
Keeping the blankets clenched tightly in his fists, he resisted. “I never get to sleep in.” She bent over him, positioning her face above and behind his head.
“You’re not startin’ today,” she smirked, poking out her tongue and licking the back of his ear. The boy yelped in a very unmanly tone.
“Gah!” He clasped a hand over the side of his head, blocking her from further access. “Fine.” Spike conceded and sat up. He resisted the urge to frown at the fully dressed figure of Applejack. He felt a little uncomfortable, still being naked beneath the bedsheets.
“Your clothes are on the blanket box,” she instructed, gesturing toward the corner of the room. Standing up, she moved to her dresser and took out her hairbrush. The process of maintaining her visage was cursory at best. She must have spent a hefty fifteen seconds on it in total. Not that it bothered Spike in the slightest. Her beauty came naturally, like his apparent aptitude with the piano.
He looked to where Applejack had left his clothes, at the almost incalculable distance from the bed to the small oak box. Covering himself, he hastened to fly out of bed and get his pants back on, at the very least. The blond haired woman rolled her eyes, smiling despite the obvious logical flaw in being so eager to cover up for someone he only recently... made love to.
Sentimental thoughts aside, there had been a question on her mind since the they had expressed their love. The boy’s inexperience with intimate moments surprised even her. Waiting until he had fully dressed, she gently inquired into the matter.
“Spike,” she said, moving closer, “Ah want ta ask ya somethin’, but Ah want you to know that Ah won’t think any different of ya no matter what the answer is.”
He looked almost hesitant, rubbing his left forearm submissively. “Uh... Okay, what is it?”
“Last night... Was Ah your first kiss?”
A long silence ensued as Spike delayed his answer. When he finally spoke, he did so slowly, as if one misplaced word could damage their still not fully established relationship. He almost looked guilty. “There was one time with Rarity, but that was on the cheek... You’re... You’re the first girl I’ve ever really kissed… like that.” He turned sullenly, thumbing the collar of his jacket, the only item of clothing that hadn’t been forcefully removed from his body, the only reason being that he had taken it off willingly before she’d mounted him.
The woman didn’t seem to take any notice of his answer, walking over to him casually. Giving him a soft peck on the forehead, Applejack slid her arms around his shoulders from behind. She eased them both into a gentle swivel from left to right. “Ah’m glad.”
Taking an audible inward breath, she released him from the embrace and warmly ushered him to the door of the bedroom. Reaching for the door knob, she hesitated. Biting her lip, she tapped it twice sharply. Spike looked to her confusedly.
“One more thing.”
She looked apprehensive as the boy replied, “Yeah?”
“We should probably… keep all this,” Applejack stuttered, gesturing between them, “to ourselves.”
His mind flickered with possible responses to the strange request. Realizing none of them made any sense, it settled for a puzzled and slightly crestfallen, “Okay.”
“Spike…” She bent down to his eye level. “You’re young and Ah’ve got nearly nine years on you. Even ignoring that we… slept together,” she said, throwing a glance to the bed, “c’n you imagine how other people would react? It probably looks like Ah’m... robbin’ the cradle.”
The apple farmer gave the indignant look on his face time to dissipate. “Ah know it’s not a nice thought, but we can’t even be sure how the other girls would take it, you and me together.”
Taking his hand, she stooped to her knees so that she appeared shorter. “Ah’m sure we wouldn’t be alone, but Ah don’t want ta risk any sort’a conflict. Do ya understand?”
“… I understand.”
“It’s just for now. Besides, Ah’ll make it up to ya when we’re alone~!” she hinted, brushing a hand across the buckle of his belt. Her mischievous smile made his heart rate increase. She allowed him only a few seconds to gather himself from her flustering innuendo before opening the door as originally intended.
“Come on, now,” Applejack drilled, forcing him out of the room with a strong athletic butt slap, “We gotta get movin’. Did ya want ta stay for breakfast?”
Recovering from his reflexive twitch, he smiled warily. “No thanks. I think I’ll go straight to the library.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
One short, hastily suggested shower later, Spike was out the door.
Even with the chill of mid winter covering the fields of Sweet Apple Acres in with a thick layer of snow, the stolen goodbye kiss back at the farm house left Spike feeling warm. His lips still tingled from the intim-
He shook his head vigorously, ridding himself of such sentimental, mushy thoughts.
The sound of shifting snow to the side of the path roused his attention. A large, toffee brown border collie pawed at the white slush. There was the possibility that it could be trying to find a buried bone, but it seemed more likely that the work dog was just wandering aimlessly. It sniffed around the small hole it had dug, before moving on to another random location it had decided was of some importance. There, it began digging again.
“Winona!” he called, snatching the bitch’s attention away from the ground. “What are you doing all the way out here?” She appeared to eye him suspiciously, before turning and trotting off, head held resentfully.
Spike watched Winona walk off with confusion, squinting as if his eyesight had somehow failed him. This was a first. His face became slightly sour. “Fine, be that way. Don’t you like me now that I’m... with... Applejack...” Frowning, he continued toward Ponyville.
The notion, even now, made him want to pinch himself, just to be certain. He even scanned the skies for any pink clouds as he walked, lest the god of chaos be behind it all. Nothing but white. Somehow, it still seemed more likely to be the work of Discord than of any natural force.
I love you.
The words were heavy. Not just because of the meaningful tone she used, but because she was Applejack, the element of honesty. A blind man could see through any attempt she made at exaggeration, much less a lie. She meant it, but why hide the relationship? Her concerns were over their age difference, yet the other girls had seemed receptive enough to his fantasies involving Rarity, who he believed be a little older. Why would this be any different?
Ah.
It should have been apparent from the start, a most important detail. This was real. His infatuation with Rarity had appeared to lead nowhere, just ‘puppy love.’ This was an intimate relationship. Hell, they’d had sex. How would it look for a grown woman to have done such a thing with him? Taboo would be an understatement.
