> Dust on the Bottle
>  by Merc the Jerk
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Winter
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	A nervous young man by the name of Ben stood by the wooden coffin in the middle of the snowy graveyard. His fingers were clasped tightly in front of him as he looked at the handful of people standing mutely nearby. 

It felt wrong, having a funeral during the snowing, chilled December morning. Felt disrespectful, in its own way. Still, what happened happened. There wasn’t any going back. With that thought in mind, he looked down at the notes in his hand and began to read.

“L-Logan Jubilee was a good man,” the pastor spoke up, once it seemed like the few people attending were attentively watching him. “A man full of life, vigor, and courage. A man who had to work for everything he had. He was born poor to a mother with seven kids. He worked his family’s farm until his twenties, when he then served his country in war, where he rose to the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade and was honorably discharged after shrapnel from a grenade blew out a knee and made him unfit to serve. He returned to farmwork when he was forty. Thanks to his good nature and business sense, his property became one of the largest vineyards in the whole of Louisiana. It was there that he met the love of his life--a young woman working the vineyards. Sherri Jubilee.”

He gestured to the woman dressed in black up front. Her red brows tensed up as she stared at the coffin being prepared to get lowered into the waiting mouth of the earth. Her lips pursed as she clasped a single rose in her gloved, delicate hands.

“Together,” the young pastor continued, “they spent years sowing seeds of kindness and harvesting their bounty. He is survived by his beloved wife, and their adoptive son, Martin Jubilee.” He rubbed his hands together to dispel the quickly growing chill. “Now, I'd ask to join me in prayer. Prayer for his friends, prayer for his family, and prayer that Logan has found comfort walking alongside the Lord above. Please, bow your heads.”


000


Sherri walked away from the fresh grave, her head held high beneath her veil and her steps sure.

The woman had never been the best at funerals—the fact she wasn't crying was an oddity. Then again, she might have just cried herself dry over the past few days. The teenager walking nearby glanced towards her as they made their way to the car.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, running a hand over his crew cut.

Sherri offered a weak smile, her normally pretty and cream-colored features muted from a lack of sleep.

“We knew it was coming, Marty,” she said, her light, airy southern voice reassuring him despite her weary appearance. “We shouldn't worry about him anymore—he's on his way home.” She approached Logan's car—her car now, she grimly corrected herself, and sat in the passenger seat.

“Should be some, uh, mail for you on the dash,” the dark-skinned man offered, moving to the driver's seat and starting the engine. Marty gave a worried glance her direction and shifted to reverse, pulling out of the gravel parking lot and getting on the road.

Sherri finally gathered herself enough to lean forward and grab the stack of cards and envelopes and thumb through them. Well-wishes, condolences, thoughts and prayers. A water bill.

That gave her pause. The address bar:

Sherri Jubilee.

Not Logan. She sighed, running a hand through her ruby-red hair. Not Logan.

Life went on without him. That hurt the most. 

She turned her head, leaning against the window and staring at the passing memories. The church they got married at. A few minutes later, the road where he wrecked their first company truck—just a few months after his discharge, before he even started courting her. A turn down the road took them past a corn field, where Logan had proposed to her. Sweet bastard even hired the property owner to come out and spell her name in the air with a crop duster.

“Look...” Marty started, interrupting Sherri from her thoughts as he wrung the steering wheel in his strong hands. “I know this is a bad time, but Mr. West called yesterday—“

Sherri gave a worried grimace that she tried to hide as she glanced over to him. “Marty...”

“And he said he needed to know if we're going to liquidate the estate—“

“Marty.”

“I told him you were considering it but didn't have any plans, and he said—“

“Marty.” 

He paused, blinking. “Yeah?”

“Can we please not talk about lawyers yet?” she tensely asked.

“Sorry.”

They drove in dead silence for a while longer, Marty awkwardly tapping the wheel as Sherri ran a finger delicately over the beauty mark on her face.

“Besides...” she trailed off. “I haven't given up on the vineyard yet, no matter how much Mr. West wants to think otherwise, you hear?”

He hummed in thought. “But West is right in one regard: vineyard's profit margin is getting narrower by the day.”

“Only because Logan could outwork anyone we put in the fields, bad knee be damned.” She sighed. “Now...”

He gave a stilted smile. “He was a good guy. I know he wasn't my real dad, but—“

“Don't you say that,” Sherri instantly rebuked, her green eyes narrowing. “You're my son just like Logan's your dad, blood or not.”

They drove on for a moment longer. Marty glanced again out his window. “I just want to make sure you're taken care of.”

“I'll be fine. It's just a matter of getting the farm up and running again. All I need is someone with quick hands and a strong back to help me out. I'll check around town tomorrow, even.”

The car rolled down the road, leaving a handful of Sherri's memories behind.


000


“Would you rather... uh... eat a steak, or go two weeks without bathing?” Rainbow Dash asked, floating on a small cloud she had borrowed from a larger collection up above. The pegasus rested her head on her hooves and smirked at a perturbed Rarity.

“Why, that is absolutely disgusting!” she replied, doffing her mane with a hoof.

“Eyup,” Applejack agreed with a nod, squinting through the sun's glare and looking at everyone else sitting around in a circle.

“Quite! I mean, who could go two days without bathing, let alone a week! Steak, obviously,” Rarity huffed out.

The group shared an uneasy glance with one another at her quick response.

“Ok...” Twilight Sparkle said, raising a brow. “Guess it's your turn,” she said, glancing at Discord. “Would you rather... work a year as an accountant, or turned to stone for five years?”

“Full-time position?” the spirit of chaos asked.

“Forty hour work week, yes.”

“Will I be conscious of every agonizing, painful second inside my stone prison?”

“Quite.”

“Stone,” he promptly replied. “Accountant's almost as bad as a dentist when it comes to jobs.” He rubbed the patch of beard on his chin. “Alright... hmm... would you, Applejack—“ he violently  sneezed, launching an explosion of fireworks out of his nose. One touched the farmpony and in a spark of light she vanished, hat and all.

The others sat in shock, staring at the empty patch where Applejack had laid seconds ago. Small wisps of smoke wafted from the ground. They turned their attention towards the draconequus.

“Ok,” He held his miss-matched hands up and gave an accepting nod. “My fault. Should of covered my nose.”


000


Sherri paced inside her lavish room, unsure what to do. Days like today, Logan used to read by the fireplace downstairs. Sherri was never much of a reader, but the way he'd passionately speak about books one after another was enough to keep her interest. She sighed, sitting on her plush bed and running a finger over a framed photograph of a well-built man in fatigues.

“Logan... I'm sorry I'm not adjusting. I know you'd want me to get back to work as soon as I could—it's how you handled your father's death, but...” She squeezed her raw eyes shut. “I guess I just ain't as strong as you were, sugar. I-I wish I was, but...” Sherri put the photo back on the nightstand. She stared up at the ceiling in thought.

A knock at the door. Sherri ignored it—it could wait.

Another knock a moment later, this one more frantic. “Miss Jubilee?” a voice on the other end called. She recognized it as Hans, one of the oldest workers on the vineyard and one of the closest to the family.

Whatever it was had to of been important. She rose and opened the door, noting Hans and the worn stetson he clutched in front of him. 

“Yes?” she asked

“Ma'am, you're gonna want to see this,” the old man said, his words urgent as he snapped around and made his way downstairs.

They promptly came to the modestly posh lobby, where a group of some of the other year-round employees stood in a half-circle by the door, their backs turned to Sherri and Hans.

“We're here,” Hans said, biting his lower lip in worry. The group parted, revealing a man holding a limp blonde woman in his arms. Sherri didn't have to make much of a guess to assume she was nude, save for the blanket draped over her to protect her modesty.

“What is this?” she finally asked, looking over the young woman in curiosity.

“We're hoping you can tell us,” Hans said. “A woman's touch and all. Just figured we could put her somewhere until she wakes up.”

“Do you think she's... dangerous?” Sherry took a few steps forward, grabbing the woman's hands and splaying her fingers. “It's not often you find someone in the snow like that. Especially honest folk.”