Spike started to get a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as his home faded into his vision out of the early morning fog. Obviously, he had to keep quiet. Knocking on the door, he did just that.
Completely contrary to what he was expecting, Twilight answered the door brightly. He expected her paranoid side to at least want to know what her assistant was doing all night at one of her friend’s homes, but the librarian seemed content to leave the questions unasked in favor of scanning a list of chores for him to do. It should not have been very long. To his relief, she had kept the library in relative order, no large piles of books for him to spend the next few hours putting back in their places. Perhaps some light dusting would be in order. He could see the thin film of particles that coated the mahogany shelves.
“So what did Applejack need you for?” she asked without warning, her deep lilac shaded eyes still flicking across the page. Spike cringed at the list’s sheer length.
“Not anything big, just a bit of lifting and managerial stuff,” he laughed nervously, only partly lying. “You know, apples and all.”
“I hope you didn’t push yourself too hard.”
“Oh, It was pretty tiring, but very rewarding in the... ahem, end.” Judging by her very generic response, Twilight wasn’t paying much attention to his subtle innuendo.
“Well, I hope you’re up for a walk to the Carousel Boutique,” she remarked, whisking back a few stray strands of her dark violet hair from her forehead. “A few books Rarity borrowed are now overdue. She’s been swamped with work lately, so I’d say she just forgot about them.” Quickly slipping Spike the short list of literature, she turned to her study addled desk. “Don’t take too long. There’s a lot more for you to do once you get back.”
He yawned, but tried to ensure it was covered by his loud footsteps and swift movement toward the door; it had been a late night, and the high from excitement at the prospect of a long term relationship would only last so long. To his dismay, Twilight noticed immediately.
As if reading his thoughts, she quipped, “Late night?” Spike paused just a few paces from the door, rotating his head to the side in a lame attempt to look at the woman behind him. She had swivelled around on her chair to face him, resting her forearm on the back.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that. I’ll just go to bed a little earlier tonight.”
“What time did you get to sleep?”
He recalled the glances at the wall clock, rubbing his ear with his thumb and forefinger. He turned around to face her. “I think it was almost ten.” If Twilight disapproved of the time, she didn’t show it. She nodded with exceeding finality.
“Hey, where did you actually sleep? I didn’t think they had a guest room.” Spike’s mind scrambled for a believable answer. A simple question, yet the answer could arouse suspicion if not worded correctly.
“I slept with Applejack.”
Perfectly innocent statement right there.
Twilight’s face twisted with a mixture confusion and worry. She opened her mouth to speak, but the boy was intelligent enough to cut her off before she made any correct assumptions.
“In her room, that is, not in the same bed. They had a spare mattress,” he lied.
The look on the librarian’s face was certainly one of disbelief. “I see,” she muttered, turning back to her desk.
“Is something wrong?” Spike tried to sound surprised by her reaction.
Keeping her eyes fixed on the various pieces of parchment before her, she divulged, “No, no. I guess I'm just a little surprised that you’d develop a crush on Applejack,of all people. Whatever happened to Rarity?”
He noticed Twilight’s grin of amusement. She was only teasing him, but he could always neglect to correct her and introduce this new idea to his adoptive sister. Rubbing his left arm furtively, he stammered, “Yeah... Rarity kinda ‘friend’ zoned me a while ago. And who said this was a crush? I just think she’s... pretty.” It may have been stretching the truth to its limit, but that didn’t prevent him from blushing lightly.
Now it was Twilight’s turn to play the confused fool, left behind in the trail of the conversation. She turned around and furrowed her brow at him, half expecting a continuation. He decided it best to leave her hanging. She did not question him further, in any case.
Standing at the bottom of the heart engraved stairs that led to his and Twilight’s personal quarters, Spike called into the distance, “Peewee! Down here!”
In a flicker of light and flame, a young phoenix swept into the room. Shining embers popped in his amber wake as his normally yellow feathers continuously combusted. As much as the little guy tried, there was no way he could generate the spectacular light show of the fully grown phoenixes. He did, however, manage to startle a lightly slumbering Owloysius by squawking loudly as he flew by in another lap of the library. The owl scowled disdainfully, before turning away in a huff and attempting to recapture the sleep that Peewee had so rudely taken from him.
The flames from the phoenix’s feathers died, finishing their final ostentatious circle of the room. He landed on Spike’s shoulder with a final flurry of his wings. Twilight questioned the wisdom of taking a magical fire bird outside in the winter.
“Aw, come on, Twilight. It’ll only be for a short trip. Besides, he’s been cooped up for a while here.” Spike pleaded.
“Fine,” the librarian conceded, unwilling to engage in a debate, “Just keep him away from the snow.”
“Will do!” said Spike, opening the front door and heading out.
Back soon.
The sign hung on the door of the Boutique was another example of how just a couple of words, used in the right context, could have so much meaning. On any other store door, it wouldn’t have been conspicuous, just a case of a temporary interruption in store operations caused by a personal matter, but this was Rarity. Short of Applejack going missing, a parasprite infestation or an imperfection induced mental breakdown, she would always give her customers at least two days warning that the store would be closed.
Something big must have happened in order to force her to leave her business unattended. In all likelihood, the fashionista in question would not be there, but just on the off chance, Spike knocked. “Hello? It’s me, Spike. Is anyone in there?” He looked to the bird perched on his shoulder, then back to the unmoving door.
For a while, it seemed that the building was well and truly empty. The teen simply stared at the frilly door, cautiously hopeful. His patience paid off, as the door quietly unlocked from the inside. Opened with speed, it gave way to not the assistant’s person of interest, but her little sister, Sweetie Belle. Her face looked a little begrudging, but brightened upon seeing him.
“Hi Spike,” she smiled, “Are you here to see Rarity?”
“Yeah, is she here?”
“No, sorry,” Sweetie Belle sighed, “She went into town to get some supplies. I don’t know when she’ll be back. She’s been really panicky lately.”
“Twilight said she’s been busy.”
Sweetie let the door swing open wider. “You don’t know the half of it. I haven’t seen her this frantic since the whole Gala dresses thing.” She idly toyed with the fake rose adorned on her hairband. “So what do you need, anyway? I might be able to help you.”
Spike produced the slip of paper Twilight had given him from the pocket of his jacket. “Just a couple of overdue library books,” he said. The girl opened the door all the way, beckoning him to enter. He wiped his shoes on the strategically placed doormat before entering. The door shut behind him with a solid click.
“They’re probably in her room. I’ll help you look for them,” she said, leading Spike to her big sister’s bedroom. Their combined footsteps pierced the eerily silent atmosphere of the building. To the boy’s relief, the usually energetic Peewee was content to stay on his shoulder, his energy spent from the fireball permeated flight across town.
Spike had seen Rarity’s bedroom plenty of times before, but this particular instance was somehow different. Whether it was the absence of the woman herself or not, he did not know. It was almost as if the room itself wasn’t as full of wonder as it had been the last few times he had been present.
Giving a trained instruction to his pet phoenix, Spike tapped the corner of a bare table twice with his index and middle finger. Peewee obeyed and jumped to the indicated position. The girl seemed impressed by the display of obedience.
“So what are we looking for?” asked Sweetie, taking a cursory glance around the room.
Spike looked again to his note. “Uh... Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What is it?”
The paper crumpled softly in his grasp as he droned, “Pride and Prejudice and something called Passion.”
Sweetie smiled sweetly. “Sounds like Rarity’s been reading romance novels.” Spike made an exaggerated gagging sound in response. Her smile very quickly changed to a teasing smirk. “Don’t you like romance, Spike?” she asked.
The boy muttered something about manliness, handlebar moustaches and flapjacks as he took a few steps around the bedroom. He absently brushed off the conversation in favour of completing the task he was there to do, which soon turned out to be far more difficult than he had expected. While the room was organised to a very high standard, there wasn’t exactly a label marking her reading material.
“Have you ever had a girlfriend, Spike?” asked the girl in the modest white dress as she began her own search.
“No... I suppose I haven’t,” he lied.
“Well, do you like anyone?”
Spike opened and closed another drawer on Rarity’s desk, dodging the question with, “It’d be pretty hard to have the friends I do without liking any of them.”
Sweetie’s eyes narrowed. “You know what I mean,” she criticised, “Do you like like anyone? Like, I heard you had a crush on Rainbow Dash.”
“What!?”
“I thought it was pretty strange, but then again, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you stare at her butt more than a couple of times.”
Spike shook his head. “N-n-no I don’t!” Sure, he’d given her posterior a few longing sideways glances, but to be fair, this was before Applejack, and pretty much all the men in the area did it.
The entranced girl went on obviously. “I think she actually saw you do it that one time at the beach, when she was wearing a bikini, but she kinda pulled it up so it was tighter and winked at you.” She saw the boy’s confused expression and tried to clarify. “You remember, then she did that sneaky bra ‘adjusting’ trick. I didn’t know people could blush that much.”
He groaned for the second time that day. “How did you even see that?”
“Rarity pointed it out to me at the time. She found it pretty funny,” said Sweetie, clasping her hands together and bringing them up to her face with a dreamy expression, “Oh, Spike! Do you think she might like you back? You two would be so cute together. Have you thought about asking her out?”
His pace quickened. Where the hell did Rarity keep her library books? The only place he hadn’t checked was... her bedside table. Suppressing the urge to slap himself for overlooking such an obvious place, he approached the piece of furniture. “Are you kidding? She’s twenty. Besides, I never said I liked her in the first place,” he countered to her rather extreme idea.
Ignoring his last comment, Sweetie cooed only half earnestly, “But Spike, since when has age ever been a barrier for love?”
Not wanting to be a part of the conversation any longer, Spike threw the bedside table drawer open to find both of the items in question. Hallelujah. Now all he had to do was...
“Ooh!” Sweetie said dreamily, possibly taking more enjoyment out of flustering Spike than she should have, “If you got together, we could give the two of you one of those cute couple’s names!”
“Well, I gotta go.” he said quickly, “ThanksforallyourhelpdropthatthingaboutRainbowDash-bye!” In a blur of purple and green, he fled down the hall and out of the building, his forgotten Peewee following shortly after. She giggled.
Rainbow Dash sneezed, foiling her attempt to sneak up on a distracted Applejack. The farmer looked up at her from her apple stand in the middle of the cold marketplace. She laughed, turning back to finish the transaction with her customer.
Attempting to recover from the blatantly embarrassing interruption to her ‘coolness’, Rainbow leaned against the side of the stand casually. “So...” she intoned.
Applejack regarded her somewhat awkward looking friend from across the bench. “Ya’ here to buy apples or jus’ chit-chat?” she asked, mock incredulous.
“Oh, I just wanted to tell you me and Pinkie Pie will be going to that new club tonight,” Rainbow drawled, idly inspecting the backs of her fingers. “We were wondering if you’d like to come with.” Applejack bit her lip in thought as Rainbow went on. “It’s a new one called Club Envy.” The woman with the stetson hat continued to look hesitant.
“There’ll be cute guys~” Rainbow Dash encouraged, unknowing that Applejack could not be swayed with that particular offer.
In the end, she offered a weak smile and said, “Sure, what time?”
Rainbow clapped her hands together excitedly. “Great! Be there at seven sharp.”
Applejack’s smile deepened. “Ah’ll see ya there.”