“I already looked over her,” the man holding her said. He paused. “That didn't come out right. What I mean to say is that she didn't have any needle marks on her. We were just fixing some fence over by the road and 'bam!'” He nodded. “I think she might have fallen off the freeway, maybe.”

“But why is she nude, I wonder?” Hans pondered.

None had an answer. Finally, Sherri spoke up.

“Kidnapping?”

The man holding her winced. “Maybe. Though that sounds like...”

“I know what it sounds like, darling. But we are fairly close to New Orleans... maybe a tourist?”

“In winter?”

“You have a better idea?” she curtly replied, leaving the man speechless. She sighed seconds after snapping at him. “I'm sorry... it's just been...”

“God, I know, Sherri. We're real sorry for it, but...”

“I know, life goes on even when you want it stopped for a bit.” She gave a considering rub of her chin. “Take her to my room. When she wakes up, I'll just have a chat with her.”

As the man and a few others marched her upstairs, Sherri couldn't help but glance to the ceiling, worry eating at her gut.

“Logan, this is gonna get harder before it's easier, ain't it?”
> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Discord sighed, crossing his claws over his long body as he sat nearby where the mares had seen their friend last.

“For the last time,” he addressed them, tiredly rubbing his fingers at the bridge of his nose, then counting off his words with his digits. “She didn't explode. She isn't dead,” he glanced at Pinkie Pie. “And she didn't transform into an invisible velociraptor either, Pinkie.”

“Darn. I was so sure of that guess too,” she pouted, crossing her forelegs in thought. “Hmm... how about...” She suddenly came alive, her hoof making a noise not quite unlike a snapping finger. “She transformed into a fly, but only partway, so she's all like 'help me!'” Pinkie squeaked out in a small, high-pitched tone. “But we can't hear her, so we just try to swat at it!” 

After a long, dead pause between everyone, Rainbow Dash smacked a mosquito that had stung her.

“Rainbow Dash! No!” the pink ball of energy rocketed towards the mare, peeling off the mosquito's remains from the pegasus's hoof and clutching the squashed bug tightly to her heart. “Applejack! Are you ok!? Talk to me!”

“It was a dimensional gate,” Twilight Sparkle realized, turning to Discord and ignoring Pinkie being Pinkie. “I can sense your magical residue on the spell's area of effect.”

“Hmm...” Discord thought, stroking his beard. “I don't know how I did that. Too much salsa last night, I guess. At most I'd figure a miscast teleportation spell to send her to Everfree, or turning her into stone, or maybe I'd just give her fatter thighs. Multidimensional stuff has got to be a one in a million shot from me.” He beamed slightly, nodding smugly. “Still got it.”

“This is serious!” Twilight Sparkle rebuked, her wings spread slightly in agitation. “With her gone into a dimensional gate, it's going to be forever before we can find her.”

“A d-dimensional gate?” Fluttershy quietly gasped. “W-what's that mean?”

“It means that wherever Applejack is, it sure isn't Equestria.” She looked up at the sunny sky with a frown.

“Can't you just... oh, I dunno...” Rainbow Dash quickly poked Twilight's horn. “Use that thing and get her back?”

“It's chaos magic, it's so different from my own that I wouldn't even know where to start.”

“Then make him do it,” Dash said, glancing over at Discord.

“Yeah, because I know where she is in the other fourteen-thousand seven hundred and eleven other universes.” Discord rolled his eyes.

“Well, it wouldn't be proper to not do something to try and find her,” Rarity concluded in. “Boorish, uncouth nature or not, Applejack is a dear friend of ours.”

“We're just going to have to do it the hard way: travel to Canterlot and gain Celestia's permission to analyze the worlds one at a time until we find her. Discord should be able to find  her scent if we go through them one at a time. From there, it should be just as simple as traveling to the other world and taking her back.”

“Finding her scent?” Rainbow Dash asked with a smirk. “What is he, part dachshund?”

Discord laughed heartily, then his expression took a turn for the serious. “Eighth Rottweiler, my grandmother's side, actually.”


000


Applejack shivered from the cold, some of the worst she had felt in a long time. She brought her back legs up to her chest and wrapped her forelegs around them as she lay in her bed. As sleep slowly left its grasp on her, something felt off. AJ opened her eyes and was so overwhelmed she had to take a moment to even process what was going on.

She lay in an unfamiliar bed, wrapped tightly in a heavy blanket. The room was modestly posh—an odd juxtaposition between some of Applejack's southern charm and Rarity's appeal to class. A wide bed with beautifully designed quilts alongside a carved and polished hoofrest. Heavy cashmere curtains obscuring a large glass door that lead to a snow covered balcony. A vanity at the far end of the room and a door to her left. A vanilla candle wafted its scent from a nearby nightstand, where a small framed picture of a creature adorned in a tuxedo stood. Jack reached her hoof from under the blanket and froze.

Her orange hoof was gone—replaced by a flat, square end the color of a dark bronze, with five narrower protrusions coming out of it.

What these things called? Fingers? Yeah. That's what that there Iron Bill fella had. Fingers and hands.

She brought the digits up to her face to look at them closer and realized something.

Her muzzle was gone too. She took her other mutilated hoof out from the blanket and felt frantically along her face, horrified at its complete alteration. It felt misshapen, oval.

She needed to see herself. She had to. Applejack threw off the blanket and turned to the side, automatically preparing to rise off the bed. The farmpony froze, not for the first time in the last agonizing moments.

Her body was completely changed. Elongated, hairless, with two modestly large mounds of flesh a little way below her neck. Jack noted a nipple on each one.

Not flat an' kinda hidden like a pony's, she mused. Kinda like a cow's udder, but teat's a lil' smaller. She found relating the experience to something she knew about reassuring in a way.

Having enough of looking at her body; she rose, briefly overcome with vertigo—her body had to be double her normal height, maybe even triple. Sure, everything in the room was scale to her new size, but years of working the fields and relying on her body to muscle through dozens of dangers made her acutely aware of the changes. 

And that line of thought brought her right back to where she started.

She needed a mirror. She needed to see all of herself.

AJ finally gained enough confidence to take a step forward, shifting her bizarrely backwards knees in a jilting motion and moving the flat of her odd shaped hooves onward.

She stumbled and landed in a crumpled heap on the violet and blue carpet.

How in the whole of Equestria does Spike manage this all the time? Applejack pondered in between swears harsh enough to make any sailorpony blush.

AJ pushed herself up and experimentally pulled herself forward on her knees, dragging her legs behind her like they were crippled. She crossed the carpet and hoisted herself up on the vanity, then leaned forward, gazing deeply at the reflection as her legs trembled.

The face that stared back at her was unrecognizable, save for her expressive green eyes and the small, white freckles that kissed her dark bronze cheeks. Her mane hung long on her body, reaching all the way down to her thick, muscled thighs. She noticed something off-colored on the far side of her thighs—she quickly twisted her backside over and let out a small sigh of relief.

Her three apple cutie mark still stood proudly on her body, resting just above and to the side of the crack of her butt.

That was all well and good, but... what now?

She frowned, taking a step towards the bed and falling once more.

Consarnit, she hissed in her thoughts, slowly rising and rubbing at one of her strangely placed udders. Thing was sensitive.

She made her way back to the bed and sat. Now that she didn't have something to occupy herself with—a goal in mind to accomplish, she realized how sensitive her body had become—even now, her bare skin broke out into gooseflesh at the cold; she quickly moved her hands over the blanket on the bed and wrapped herself tightly into it. She noticed how soft the material was. The farmpony twitched her hands slightly, all but awed at how if she concentrated, she could move the individual appendages on her paw.

I'm startin' ta act like Twilight, AJ wryly thought. It was true in a way—usually Applejack just took things at face value and ran with it. This, though, wasn't any usual situation. Keeping this situation in detached, impartial observation helped keep her calm. If she thought about how she felt over the whole thing, she might start screaming and never stop.