Author’s Note:
Hopefully I’m not about to ruin the story by making this a multi-chapter. This is kinda “meh” in my opinion. Something about it just seemed rather off. Also, the pronouns are really p***ing me off. I’m pretty sure I messed up the characterization too. On the other hand, I am rarely ever completely satisfied with whatever I’ve written.
Despite the fact that the image prompt forced me to use Applejack in this story (not that I’m complaining), I do believe she’s the most appropriate partner for Spike when exploring this particular theme. Part of me thinks Rarity would be too... respectable? While she wouldn’t have anything against showing him platonic affection, being, say, 25 in this universe, I doubt she would want to take it any further than that. AJ, were she to be infatuated with Spike, I think would be more likely to engage in some sort of intimate relationship. Of course, I could be completely off track, but the only other option that would be original (there have been a few fics with these taboo relationships) is Rainbow Dash...
“Two o’clock, green eyes, red tee-shirt, light brown hair,” Pinkie whispered.
“Nice, but not diggin’ the moustache. I’m more into the tallie in the leather jacket at eleven... If only he lost the bowl cut.”
“What about blue hair over there?”
“I... don’t think he’d be interested, Pinkie.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. It could be the bright pink waistcoat or the checkered cravat, but I just get the feeling he’s not particularly interested in women. His friend looks alright, though.”
“Alright? He’s a hottie!”
“Heh, maybe if he was a few inches taller. He’s shorter than you.”
“Are you kidding? I love ‘em fun-sized! I like the specs too.”
“Kinda make him look nerdy...”
“No way! I think they make him look really smart.”
“Same thing.”
“Whatever... Ooh! Ooh! He’s got a tattoo on his arm, black with all those curvy lines and spikes.”
“Oh, okay, so maybe he isn’t too bad. Those are some nice arms.”
“Dibs!”
An exuberant Pinkie Pie practically jumped off her seat at the table, her puffy pink hair bobbing as she did so, and strided towards her selected target for the night before Rainbow Dash could react, leaving the colourfully haired woman slightly bemused.
“That was... sudden,” said Applejack from beside her.
“That’s Pinkie for you.” Regaining her smile, Rainbow Dash shifted closer to Applejack and gave the club another predatory sweep with her gaze. She wondered how Pinkie didn’t already know all of the men here, being the biggest socialite in town. Some of them wore football jerseys with “Cloudsdale Speedsters” embroidered in big, bold letters on the backs. Clearly here for the upcoming game against the Ponyville Titans. That would explain a lot. “See anything you like?”
“Hmm?” Applejack hummed through the glass between her lips, looking up. She brought the cider back down to rest on a coaster before asking, “Whaddya mean?”
Rainbow frowned, surprised that she hadn’t caught what she meant. “You know... Guys?” She waved her arm around, haphazardly gesturing to the male dominated space around them.
“Ah don’t know. I... haven’t really seen any that are... mah type.”
Her forehead creasing, Rainbow glanced around the club, filled with bachelors of every size, shape and stature. “Really? Not one?”
“Nope.”
“What about that guy?”
“No.”
“Him?”
“Nuh-uh.” Applejack stated finally.
“So you’re not attracted to any of the men in this room.”
“Not in th’ slightest,” She smiled, reaching for her glass again.
Rainbow regarded the woman as if she were from another planet. Surely, she had to find at least a couple of good looking dishes in this smorgasbord. Unless... Pinching the shoulder strap of her sky blue tank top thoughtfully, she asked, “What about girls?”
Luckily, Applejack couldn’t scold her immediately, as she had been in the middle of another sip. Her eyes went wide and she hurriedly swallowed the drink. Before she could utter a single syllable, Rainbow Dash interrupted her. “It’s okay if you’re not into guys! I mean, I didn’t know what I was into until I tried it with a girl.”
“Ah’m pretty sure Ah’m straight, Dash,” the other woman coughed.
“You sure? I’ve never seen you with a boyfriend.” She paused.
“Ah’ve had plenty’o-”
“If you want, I could set you up with a few single girls I know who would really-”
Applejack grunted loudly. “Men, Rainbow Dash,” she said sternly, “Ah’m attracted to men.”
“So what? Are you taken or something?”
“...”
Being the Element of Honesty wasn’t always beneficial. Applejack’s lips pursed and her eyes jerked around in their sockets. Forcing herself to look the woman in the eyes, she smiled innocently. “Well, Ah don’t think ‘Taken’ isn’t the best way to put it...”
The farmer was quick to regret her wording as Rainbow Dash smiled smugly. “Ooh, so you are seeing someone!”
“No! Ah, uh, well... Ah don’t have... uhh...” she stuttered, looking anywhere but the eyes of the girl sitting opposite her. She cleared her throat and stirred her drink with its unused straw, hoping that it would somehow detract from the conversation.
Dash shot her an excited smile. “Who is it and why haven’t I met this guy? Wait, do I know him?”
Applejack began to look sick, but Dash took no notice.
“He’s not your first boyfriend, is he?” she asked in ill suppressed shock.
Sighing, Applejack dropped any hope she had of keeping her brash friend in the dark as to her relationship status. “No, Ah’ve had a couple before.”
“First one you’ve slept with?” The blush that spread across the tanned woman’s face said it all. Rainbow Dash swiftly stood up from the fixed bench and extended her hand across the table. What Applejack finally recognised the gesture and took her hand in kind, she shook it vigorously, saying, “Congratulations, AJ. You have officially lost your virginity.”
“APPLEJACK FINALLY GOT LAID!?” Pinkie Pie’s shrill voice cut through the air like a samurai sword through a delicious cupcake. Applejack winced, tapping her ear with a finger just to ensure its functionality. Pinkie Pie placed both of her hands on the table and leaned in, intent on verifying this claim. “Really? Really? Who took it? Was he cute? Is it serious or just fun?”
Applejack bit her lip and hung her head in embarrassment. Oblivious, Rainbow jeered, “I was just about to ask her that, Pinkie. So AJ, who was it?”