The doorknob to her left turned and slowly opened, revealing another creature like the one AJ had become, only shorter, paler and a bit softer. She wore a dress that could have easily been at home on Rarity—a lacy sort of deal that Jack was sure the fashionista would call 'daring'. The plunging neckline showed off a decent amount of the other's skin and udders, alongside bringing attention to a pendant she loosely wore around her collarbone.

What caught Jack's attention most was the creature's face. Muzzle was, of course, off, as were a few other proportions, but everything else seemed perfect. Her brow, her soft, warm green eyes, her pretty lips, the beauty mark below her eye. There was no mistake. AJ knew her.

“Glad you're up,” the other said in a proper southern accent a hair less noticeable than AJ's own pronounced drawl. “Was afraid you'd catch a sickness from the cold you were in.” She nodded down to the tray in her hands with two cups that had steam rising off of them. “Got some hot tea. It should help with the chill a bit.”

Jack took one and noted how warm the cup was resting against her digits. She sipped it and was grateful that her sense of taste didn't seem too different. The beverage was hot and bittersweet, just the way she liked her tea on chilly nights back home.

Home.

Where was she? How far was home?

More importantly: how could she even get back?

“I was going to have a kettle to myself, but I heard you banging around a bit up here, so I made a second cup,” the odd looking mare said.

Do I call her a mare? What do I call these things?

She pushed the fleeting thought away. “T-thanks,” AJ hoarsely stammered out, the voice—her voice—coming out from this new body feeling so alien and wrong that the digits on her back hooves curled.

Toes, a small voice told her, sounding suspiciously like Twilight Sparkle. Toes. Fingers on the front legs. Like a monkey or a minotaur.

“I have some clothing for you, when you finish your drink—they may be a bit snug, but I'm sure it'll be an improvement.”

“Thanks, Cherry.” AJ nodded, then winced at her mistake. If Twilight had drilled anything into her head after that 'mirror incident' as she called it, it was to never make the mistake of thinking they were the same pony as they were on the right side of the portal. Similar, but different.

The other paused, briefly looking surprised. “How'd you know my name, honey?”

“Uh...” She froze, turning her fairly simple-minded brain into overdrive. “It's what's on the sign out front, ain't it?” she asked, recalling how Cherry Jubilee—her world's Cherry—had her farm laid out. She hoped she was on the right track as she gestured a hand at the woman's dress. “I Jus' figured yer the proprietor of this here operation by yer looks.” She bit at her lip and glanced up and to the side.

After a long pause, 'Cherry' slowly nodded, her face showing obvious skepticism. “The workers said you were unconscious.”

Applejack gave a nervous shrug, not saying even a syllable. Shootfire. Couldn't have been Rarity or somepony else here, could it? She'd be able ta stretch the truth like it was putty-goop from one of her fru-fru makeup kits.

“Well, either way, you lucked out on your guess. I'm Sherri Jubilee, owner of this here property.”

“Ma'am,” Jack said, tilting her head slightly and reaching for the rim of her stetson on instinct. She patted her head and paused, surprised at the lack of her most essential accessory.

“Got your hat with the clothes I laid out for you,” Sherri said, guessing that's what the blonde's plight was. “Though that hat in a way just gives me more questions.”

AJ took a small drink of her tea, trying to hide her shaking hoofs—hands, she corrected, from being seen. “Q-questions, ma'am?”

“Of course.” She paused, seeming to wrestle with herself on how best to approach this. “I mean, some of my boys found you in a sorry state—nude as you were born, save for the hat, and lying down in the snow.” Sherri sipped at her tea, not speaking for a moment. “It gives a... strange first impression, doesn't it?”

“Reckon it might,” AJ admitted.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Sherri giving a long, hard look at the former mare. Finally, she sighed. “So, what's your story, hon?”

“'Bout how I got here?”

Sherri nodded, sipping again at her drink.

AJ thought long and hard about what to say. 

Horsefeathers. Yer not gonna get anywhere lyin' 'bout it.

“Ain't sure if yer gonna believe me,” she finally said, looking straight at the her. Still, she spoke. “I was with my friends back at my town. One of 'em  cast a teleportin' spell or somethin', an...” She shrugged. “Here I am.”

“A spell?” Sherri flatly asked. “Like magic?”

“What? Y'all don't got that here?” AJ asked, scratching her head. “Well shootfire. Now I'm even more worried 'bout gettin' home...”

She ran a hand over the frills of her long, delicate skirt and gave a doubtful gaze Applejack's way. “So you're saying you're a wizard of some kind?”

“Shoot no! I'm jus' a good ol' fashioned farmpony.”

“...Farmpony...” Sherri dryly said. “Mmm-hmm.”

“I ain't lyin'!” AJ barked, scowling.

“Do you have any proof?”

“P-proof?” Applejack blanched. She took a moment and breathed out. After a moment of thought her expression turned serious. Powerful, as she looked at Sherri. “I ain't got nothin'. Only thing I can do is I can give ya my word.”

She was about give a cutting retort, but her words got caught in her throat on seeing the other  like she was.

Her narrowed eyes and neutral frown reminded her of Logan, in a way. He had that same hard, uncompromising expression when half their harvest got ruined thanks to faulty seals on the wine casks. It was an honest, grim look of conviction that he carried when he told her that things would be alright.

Anytime he had that expression, things did.

Sherri gathered her thoughts and bit at her lip, deciding on something. “What's your name, hon?”

“Applejack.”

“Like the drink?”

“Like the drink.”

Sherri's lips quirked slightly. “Well, Applejack, what's your plan?”

AJ opened her mouth. After a long, awkward pause, she shut it and took to scratching a chin. “Ain't got an idea. I reckon if I sit tight near where ya'll found me, Twilight'll come fer me.”

“And just how long will that take?”

“I... I dunno,” Applejack admitted. “Ain't like this has happened ta me before.”

“What will you do for food in the meantime? Shelter? What if she doesn't—“

“She'll come,” the former pony quickly said. “I trust her.”

“Well, what if it takes a lot longer than what you're thinking, how's that?”

AJ swallowed. “Ain't sure. Jus' gonna have ta hope it's quick.”

Sherri put a finger to her chin. “Earlier, you said you were a... farmpony, was it?”

“Eyup. Born an' raised.”

“Well...”


000


“You told her what?” Marty asked, his jaw nearly unhinged at how far it had dropped from Sherri's news. She glanced over at him, adjusting the tray she carried as she moved towards the kitchen from the foyer, his footsteps marching almost directly behind her.

“I said she could work here.”

“But that's...” he touched his forehead with a finger and gestured at her. “Why?”

“She needed help.”

“Mental help!” Marty argued, pointing up the stairs. “You told me she thought she was a pony—you know, shit on the grass, eat grain, that kind of thing!”

“Ain't sure that's exactly what she meant, hon.” Sherri started to wash the teacups in water at the sink. Marty rolled his eyes and lightly pushed her to the side, taking to washing the cups himself.

“Either way, it's crazy! She's crazy!” He glanced over at her. “Y-you don't believe her, right?”

“Hon, I may have a few years on me, but I'm not senile. Of course not.” She leaned on the counter, resting the small of her back against the edge. “I believe that she believes, though.”

“Oh, well, if she believes, it's all go—no,” he said, quickly shaking his head. He put the cups on a nearby towel and wiped his ebony hands onto the tail of his shirt. Sherri rolled her eyes at the action—Logan used to do the same thing, and she'd get so mad at him when she did laundry. “Mom, she needs help.”

“And we're giving it to her.”

“No. I'm talking, like, hospital help or something. You know what I mean.”

Sherri nodded, a distant expression on her face. “I do.” She looked at her hands. “But we can't do that, Marty.”

“I-I-It's like everything I'm saying is just going right through.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Why aren't we?”

“There would be fallout, for one.” She sighed. “Like you and Mr. West said: profits have been slim. Can you imagine the scandal it would cause if someone from our home, even a stranger, got sent to a sanatorium?”

He gave a small tilt of his head. “I didn't think those still existed.”