“More importantly, do I know him?” Pinkie interjected.
Applejack didn’t look up, simply whispering, “You do, but Ah’d prefer not ta talk about it.”
“Aww, c’mon, we just want a few details,” Rainbow complained. “Was it good?”
Pinkie Pie squeaked in agreement, “Yeah, spill!”
Applejack hesitated to answer, simulating the consequences in her mind. She sighed, “It was... really good.” At least she could be truthful about that part. Pinkie narrowed her eyes just slightly. Grinning sheepishly back at her, Applejack suddenly saw her long awaited diversion. “So how’d ya’ go with that ‘hottie’?”
Pinkie Pie clapped her hands together enthusiastically and turned to Rainbow Dash, who looked askance to take the subject change. Only paying slight attention to what the socialite was saying, Applejack took another drink from her glass, visibly tense. It was going to be a long night.
The strain was intense, his left arm aching like nothing else. His wrist felt like it could buckle at any moment. Still, he reached out with his other arm, also pressured by the leverage. the book was almost at the gap in the bookshelf when Spike could reach no further with just his arm.
He shifted his feet, and used another gap in the bookshelf as a booster. the thin wood warped slightly under his added weight. He leaned back on his other foot, so as not to damage the shelf. Bobbing the books in his other hand, he pushed forward again. The simple idea to dismount the ladder, move it and climb back up never occurred to him.
Spike heard what sounded like a distant rumble and felt a slight tremor in the ground. He stretched his arm even more, but the bookshelf only seemed to get further away. The base of the ladder creaked. Wait a sec- “AH!”
The subsequent crash left Spike very dazed, pinned under the surprisingly heavy ladder.The books he’d been carefully balancing on his hand were now spread evenly across the library floor, possibly damaged. With a sigh, Spike staggered to his feet, rubbing his head sorely. It was too early for this.
A few wisps of grey smoke were already slinking out from under the door leading to the basement as Spike approached it. The air smelt strongly of ozone. He heard light coughing on the other side. Throwing the door open, he peered into the light fog. It seemed to be clearing. “Twilight? Are you okay?”
The woman’s figure could just barely be made out through the veil, wearing what appeared to be a lab coat, dust mask and goggles. Twilight partially lifted the mask with a rubber clad hand and coughed again, having neglected to apply it before the explosion. “I’m fine, Spike. Looks a lot worse than it is.”
“What happened?” the boy asked, waving his arm in front of his face.
“Oh... Just a little... overestimation,” said the scientist, lifting her goggles to reveal the contrast from her normal complexion to the sooty areas that had been exposed. “Didn’t know magically enriched unicornium could cause seismic shifts.”
Spike winced at the amount of dirt settling on only the most hard to reach places of the room. “Okay, do you want me to clean this up now, or-”
“No, I’ve got a few more tests to do, so it’ll only get dirty again. I won’t use so much carbon next time, though. That should make it a little less messy.” She looked up at Spike from her position behind a bench laid with an assortment of scientific instruments most physicists would be jealous of. She leaned over it, smiling. “You know, I’ll be at this for a few more hours, and there’s not really anything else I want you to do. Once you’ve finished upstairs, you can take the rest of the day off.”
“Really?” he asked, genuinely wondering.
Twilight nodded. “I know you’ve been working really hard lately, especially with Applejack and Rarity. Go on and enjoy yourself. I’m sure the Cutie Mark Crusaders or Pipsqueak will be free.”
The boy brightened instantaneously, grinning widely. “Wow, thanks Twi!” he said, “I’ll get right on those chores.” Spike couldn’t finish them fast enough.
“Hey, do you think you could do that thing with the… you know?” asked Pipsqueak, hands buried deep in his pockets as he walked next to Spike, who took the request apprehensively.
“Sorry Pip, Twilight doesn’t like me using it outside of a ‘controlled environment’,” he shrugged.
“Pleeeaaase~, my hands are freezing!” Pip held out his pale hands for emphasis. While very white in comparison to Spike’s hands, they weren’t far off his normal pigment.
“You’re from Trottingham,” Spike excused himself, “It’s colder over there. Aren’t you used to it?” Pip’s face screwed up in annoyance.
“Why do you think I bloody well moved here?” the shorter boy asked in exasperation. It left Spike at a loss for an answer. Pipsqueak had his thinking face on. That worried him. Trying to look as calm as possible, he kept one eye trained firmly on the Brit next to him.
Dropping his hands back to his sides, Pipsqueak started whistling nonchalantly. He stretched his out arms out at forty-five degree angles, his left moving behind Spike. On its way back, Pip’s hand hooked Spike’s wrist. His other hand soon clasped over it. He was telling the truth when he said his hands were freezing. They felt like ice. Spike tried to pull his hand away, but Pipsqueak had a very firm grip.
In an intentionally homosexual move, he pulled himself uncomfortably close to Spike, holding his hand between his two. “Mmm, you’re really warm,” he jibed, resting his head on Spike’s shoulder and closing his eyes. He squeezed his hand just firmly enough to push the taller boy over the edge.
“Fine,” Spike exclaimed, pulling away, “I’ll do it. Just stop that.”
Both young men stopped walking and turned to face each other. Pipsqueak watched intently as Spike held out his hand at arm’s length and readied his thumb and middle finger.
A click. A small flash. Nothing.
Looking slightly confused, Spike clicked his fingers again… and again, and again.
“Having trouble?” Pip asked, finding Spike’s frustration to be very entertaining.
“There’s too much moisture in the air. It’d be a lot easier if-”
Click. Ignition.
They both jumped a little at the flicker of emerald fire that suddenly burnt in the atmosphere over Spike’s hand. Leaping at the chance, Pipsqueak was quick to hold his arms out to soak in the warmth. His following, exaggerated ‘Ahhhh’ drew a laugh out of both.
“Better now?” Spike half smiled.
“Muchly.”
Spike resumed walking and Pip hurried to follow. With Ponyville proper little more than specks in the distance, they found their presence increasingly excluded. The trees had been long stripped of their leaves by the chill of Winter. Any would be curious creature was in hibernation. It looked more like a desert than a woodland. How much further was it to the-?
Shhhhhwap.
Silence. Both stood stock still, breathing with only slight gasps for air.
Spike’s eyes searched for the source of the sound, only to notice the violent splatter of powdery ice on a tree trunk to his left. They traced the trajectory to a nearby clearing, surrounded by shrubbery.
Their dark figures would stand out amongst the white snow to anyone watching from a distance. Out in the open. The nearest ridge was a good thirty metres away.
“Was that what I think it was?” Pip whispered, eyes scanning from side to side. Would they?
“The clubhouse will be at ten o’clock,” Spike said lowly. They would.
“At least one contact at two o’clock.”
“They’ll open fire as soon as we move.” Spike frowned and lowered his head, still looking forward, towards a small ditch. They could make it. He communicated his plan to Pipsqueak, who agreed.
“Three.”
“Two.”
“One.”
“Go!” the taller boy shouted, and both took off at a sprint. The sounds of snowball impacts trailed closely behind them.
Shwap shwap shwap shwap!
They rolled into the ditch, pushing their bodies into the recess to make sure of their own protection. The onslaught continued, if a little slower. Regardless, they were pinned, and the snow around them was of too low a quality to function as any decent projectile.
Another impact, just above Pip’s head, sent a small shower of white powder into his hair. Something was wrong with these snowballs. They were a little too accurate, a little too forcefully thrown.
Spike extended his hand just above the ridge, only to withdraw it less than a second before a white projectile whizzed past, through where his hand would have been. It had been a very slight shade of violet. A slight shimmer as it impacted a thick tree branch.
“They’re being guided!” Spike grunted in annoyance.
“What are?” asked Pipsqueak, still dusting the top of his head.
“The snowballs! I think Sweetie’s using telekinesis.”
Pipsqueak glowered, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice as he shouted “Cheaters!” in the direction of the incoming fire.
“Spike? Pipsqueak? What are you guys doing here?” A squeaky, pubescent voice came from behind them.
Spike looked up to the talking tree on the other side of the road. “Snips, is that you?”
“Snails, help them!” shouted the oak. There was a collective giggle from the other direction; the girls seemed to be enjoying their newfound tactical superiority.
“I got it!” A tall, lanky figure emerged from behind an evergreen pine tree, also across the road, crouched low to the ground. Rushing forward, Snails let fly with the two snowballs in his hands, before dropping to the ground as the attack was promptly countered. Clearly, he could actually see the mischievous girls, unlike Spike and Pipsqueak.
“I say we make a run for the clubhouse,” rasped Pip, turning to Spike.
Spike made a gesture with his hand. “Ladies first.”
Elbowing him in the stomach in a not-so-playful way, Pipsqueak jumped to his feet and began running towards the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ tree house. Spike made it all of four steps before he was hit squarely in the side by a well thrown snowball. Another hit his upper thigh. Following Pipsqueak, he clambered over a snow covered park bench and ducked his head. Good, the snow here was much better, more powdery. It would do nicely.
Packing it tightly, Spike smiled. He could hear the sounds of snow combat approaching with giggles and goofy laughs. Soon, he saw the athletic form of Scootaloo appear, her normally leaf shaped hair flattened by a beanie. She was running to cover, giving Spike the perfect chance to hit her orange jumper, splattering it with ice. Sadly, in doing so, he also gave away his own position.
“Hey! Spike’s over there!” she called to the other girls. Snips and Snails could hardly help Spike and Pipsqueak now, somehow kept busy by Sweetie Belle alone. Where was Applebloom?
Before he could make that coherent thought, Scootaloo was already making a counter attack with a vengeance. Spike’s hair was shown no mercy. The slush began melting instantly. momentarily distracted by the state of his hair, Spike didn’t notice the farm girl charging directly at him.
“Look-” Pipsqueak began to warn from next to him, but was too late.
Applebloom crashed into Spike at full speed, sending them both tumbling into the snow. Spike could have sworn he was lifted off of his feet by the sheer force. Junior librarian and farmhand locked in a wrestle for dominance. Each thrusted the other into the padded ground at every opportunity. Applebloom won eventually, years of lifting crates of apples out matching years of lifting stacks of books. She pinned him down by the shoulders, straddling him in much the same way Applejack did. Hereditary habit?
Her face was just a bit too close for comfort, especially in this lover’s position. Spike thanked the princesses that the girl atop him was wearing long pants, as opposed to her regular slim fitting shorts. “Gotcha!” she announced, as if it weren’t already apparent. Her hands descended to his biceps. Her rosy cheeks belied nothing of her enjoyment.
“Okay, okay, I give. You win…” Bringing up a bite-size piece of snow, Spike flicked his fingers to give Applebloom a cold, white facial. The girl shot up, making a sour face. She quickly scooped up a fistful of snow and dashed it over Spike’s head. “Ahck!”
“Fear not, my companion, I will come to your aid!”
Points for tenacity.
Spike and Applebloom glanced to the side just in time to see Pipsqueak running towards them, snowballs held clumsily, and Scootaloo running in an adjacent direction. Spike didn’t have to know trigonometry to figure out what was about to happen.
Girl met boy.
Athlete met Trottinghamite.
Red Semi-trailer met powder blue Prius.
In total honesty, it was the most affectionate tackle Spike had ever seen, if that was possible. Scootaloo made to run just past him, but wrapped her arms around his waist at the last moment and swung him around. Her momentum carried them both forward and down onto the ice covered ground. As was her intention, Scootaloo landed back first, with the smaller boy folding over her, arms stretched out, grasping for the sky.