“Well, not in the traditional sense, obviously. But do you understand what I mean?”

He nervously crossed his arms, tapping a shoe against the tiled flooring. “So we're just keeping her here indefinitely?”

“Now, did I say that either, hon?” She rose off of the countertop. “We just give her a bit of time. I've got a theory.”

“Oh, a theory. Great.” He looked away briefly, rubbing his mouth, then glanced at her. “What? That she's got fake memories or somethin'?”

“Something like that. A repressed memory, maybe.”

“Are you serious?” he loudly asked. “That's a load of Goddamned bullshit!”

“Swear.”

“Sorry,” He put his hands in his pockets. “But come on! That's the kind of crap you hear about in trashy books and movies.”

“And you hear about nude women falling from the sky on a daily basis as well,” she countered.

He sighed, but said nothing, looking at her with his brown eyes.

“I sincerely believe that the woman had something traumatic happen to her, be it a kidnapping, or, God forbid, a rape. Odds are she fell off of the freeway and is simply creating this situation in her mind to hide from it.”

“...I still say we should take her some place.”

“Again, we can't risk the scandal. At least not right after Logan...” she trailed off, swallowing. These kind of things just had to happen all at once. “Besides, if we take care of her and just talk it out, I'm sure she'll eventually come around.”

“We need someone with expertise on that sort of stuff. We can't just expect her to come around.”

“It worked for you.”

Marty paused, wincing slightly. He had always been a bit rough around the edges, but back when he was twelve? He was a hair shy of juvy. Thefts, robberies, even sent a grown man to the hospital once—son of a bitch had tried to steal his shoes when he was sleeping on a porch-step. That changed when he had trespassed on Sherri and Logan's property and tried to steal some jewelry. They had caught him, and instead of contacting the police, Logan made him work off his debt.

It took a bit, but eventually, they got close.

Sherri quickly corrected herself, “You know I don't mean that hatefully, dear.”

“I know, I know.” He smiled wryly. “I was one hell of a punk, though.”

“And if we had went to the proper authorities back then, who knows what would of happened?” She frowned. “I think Logan would have done it this way too.”

“Just...” He put his fingertips to a temple. “If it seems like she's not making any recovery in, I dunno, a month or something. We gonna kick her out then?”

“It wouldn't be 'kicking out.' We would just make sure she gets taken care of by better hands than ours. As for a time limit, I suppose that should be for the best. The poor girl couldn't live here forever.”

“Then we're agreeing? One month, and if she isn't better by then...” He thrust his thumb towards the front door.

“Yes,” she agreed. “And we'll keep an eye open for missing people reports. Maybe we can wash our hands of this early.”

“I'll check every day.”

“Mmm.” Sherri briefly rubbed the pendent she wore. “I suppose I should check up on our guest. I'd say she's dressed by now.”

She left the kitchen, then went and climbed up the stairs. After a few steps down the hallway, she came to the guest bedroom and knocked on the door. “Applejack? I'm coming in.”

Sherri opened the door to find the blond all but scowling in a long skirt with no top on, a bra hanging by her wrist and the button-up shirt Sherri had provided laying in a heap on the floor.

“How in tarnation do ya work this thing?!” AJ loudly snapped, grabbing the bra and shaking it in her clenched fist. Sherri let an unrefined guffaw out.

“Come on, I'll help.” She took the piece of clothing and went around Applejack's back. The former farmpony turned to watch her; Sherri put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her forward again, then grabbed one arm, putting it through the shoulder straps, then the other. “It's not that difficult—just have a few latches near your back.”

“Kinda hard when ya can't see 'em,” AJ replied. “Ain't even like I'm used ta these finga—fingers,” she corrected herself. “An' how in the heck ya supposed ta do that behind yerself?”

“Have you really never wore a bra before?” Sherri dubiously asked, moving Applejack's hair to the side and quickly latching the object shut. Wasn't like the girl was 'small' by any means—this sort of thing should be second nature to her by now.

“Ain't like I had these things when I was a pony,” she said,  lifting up her breasts and letting them drop. “Things are jus' gonna get in the way of workin'.”

Sherri rolled her eyes at the pony talk, but said nothing. An idea came to her. “Speaking of working, how much do you know about farming?”

“Apples ta Zucchini—not ta boast or nothin', ma'am.”

She laughed. “Well, I might have a bit of a job for you. I have a greenhouse nearby—“

Behind the house, near where they store casks, AJ remembered, feeling an odd sense of free-falling for a moment. How this creature who was and wasn't Cherry Jubilee was here, talking to her. The idea just seemed so... otherworldly. Then again, she was in another world, so it made sense, in a strange, backwards way.

She continued to speak, Applejack nodding where it seemed appropriate—years of listening to Rarity prattle on and on about something not even worth a second of her time had finally paid off. Cherry—

Sherri, AJ reminded herself.

Sherri picked up the shirt the farmpony had thrown in frustration and brought it over to AJ, walking lightly in the long, well-made dress she wore.

“...So after dinner you should get some rest, tomorrow we're going to work you up a sweat,” she finished with a small, weak smile and a wink.

“Ya can count on me ta make sure things get done in there,” AJ agreed, meeting the other's eyes.

“That's my kind of woman,” Sherri said, reaching for the doorknob. “After an hour or so, I'd be happy to show you around, by the way.”

Don't need it.

“Tah-tah, hon. I'll have your dinner brought to you by one of the workers, now that you're decent.” Sherri shut the door behind her as she left. 

AJ tossed her body onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

“So that's what I am? I'm a 'woman.'” She put her hands behind her head, enjoying the feel of her mane against the sensitive digits. With that thought in mind, and a brief, punch-in-her-gut longing for her friends back in Ponyville, Applejack fell asleep, skipping dinner and not moving until well after the rooster crowed.
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Applejack woke up to the sound of clatter coming from downstairs. Dishes clinking, talking, hoofsteps.

Late breakfast? she thought, rubbing her face with a hoof and wondering what Granny had cookin' today. Hopefully apple pancakes. AJ felt like she hadn't ate 'em in—

She woke up further, remembering mutely that that her hoof was a hand, and it sure as sugar wasn't her granny doin' any cooking. AJ shook her head, rising. She put her hands near her kidneys and leaned back, popping her spine, then felt a familiar pressure at her lower stomach.

Guess women need ta pass water like ponies, she thought. Guess it makes sense—ain't like they don't eat, Sherri was talkin' 'bout food fer a bit there 'fore I conked out.

AJ stumbled forward as she took a cautious step. She leaned heavily on the wall, making sure to keep her balance and grow a hair more comfortable in her new body. Making it to the door, she bent down towards the knob and opened her jaw, then paused. Instead, she extended her hand and clasped it over the metal, once more shocked at the strange, cool and smooth texture her fingertips spoke of. She turned the handle and went through, taking a few more cautious steps into the hallway. The voices became less muted and more pronounced. At least three lower, baritones—

What do they call stallions? Notwoman? O-or is 'woman' what ya call the species—like we call ourselves ponies? Jack bit at her lip in frustration—leave it up to her of all the ponies she knew to have to deal with this kinda stuff. Anyone else, even RD, would probably have half these damn terminologies figured out by now.

Regardless, the notwomen continued to speak to one another, alongside a voice of a slightly higher, but still masculine pitch—an older colt?

Then she heard Sherri's voice; reserved, thoughtful and keen, her words unintelligible, but her tone sounding motherly.

Well, she is their matriarch. Kinda makes sense. Jack rolled her eyes at her own thoughts, then used the guardrail to slowly guide her way through the halls, dead-set on finding a bathroom.

As she slowly made her way on her unsteady hind-legs, her thoughts crept back to Rainbow Dash, from there, to Twilight. Where was that girl? Sure, AJ told Sherri she wasn't sure when Twilight Sparkle'd show up, but she didn't think it'd be real long. To be honest, she wasn't expecting to be here even an hour, let alone a day. What was the holdup?

Was she too far away or something? Was her situation so different from normal that Twilight couldn't sense her or something?

If that was the case... would she ever see her friends and family again?

Stop.

She caught sight of an open door on her left. Inside, tile and a porcelain toilet. Doing her best to ignore her thoughts, she rose off the banister and took a few clumsy steps forward, throwing her arms out like a trapeze artist. The farmer shut the door behind her and took a heavy, shuddering breath.

No. Stop.

She wiped hard at her eyes with the the sleeve of her shirt. Crying wasn't going to help. Even with that in mind, it took all of the power in the world to fight back at how scared she was right now. She went on autopiliot, lifting her skirt and dropping her underwear as she sat, a small part thankful that this body's mareparts and her own were fairly close to a match. Celestia knows she didn't need anything else to go wrong.

AJ thought long and hard for a few moments. If... if this was it, if she wasn't getting back home, she had regrets. She coulda been a better sister to Mac. She took advantage of his easy nature sometimes. She coulda showed Applebloom more about the farm—if she wasn't making it back, Applebloom had some big horseshoes to fill.

Coulda listened to her granny more—taken care of her better.

She coulda been a better friend.

Coulda tried to stop and smell the flowers more instead of just working the job.

Coulda, coulda, coulda.

She bit her hand hard to stop the tears from falling. She wasn't Rarity. She wasn't gonna cry. She wasn't. AJ held back a sob as small pinpricks of blood ran down her mouth, acutely aware at how much it hurt.

It took strength far beyond what she thought she had, but she finally calmed down and rose, stepping back outside, her movements slightly more competent as she slowly grew used to her body. The only thing she could do now was hope. Hope that Twilight'd find her and hope that she'd be able to make things right.

Applejack made her way downstairs and was nearly blown away by the smells of cooking. A scent of sweetness from pancakes, buttery biscuits, and an odd, savory, almost bitter scent she had never smelled before. It was hearty, and, though Jack couldn't put it to words, smelled more delicious than anything she had ever smelled before—her mouth was salivating hard enough that she had to swallow twice as she went from the lobby and into the kitchen, where Sherri and several notwoman cleaned. The woman looked up, noticing AJ.

“Sorry, you just missed breakfast, hon. Got some leftovers I can warm up in a jiffy, though.”

AJ glanced over the kitchen, before her sights settled on an old friend in a large bowl on a nearby counter. The former farmpony quickly yanked an apple from the bowl and gave it a quick cleaning rub on her clothes before biting into it. She nearly buckled over in surprise. Nothing in her life had ever tasted as good as this single, solitary apple. It was only after AJ felt the eyes of the older woman on her that Applejack even took a moment from ravenously tearing into her meal to speak.  “Nah, I'm good. Thanks, Cherry.”

“Sherri,” she corrected.

“Thorry,” Applejack replied, her cheeks pouched out from the improvised breakfast. She swallowed hard, then quickly spoke before she had second guesses on eating breakfast. “Reckon I'll get ta work—ain't like what yer wantin' me ta do in the greenhouse is gonna get done with me jus' standin' here.”

“True.” She glanced over at one of the notwoman in the room. “Hans,” she addressed. The oldest glanced up, his lined face caked with experience.

“Yes ma'am?” he addressed.

“Go with Jack.”

He nodded, folding the towel he was wiping down the kitchen with and tossing it onto the counter. “Yes ma'am.”

They left the house; like AJ remembered from her Cherry's farm, the greenhouse was near the wine cellar. She entered and was briefly stunned.

Weeds flooded the area, choking what little produce still lived in here. Thorny bushels, poison ivy, thick crabgrass, even bindweeds climbing up the wooden support beams and nearly touching the rafters.

“Horsefeathers,” Applejack swore under her breath. “What happened here?”

“Neglect,” Hans stated, giving an appraising look at the disaster. “After Sherri's husband got sick, poor girl just didn't have the heart to work it, and us menfolk didn't have the time, with all that needs done around here.” He sighed, taking a few steps on the hard packed dirt and grabbing a pair of worn and rusty shears, looking them over as he continued talking. “You came at an odd time, miss.”

“That so?” AJ asked, catching when he said 'menfolk.' One question answered, at least.

“Things have been hard on us. Hard on Miss Jubilee even moreso. She keeps how she's feeling under lock and key, but...” He opened and shut the shears a few times, working the stiffness out of its joints. “I can tell she's hurting. You don't get my age without learning how people really feel inside.”

“Her husband... was he a good menfolk?” AJ asked, deciding to work on cleaning up the briar patch farther back.

Hans tilted his head slightly at her odd usage of the word, but nodded. “A good man and a good friend of mine. Had a damn keen business sense too.”

Applejack nodded, grabbing the thorny branches with her bare hands and pulling them out by the base. She tossed them towards the center as Hans paused.

“Miss, do you need some gloves for that?”

AJ shook her head, keeping on with her work. “Why would I? Ain't like this is messy.”

“Well, no,” he agreed. “But I'm just surprised one of 'em hasn't bit you yet.”

“Bite me?” the former farmpony replied, cautiously staring at the plants. “Didn't know these things had mouths.” Everfree had nothing on this place, apparently.

He chuckled, going to work on clearing the left side of the room with the shears as AJ wrapped her hands around the plants and once more pulled them out by the roots.

“So, Sherri said you were a farmer.”

“Eyup. Born an' raised one,” she replied with a small hint of pride, wiping her hands on her pants.

“It's honest living,” Hans commented.

“Honest livin' is kind of my thing,” Applejack replied, not even sparing a glance away from her work. She briefly stopped. Something felt off with the plants here. Shutting her eyes she paused, listening intently. “There's somethin' in these weeds.”

The old man glanced over. “A snake?” he asked. “Should I get my gun?”

Gun? “Nah. Ain't a snake... there's a blueberry bush here.”

“Oh?” He walked towards the farmer and scratched at his silvery hair. “Miss, I can't see anything in there.”

“It's there. I can feel it.”

“Feel it?” he repeated. “I'm not sure how—“

AJ tore into the brush, digging through the thorns like a dog pawing through dirt.

“Ma'am!” Hans exclaimed, grabbing a wrist. “You'll hurt...” He stared hard at her hand, a hand not even slightly scuffed despite what she was doing. “...Yourself.” Reaching forward, he trailed a shaking finger over her palm. “Your hands are like leather,” he stated.

“Knock it off,” she said, pulling her hand back and scratching at where he touched. “Darn thing's kinda sensitive.”

“Sensitive?” He shook his head. “Compared to what? A hoof?”

Applejack blinked. “Uh, yeah, actually. Sherri not say anything?”

“Only that you had something traumatic happen, and we were to assist you in any way we could.”

AJ gave an unsure glance at the thorns, then nodded. “I-I gotcha.” She turned back to her work. She probably told 'em I was a lil' crazy too, Applejack thought with a scowl. She pulled a few more thorny weeds out of the way, then nodded. “Take a gander.”

Hans moved past her and squatted down, staring through the weeds. Sure enough, there was a small, nearly dead bushel of blueberries struggling to survive in the choking grasp of the weeds.  “You're right,” he marveled, then glanced towards her. “How'd you...?”

“Told ya. I felt it.”

“I'm sure Missus Sherri'd love to see this. Would you clear it out a bit while I grab her?”

“Eyup,” AJ agreed, once more pawing at the weeds around the plant. Hans quickly turned about-face and left, leaving the farmer to her thoughts.

He dang near seemed like he saw a ghost. She threw a few more weeds to the side, then glanced down at her hand. It seemed odd to her that he'd react like her digits were real tough. She knew for a fact they weren't like this when they were hooves. She could feel every bump and flex of them, could almost feel the stuffy greenhouse air resting heavily on them. In a way, they were kinda neat.

Footsteps drew here away from her thoughts. Sherri stepped into the greenhouse.

“Hans said you had something to show me?”

AJ nodded, moving to the side. “I ain't sure what the deal is. Jus' a nice surprise.”

The woman paused, her hands tightly hugging the hem of her skirt. “Those are...”