The taller girl proceeded to noogie Pipsqueak thoroughly, covering up her backward hug quite nicely. Pip was torn between fighting off the knuckles grating his scalp, and the arm around his waist. Oddly, he chose the latter. “My hair, my hair!” he yelped, then burst into laughter.
It was short lived, though. A very low, deliberate cough brought them all from their elation-induced ignorance, save for Sweetie Belle, Snips and Snails, who were still battling it out. Only now realizing her awkward position, Applebloom dismounted Spike and scrambled to her feet, the slightest tinge of red on her cheeks.
“Oh hey, Big Mac, what’re you doin’ here?” she asked, trying to hide her fluster.
The quiet man glanced around the scene with a half inquisitive gaze before settling on his little sister. His expression was unreadable, as always. “Ah’m here fer’ Spike,” he stated bluntly.
Applebloom turned to Spike, who was still on the ground, and helped him up. They gave each other a quick, questioning, sideways glance before she motioned him forward. He forced an unknowing smile as Applebloom left him to stand by Pipsqueak and Scootaloo.
Spike stood almost a foot shorter than Mac. The big man would ever do it figuratively, but he had to look down on Spike in this particular moment. He turned, and gestured for the boy to follow him. As Spike had somehow expected, they faced the direction of the farmhouse.
“Applejack wants ta’ see ya.” He was definitely to the point about these things.
“Okay,” Spike avoided, “I’ll go see her now, I guess.” He made to leave, but a strong hand caught his shoulder and spun him back around.
“Ah ain’t finished,” Mac drawled, lowering himself slightly. “Ah know what you and Applejack did th’other night.”
Spike froze, eyes widening. “Y-you do?”
“Eeyup.” Fearful, Spike took a step back. Big Macintosh stopped him, seeing his reaction. “Hold on; Ah ain’t gonna hurt’ya,” he soothed, “Frankly, it’s none ‘a muh business who Applejack sees. Jus’ make sure you treat her right.”
Spike looked Mac in the eye. Green met green. “I will.”
“Good. Now, get goin’. She’ll be in her bedroom at home,” Mac clued, giving the boy a more than firm pat on the back.
Applejack clutched her forehead, pushing herself further into her pillow. She groaned aloud. Her head felt like it was ready to explode. What did she do to deserve this?
Oh, right... Drinking again.
She closed her eyes. Despite possessing several barrels of drink every cider season, the members of the Apple family made a point of not having more than a glass each, half a glass for Applebloom. It was merchandise, after all. This of course meant that Applejack could hold her liquor about as well as Pinkie Pie could hold still.
She wondered how Rainbow Dash was feeling right now. She’d had even more, somehow. That girl could drink. Applejack would have laughed, had the pain in her head not dimmed her sense of humour. She was no stranger to hangovers, but that didn’t make them any less debilitating.
“Hello?” whispered her favourite voice in the world. Cracking open her eyes, Applejack craned her neck to the side. Spike stood in the doorway, a look of concern on his features. “What happened to you?” he asked, walking towards the bed.
The farmer flexed her abdominal muscles painfully, moving into a sitting position. “Ah jus’ had a little too much ta drink last night, sugar; that’s all. Some coffee, and Ah’ll be right as rain.” She smiled as best she could.
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, Ah do think so.”
Spike shook his head. “No. If it’s alcohol, coffee will only make it worse.”
Her arm across her forehead, Applejack looked at him accusingly. “How would you know anything about hangovers?”
“I don’t, but I do know that alcohol is a toxin, and needs to be diluted with water. Coffee will just dehydrate you more.” After taking a rather pointless look at the door, Spike added, “I’ll be right back,” walking out the door, towards the kitchen.
The boy returned not a minute later, holding a pitcher of water and single glass. The ice cubes within the glass clinked faintly as he filled it. “This should help, even if it’s just a little,” he smiled, waiting for Applejack to sit up in the bed before passing her the drink.
To a certain extent, he was right. The cold water hitting her tongue reminded the blonde haired woman of a thirst she didn’t know she had. She downed another glass quickly. “Feel better?” Spike asked, knowing she did.
“A little...” She sat the glass on the nightstand, next to the pitcher, and gestured towards him with her finger. When he leaned close enough, she closed the distance and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Applejack moved over in the bed far enough to accommodate another body, wincing immediately afterwards.
“Still hurt?” He looked more concerned than he should have been. She nodded. Sitting on his knees beside her, Spike pulled at the blankets. “Here, roll over.”
The woman absently obeyed, tossing off the covers and rolling onto her front. Much to her surprise, she felt a pair of hands grip her shoulders tightly, their thumbs over the base of her neck. It started slow and thorough, simply kneading the flesh in her shoulders, but gradually, Spike built a rhythm. Through her shirt, her muscles felt very tight, as he had expected. Not unusual for someone in pain.
Applejack crossed her forearms on the pillow beneath her and turned her head to the side, moaning out loud. He was certainly skilled with his hands. “Mmmph, you done this before, Spike?”
“Yeah, you know how worked up Twilight can get, so I do this for her sometimes.”
The woman breathed a laugh. “Where would that girl be without you?”
“With a shocking neck cramp.” That made them both laugh. Applejack’s was short lived, however, drawn out into a relaxed sigh as Spike moved further down her back. He was barely at her shoulder blades when she stirred.
“Wait,” she mumbled, using her arms to push herself up. Her thick fingers hooked the base of her tea green shirt and swiftly pulled it upwards. As per her standard, she made no effort cover herself in front of him. She laid back down, identical to how she was lying just a few moments before.
A little disbelieving of his own eyes, Spike continued as if she hadn’t just taken her shirt off. Or at least, as normally as he could. He could feel the smoothness of her skin now, something he wasn’t really used to. Well… there may have been one or two occasions where Twilight elected to go topless, but she had made him promise not to tell anyone under the threat of ‘toasterifization’. The teen was in no rush to find out what that meant.