“Blueberries.” She pushed her stetson back, pausing on seeing how wracked with pain Sherri's face became. “Uh... ya alright, sugarcube?”

“T-those were Logan's...” She breathed out. “He used to love anything I made with blueberries. Pies, muffins, cobbler. Seeing one here, hidden away like it is—it's a sign that's he's watching out for me still.” She weakly smiled. “Sorry, hon. I'm sure you don't want to listen to a woman like me talking like that.”

“Nah. I hear ya.” Applejack tilted her head to the side, putting a thumb to her chin. “I lost my ma and pa when I was a youngin', but there's still stuff I see on occasion ta make me think they ain't gone.”

She nodded at the blonde's words and moved over, looking at the berries. “Shame they're on their last legs, though.”

“What ya mean?” AJ questioned, bending down herself to get a closer look. Sherri pointed at some brown discoloration on the leaves.

“It's dying, Jack.”

“It ain't dead yet,” Applejack argued. “It's still got some fight in it.”

“I don't think so, hon.” She plucked a healthy looking berry from the bush and handed it to AJ. “But it's still got a bit of good left in it. You just need to enjoy it while it lasts.” She plucked another berry and stuck it into her own mouth, giving a small, contemplative glance upwards as she chewed. Applejack looked over the fruit, then stuck it into her mouth, nearly doubling over at its exquisite, divine taste. It was like everything in this world had its flavor cranked up to eleven. She wasn't sure if she could even handle sweets with this mouth, if simple apples and berries did this to her.

“I ain't ready ta jus' let it die. Ya gotta give it a chance.”

“You're a farmer. You know sometimes you got to let these things go.” Sherri reached up and put her hand on Applejack's shoulder. “I suppose I need to return to my own work, hon. Thank you for showing me this.”

She walked off, leaving the former farmpony to scratch her head and glance at the bush.

“I don't care what she says. I'mma make this work.” She squatted low, patting the plant like it was a friendly dog. “An' yer gonna help me, ain't that right, Danny?” With a pause, she reached and plucked a few more berries. “Yer pretty good at makin' these, by the way.”


> Winter's End
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The train ride dragged on forever; Twilight paced across the carpeted floor, only sparing a slight glance outside at the passing countryside on occasion.

“I must say, darling,” Rarity began, looking over the paper she was currently engrossed in. “You'll ruin the carpet if you keep walking like that.”

“How are you keeping calm?” Twilight asked, gesturing with her hooves. “For all we know, Applejack could be really hurt!”

Rarity rolled her eyes and returned back to the paper. “If you don't know by now, she's like a cockroach—the good qualities, I mean. Out of all of us, do you really think she's going to have trouble 'roughing it out,' if you will?”

“Yeah,” Dash agreed, shaking her back leg up and down as she sat on a chair. “You ever been on a camping trip with her? Didn't even bring a blanket.”

“Hardcore,” Pinkie nodded solemnly from behind Dash's seat, leaning over the back.

“Totally.”

“That doesn't change the fact that she's out there, somewhere, and we don't know where,” Twilight replied.

Discord rolled his eyes, leaning against the rear of the train. “Oh relax. We've already said that she's alive and no worse for wear—how hard can it be turning this into a hunt?”

“It's not a matter of how hard it is, rather, it's a matter of how long it will take.” Twilight shook her head. “Even with assistance, I have no rough estimate on how long it will take to figure out where Applejack currently is, let alone extract her...” 

“We at least should talk to Princess Celestia about it first, before we give up,” Fluttershy said in a half-mumble, pawing with her hoof at the floor.

“I won't give up,” Twilight adamantly said.

“That's the spirit!” Discord exclaimed, clapping. He glanced at the others. “That's how you do the whole 'encourage assertive thinking bit,' right?”


000


AJ had just finished clearing out the weeds in the greenhouse when she heard the loud chime of a triangle go off from near the house. A voice called out from across the fields: “Soup's on, everyone!”

Cherry. Or, rather, Sherri.

Applejack felt a stinging pain in her gut at the words—that should be her granny saying that, calling her and Macintosh in from the fields, not...

“'Everyone' sounds stupid too,” she grumbled, kicking the cold, snow-coated ground and heading towards the house. She entered through the front doors, rubbing at her digits to shake off the cold.

These front hooves really need more insulation or somethin'. 

AJ heard the sound of dozens of voices laughing and chatting away inside the kitchen. Taking in a breath, the former farmpony entered. Everyone was surrounding a long table, where two large pots containing sort of thick, brown stew loaded with, rice, celery and a bits of a brown, crumbly thing that bobbed to the surface, alongside a large bowl of potato salad. She sniffed the air and immediately began salivating, her stomach growling in near agony at the aroma of bell-peppers and a thick, savory odor similar to what she had smelled earlier in the morning. 

“You gonna keep staring, or are you gonna pull up a seat, Applejack?” Sherri asked from the head of the table, smiling kindly at the girl. She tapped an empty chair next to her; a younger man rolled his eyes at the action and impatiently tapped his spoon against his empty bowl.

AJ quickly moved to the seat and sat down. “Smells great,” she commented.

“I'd hope so,” Sherri chuckled. “Took a while to get the gumbo just right—the roux seemed a bit elusive today.”

“'Roux?'” Jack pondered. “That some kinda mushroom?”

The woman laughed heartily. “No, hon. It just helps thicken soups and the like.”

“Huh. Alright.” She leaned forward, filling up her bowl from the pot as others did the same. She dipped her spoon carefully into the bowl, clutching it tightly in her hand. After a moment, she got a spoonful and brought it to her mouth, her clenched fist holding the spoon in a deathgrip.

Her eyes widened at the taste—she nearly gasped at its powerful, overwhelming flavor. Applejack chewed thoughtfully at the crumbly textured items in the food—her jaw tingled and she held back a gasp, nearly buckling at the flavor of the food, full of spices and aromas and texture. She had one brief moment of control when she took the spoon out of her mouth and carefully put it to the side, then lifted the bowl with her new digits, nearly oblivious to the heat, and tilted the thing back, downing the food and having her tongue whip wildly in her mouth, trying to absorb every drop of the new taste she discovered, tried to run her tongue over every new feel of the ingredients entering her mouth and down her stomach. She paused only when she ate her entire serving and took a breath, heat radiating throughout her entire body from the stew. She glanced around at the others. Sherri stared back at her, her eyes wide. The younger man next to her was frozen, his spoon midway to his mouth and dribbling back into the bowl. The rest of the farmhands stared on. Finally, Sherri offered a small smile.

“Hungry, hon?” Sherri asked in a teasing tone. She rose from her chair and trotted to Applejack, reaching over the farmpony's shoulder. AJ briefly glanced at the woman as she reached forward, getting a ladle and swirling it around in the pot of stew, before bringing it to the blonde's bowl, refilling it. The farmpony's eyes gazed at the two udders on Sherri's chest—a small voice compared hers to the older woman's larger set. An even smaller voice told her to stop staring and get back to her meal. 

“T-thanks,” AJ stammered out, looking down at her bowl.

“You're a guest, only right for the host to get up and serve her.”

Applejack wasted no time downing the second bowl—she lifted it once more to her lips and drank its sweet nectarine, chewing only when required as her host stood next to her, unmoved from her spot.

Good! A primal, instinctive voice in her head shouted, drumming away her thoughts. Good! She brought her bowl down once again and ran a hand over her mouth. Sherri blinked at the food's vanishing act.

“Gracious. I can't say I've ever seen the boys eat with this kind of vigor,” she commented, the ladle still in her hands.

“This is the best thing I've ever ate,” AJ earnestly said as Sherri gave her another portion.

“It's just sausage gumbo—I'm glad you like it, though. Odds are we'll be having the leftovers for dinner.”

“Yeah,” the younger boy said, resting his head in an arm and casually eating at the gumbo. “As long as our 'guest' doesn't eat us out of house and home...”

“Come on, Marty,” Sherri scolded. “I bet it's been ages since this girl's ate a good home cooked meal.” She glanced over at AJ. “Ain't that right?”

“It sure feels like it, anyway,” she agreed, wolfing down another bowl in seconds. AJ paused, taking a moment to catch her breath.

“Want more before I sit back down?”

“No, ma'am. There's no way I could ta—“ Applejack paused, an embarrassed flush on her cheeks. “Alright, jus' one more bowl, 'tho.”

Like clockwork, Sherri filled up AJ's bowl; Applejack wolfed it down without a seconds thought. Marty ran a hand through his short curly hair.

“Where does it all go?!” 


000


“...And that's why, with your permission, Princess, we'd like to request full authorization to use  the astrology room,” Twilight concluded, shifting on her hooves a bit as she stared up at the Goddess of the sun. Celestia offered a small glance from her throne Twilight's way, her pastel-colored mane dancing gently in an unfelt breeze.

“And are you sure Discord's actions were a mistake?” she asked. Discord stepped forward from the rest of the group, waving his hands dismissively.

“I've been a good boy, Celestia. Not even a bit of trouble after Fluttershy took me in.”

“He's right,” Twilight agreed, nodding. He's shown remarkable restraint in his actions.”

“I trust you, my student,” the Princess nodded. She gestured with her hoof towards one of the large windows inside the throne room. “You have my express permission to use the observatory as you see fit. When Luna wakes up, I'll have her meet you there—her area of expertise, after all.”

“Thank you, Princess.” Twilight deeply bowed, as did the rest of her friends. Discord crossed his arms and tilted his head.

“You really need all these formalities?” he dryly questioned. Celestia offered a sly smile in response, before returning her attention to the young alicorn before her.

“Twilight Sparkle, my student, find your friend. Bring Applejack back to us.”

“We're on the case, Princess,” Rainbow Dash stated, flapping up a few feet into the air and giving a smart salute her way. ”That girl better enjoy her vacation, 'cause she's got work to do when she gets back.”

“Totally!” Pinkie agreed. She put a hoof to her chin. “I hope she got sent to an ice-cream planet—a vacation without ice cream isn't a vacation at all.” Pinkie gave a pleading look over towards Twilight. “Can we get some ice cream delivered to the observatory?!”

“Pinkie, this is serious!” Twilight replied.

“Serious enough for ice cream?” she asked, grinning and blinking innocently.

Discord walked over to the pink party pony and reached behind her ear. After a few muttered complaints, he pulled out an ice cream cone with a hearty scoop of vanilla on top. Pinkie stared at it, then at him. He stuck the cone into a pocket that briefly appeared at his side and reached once more behind her ear, producing an ice cream cone with two scoops, one chocolate, one vanilla.

“Thanks!” She giggled, taking the cone, throwing it into her mouth and swallowing it in one fluid motion.

“Come on, girls!” Twilight commanded, standing proud with her wings spread out. “Let's rescue Applejack!” 

They quickly trotted off though the two grand doors of the throne room, leaving Discord staring awkwardly at Celestia.

“I think they wanted you to go too,” Celestia said.

“Then she'd say 'everyone,'” he curtly replied back. “I'd even settle for 'everypony' at this point.”

Twilight Sparkle poked her head through the doorway. “Come on, you too.”

“Told you she'd come back for me,” Discord promptly said to Celestia. “And you said she wasn't gonna come back.”

Celestia tilted her head. “Discord, I never sai—“

“Ta-ta my dear! Duty calls!” He blew a kiss towards the Princess and waved a handkerchief in her direction as he walked out the front. Celestia gave a good natured huff at the chaos-god's antics and trotted to the window.

“Twilight, I only hope you can find her,” she concluded.


000


After the meal, Applejack sprung back outside, following after Hans as he made his way towards the farm's back acres. AJ whistled, glancing at the area around them.

“You seem to have a spring in your step,” he commented.

The former farmpony shook her head. “I ain't sure what it is, Hans, but I feel like I got jus' this burst of energy in me.” She patted her stomach. “Felt it right after that meal—I tell ya, that was some good grub.”

“I'd hope so,” he replied, laughing. “Eating six bowls of subpar stuff just wouldn't sit right.”

She paused, then let out a small chuckle. “I got that joke.”

It took them some time to get to the far back lots, where a massive concrete structure with a flat top loomed over dozens of broken fenceposts sitting in the fields. Jack stared up at the structure, listening to the odd, foreign noise coming from the top of it. A kind of hum some of the machinery she had  seen being introduced to Equestria in the last few years, is what it reminded her of. On occasion, something similar to a carriage would blaze by at an impossible speed—one far faster than she had ever seen a pony pull a wagon.

“Do you see something on the overpass?”

Overpass? She questioned in her thoughts. “Uh, well...”

“Was hoping it might of jogged your memory a bit.”

AJ shrugged. “Like I told Sherri, I jus' remember wakin' up in a bed.” More or less...

Hans nodded. “Alright, alright. I understand.” He gestured to a nearby pile of steel fenceposts. “Now, help me move these, we gotta repair this fence line.”

Jack nodded, grabbing one and throwing it on her shoulder as Hans took two, one in each hand.

The farmpony frowned, confused. The thing was light. She felt stronger than she ever had as a pony right now. With that in mind she grabbed another, and another, eventually holding a good dozen  on her shoulders. AJ took them over as Hans reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of bolt cutters and knelt down by the fence.

“I guess we'll start here. I got another pair of cutters in a bucket with some scrap wire. We'll get those other posts pulled then—“ he paused, glancing away from his work. “Ms. Jack, are you—“ His mouth dropped.

Applejack tossed the posts next to the two by Hans' feet, the bunch landing to the ground with a loud, metallic clang.

On seeing Hans' expression she cocked her head. “What? We need more or somethin'?”

“Ms. Do you realize how much... That is, I mean,” he stammered out.

“Ya mean what?”

“That was quite a handful for a lady such as yourself, is all.”

“I ain't much of a lady, Hans,” she replied, looking over the ruined fence. “Now I reckon we should get ta workin' on here.” She looked around, spotting a large red bucket next to his feet. She grabbed some wire from it and stuffed it into her shirt's breast pocket.

The plus 'bout wearin' clothes, I guess.

In addition, she also grabbed the bolt cutters and moved back to the opposite end of the fence. Out of habit she took the cutters and moved them towards her mouth, pausing when her jaw wouldn't accommodate the tool's rubber handles.

Hands, ya dummy.

She took her hands against the tool and flexed it, opening and shutting it experimentally. Once she made it a habit, she quickly ran over the bent and twisted fence posts, snapping the wire securing the line in place.

“What the hay happened here anyway?” Jack asked.

“Tractor ran 'em over.” Hans stood and moved over to another fence post.

She wasn't sure if she had met this 'Tractor.' The name didn't ring any bells. But, gosh, he must have been a big fella for that to happen.

“Why didn't ya ask him ta stop?” she continued, clearing the wire off the fourth set of fence posts as Hans finished his second.

He glanced over to her. “One of the gears slipped when Marty was driving. Didn't have much of a choice.”

Gears? Jack thought, the word foreign until a thought dawned on her. Gears! Like a pocketwatch or somethin'! Her thoughts turned farther down the sentence. As fer drivin'... some sorta carriage—maybe like those Flamey Flim brothers had that one time.

She moved back to the previous fence posts she had stripped and stood between them. With a small grunt, she hoisted them free of the frozen earth, one in each hand. She tossed them to the side and did the same for the other pair as Hans finished stripping his third. He spared a glance her way and paused yet again.

“You're already that far along?”

“Eyup.”

Hans let out a small chuckle. “Maybe I should have ate more lunch, it might of given me the same sort of energy you have.”

“No kiddin'. I ain't had this sorta strength in me since—

—Ever—

—Fer a long time.” She grabbed the new fence post and put it nearby the hole she had made with the other. After aligning it up with the fence, AJ glanced over to Hans, who rose from his own work to look at her.

“Oh, I forgot the driver back at the house. Let me go get it.” He brushed off his knees and slowly ambled towards the house.