As his palms crested the small of the woman’s back, it dawned on Spike just how special he was to be sharing this moment with Applejack. Just like that magical night that had taken his innocence, she was completely opening herself up to him. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the feeling. With only a few movements of his hand, he could make her tense, relax, hum, shudder or anything in between.
Normally, at this point Spike would work his way back up to her neck. He certainly never dared to try to give Twilight a… buttock massage, but something about what he knew lay underneath her dark red briefs drove him further. Her groan of approval helped too. She was really sensitive down there, but her wanted to make her feel even better.
Maybe he could ask her to roll over and take off…
No. If Applejack had a hangover, sexual stimulation was the last thing she needed. He moved down lower, only to stop at her upper thigh, noticing her tattoo. Three, bright red apples adorned her right leg. He traced one with his finger. Definitely well done, if a little predictable.
“Long story,” she sighed, as if sensing his curiosity.
There were no nerves to stimulate on her thighs and calves, so the budding masseuse moved straight to the farmer’s feet. They were unexpectedly tender, not calloused at all. Of course, she always wore her boots outside.
“Okay,” Spike coughed, “That’s all I can give for now. My fingers are starting to get tired.”
Applejack mumbled something in acknowledgement, not even opening her eyes. She worked a hand out from under her head and extended it toward him expectantly. Not knowing what else to do, Spike reached out and took it in his own. Only for a fraction of a second, it seemed, as she pulled his arm hard enough to practically drag him up the bed. Rolling onto her side, she pulled him in for what she considered much needed cuddle time.
Spike ended up on his back, with Applejack’s head resting on his shoulder and her arm across his stomach. Finding nothing else for his arms to do, he wrapped one around her neck and to her shoulder and held the hand on his chest with the other. He didn’t mind this position.
“Applejack, what are we going to do about… us?” Spike intoned, something that had been bugging him.
Her face scrunched up, roused. “What about us?” Her eyes outright refused to open.
Spike pushed, “This whole thing about keeping it a secret. I’m not the best at keeping secrets like that, especially from Twilight. They’re going to find out eventually.”
Applejack sighed dejectedly, “Ah know. Rainbow Dash already figured out Ah’m seein’ someone, but Ah don’t think she’d suspect you.”
The teen nodded. “But Big Mac knows, for sure.”
That gave the woman pause. She propped herself up on her elbow. “What?”
“He told me he knew when he found me, but said it was none of his business.”
Applejack huffed. “Con-sarn it, e’ could’a talked ta’ me first.” She laid back down, groaning that Mac would ‘get it’ the next time she saw him.
“I would like an excuse to see you more often, though,” he said, squeezing her hand. It had minimal effect, given the size difference.
She thought for a second. “Well, winter wrap up isn’t too far away, and we’ll need plenty ‘o-”
“That’s ages away,” he sighed, “Besides, you’ll be busy then.”
Applejack laughed, then closed her eyes in thought. Nothing… There wasn’t a whole lot of work to do, not until close to Spring. Up until then, they’d just be vending the apples in storage. “Wanna learn how ta’ ride a horse?” The proposal was in jest, but neither of them laughed, opting to raise their eyebrows.
Damn zips.
It just wouldn’t budge. Kept getting caught just above her waistline. She grunted and braced herself against the metal lockers that lined the wall. This wasn’t good. She hadn’t even gotten in the glider, and she was already having problems. Rainbow groaned and rubbed her head sorely.
“Need some help, Rainbow Dash?” A grey haired woman approached, her own green flight suit completely on and hair done up in a single horizontal roll at the crown of her head.. She took the other pilot’s zip and pulled it the rest of the way up smoothly.
“Thanks, Cloudchaser,” Rainbow smiled over the bags that clung just under her eyes. Cloudchaser took notice.
“Are you sure you should be flying? You look a little beat up…”
Stifling a yawn, Dash replied, “No, I’ll be fine. Just had a bit of a late night; that’s all.” She managed a small smile, despite the sickness in her stomach.
Ailerons. Flaps. Tail trim. Spoiler.
Rainbow mentally went through her pre-flight checklist.
Magic battery at full. Chemical tanks full. Air speed zeroed. Flight controls ready. Launch piston charged. Inertial Dampener engaged.
Shaking her head to rid herself of the tiredness, she brushed her finger over the launch control. It was only a standard cloud dispersal flight, just to hold off any potential snow-storms. It was going to be a rather warm winter this year.
The pressurized piston released, and the glider’s rail was pushed forward with 3.5 Gs of force. It slid forward off the cliff, magical thrusters powering it into the clouds.
Rainbow Dash tried to concentrate on dispersing the precipitation preventing chemicals evenly into the air, but the pounding in her head made it difficult. Stupid alcohol. It failed her yet again. Although, it probably would have been smarter to go out on the weekend, instead of Monday. But neither Pinkie nor Applejack had raised the point, and she certainly couldn’t be expected to think that far in the future. Tired…
Her eyelids were getting heavier, no thanks to the feeble two hours of sleep she’d gotten. She took a deep breath.
Applejack had drank more than she expected her to, not that it was that surprising considering how weird the farmer had acted. What was it about her new boyfriend that she had to hide it from the rest of them? It wasn’t like it was her cousin or something… was it?
The purpose of her flight became a blur past the canopy.
No, Applejack would never do that. Although… If it was Braeburn, Rainbow could understand. Couldn’t stop smiling, strong, hardworking, treated women like royalty, and he wore a funny hat. Practically the whole package. The only drawback ran in the family, their own commitment to their work. Apples, apples, trees, trees, trees, trees.
Tree… tree… funny word.
Even funnier, she could have sworn she saw a really big tree just in front of the glider, getting closer very quickly.