“I got it,” AJ replied, grasping the fence post in both her hands and thrusting it down deep into the frozen earth. She gave it a small experimental wiggle and nodded at its stiffness.

“How in the...?” Hans trailed off, glancing at the post, then at Applejack. “Ms. Applejack, how are you punching through the ground that easy?”

She frowned, looking down at her arms. “That not normal, Hans?”

“Well, I wouldn't call it 'freakish,' by any means. You're just stronger than you look.”

Applejack turned back to her work without a word, ramming another fence post into the ground as a cold wind blew across the dead fields.


000


The astronomer's tower was an elegant creature, tall and rounded, standing proudly nearby the castle. Its pure-white design sang to the group of ponies and to a lesser extent, a draconequus.

“...I'm just saying it could be spruced up with a plant or something,” he offered as they climbed up the stairs leading to the main door. Pinkie Pie hummed, giving a long, deliberating tap of a hoof to her chin.

“Weeeelllll....” she considered. “Maybe some brown leaves at the top.”

“Brown?” Rarity replied from the front, jerking her head towards the two. Her eyes widened. “Do you have any idea of how ungraceful it would make these stairs appear?” Color mixing like that would be the worst. Possible—“

“—Alright, alright. Enough of that,” Twilight dismissed. “We're going to need to concentrate to save Applejack, so let's not burst into dramatics.”

“Can we burst into song instead?!” Pinkie chirped, zipping forward to Twilight and pressing her wide, grinning face against the unicorn's.

“No, Pinkie.”

“Fooey,” she spat, crossing her forelegs under her shoulders and pouting.

The group entered, nodding in acknowledgment at the few workers reading over clipboards and star-charts. They went further into the room, going through a door and up another small flight of stairs before standing before a massive telescope pointing up through a hole in the ceiling. Luna stood before it, yawning.

“Hail to thee, Twilight Sparkle, her companions.” Her expression hardened slightly. “Discord.”

“And a 'Hail Mary' to you too, sweet thing,” Discord replied, blowing a kiss towards her. A small levitating heart slowly approached her, she glared, snapping it away with a brush of her wings. It hit the wall with a small splat.

“I'm surprised you're up this early,” Twilight quickly said before anything could escalate.

“'Tis not a time for slumber during a crisis. The righteous Element of Harmony, Applejack of the Apple clan, has been taken away by a creature with malicious intent!”

“For the last time, it was an accident!” Discord said, irritation in his voice.

“We are aware of thine tricks and lies, god of mischief. 'Tis folly to led mine guard down.”

“Guys!” Twilight called out, placing herself between the two. “Please. Applejack's out there and she needs our help! If you both are going to bicker like this, I'll search for her myself!”

“...Very well,” Luna replied, trotting towards the telescope. Her horn briefly lit up, and the massive telescope beside her became enveloped in her magic.

“The bewitching I cast upon the scope shall provide us with alacrity in regards to thine friends whereabouts.”

“How so?” Twilight asked, tilting her head as she gave an in-depth study of the machine, running a hoof over the metal shaft, then moving towards the eyepiece, looking through it as Luna talked.

“Mine domain watches over the dreams of everypony in our kingdom, young Twilight,” she said. Despite the sunny sky overhead, Twilight observed a sea of stars washed in a nearly translucent orange aura that rolled off the distant stars laconically, as if a hoof was raised in a slow waving greeting.

“As such, We are able to detect the more subtle feelings and emotions coming from ponies. 'Tis indeed a powerful gift, one we can use now.” She gazed up at the still bright sky. “Or, depending, We can use the gift when Celestia's sun receives its respite.” Luna announced.

“Anyone understand what she's saying?” Rarity asked through a forced grin.

“N-no...” Fluttershy whispered back, scraping a hoof against the tiled floor. “I was hoping to just ask Twilight after she was done...”

“Hey, uh, Luna?” Rainbow Dash asked, glancing at everypony else. “Care to dumb it down for the jocks?”

Luna scoffed. “The warrior needs to be armed in both body and mind, Rainbow Dash. Thine mind should be as strong as any vestment, as sharp as any mouth-blade.”

“Come on, kid,” Discord said. “Humor her.”

“I am no child, mad-god,” Luna snapped back with a scowl. She frowned, speaking to the group. “We, of this world, stand in the middle of mayhaps billions of worlds. Their gates are all open to us, and if we were to apply the correct amount of magic, any of their doors would open to you.”

“But even with chaos magic, there's only so much you guys can handle,” Discord continued. “As of right now, only about one or two percent of the worlds are explorable, as a pony's body can't adapt to the changes it puts them through.” Discord cocked a smile Twilight's way, pointing at her with his claws. “You know what I'm meaning here. You've been to our closest gate. Remember how your body altered?”

“It was an experience,” the scholarly pony agreed, looking up from her work. “I'll let you know when I decided if it was a good or bad one.”

“Well, that's because that planet had two things. Two requirements for you to even enter a portal:” he stuck out his fingers, gesturing toward Twilight yet again. “One: a dominating species on the planet with sentience. Two, the habitat has to be at least hospitable for ponies. Surprisingly hard to find both.”

“Dude,” Dash said. “How do you know all of this?”

“His punishment was akin to mine,” Luna said quietly, gazing at her hooves. “Conscious. Aware. Physically in bondage, but mentally free.”

“The plus about having magic in that scenario.” Discord smirked. “After I counted every star in the sky, I was able to mentally travel away from my prison. Got to see a few of those portals firsthand.”

“Astral projection?” Twilight hypothesized, making her way back to the group. On seeing Luna's nod she shook her head. “But how? You shouldn't have—“

“We sat atoning in a prison for well beyond your lifetime, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna interrupted. “A prisoner in such a state would bound to become crafty.”

“Fascinating,” she said.

“We're getting off track here!” Pinkie exclaimed. “And not a good way, like being 'off da railz' is either.”

“I cry your pardon, Pinkimena Diane Pie. We shall continue this conversation mayhaps another time.” She turned, putting a hoof on the telescope. “We shall use this to search for thine comrade at once!”

Fluttershy glanced to the opening in the ceiling. “It's awfully bright to be looking for stars,” she commented.

“'Tis an enchantment inside the lens. One I personally crafted.” She began a lecture. “As I mentioned, we stand in the center of the other doors to the worlds. You may consider us an island awash in a sea of stars. Myself find it easier to envision us as upon a boat. To starboard lay worlds that are as we are: daylight. To port are the lands currently in my domain.”

“That's some delightful imagery darling, but perhaps you could explain where, exactly this is heading?” Rarity asked.

“To sum it up succinctly, the spell sorts the worlds in half, the kind currently embracing the day, and the half currently in slumber. With this, we can trace Applejack's aura to one of the two hemispheres and shorten the time it takes individually checking the doors.”

Twilight moved forward, peeking once more into the eye slot. “So. This orange aura I see surrounding the stars. Is that...?”

“Indeed. Thine companion.” She gave a sagely nod. “With this we can deduce that your friend is in-tune with our own system. Meaning our hunts shall take place when she is the closest to the source of mine power: When she embraces her dreams.”

“Guess I'd better get some coffee ready,” Dash grumbled, turning to leave. Rarity quickly took hold of the pegasus' tail with a hoof.

“Cream in mine, dear,” she stated.

“Oh! And a lot of sugar for meee!” Pinkie sang out.

“Instead of coffee, can I have a frappuccino? Helps me focus,” Twilight added, only barely glancing away from the scope.

“We shall consume ours as black as the night sky! Marshmallows shall be our stars!” Luna proclaimed, raising a hoof above her head.

“J-just black's fine Dash, thank you.” Fluttershy smiled.

“I meant I was gonna just get a pot for me...” Dash said, putting a wing to her forehead and rubbing at her temple.


000


Applejack finished fixing up the fence, then took to walking the property line. After patching up another rough point she soon found herself back by the farmhouse just as Sherri came out to the porch. She waved at AJ as she moved to the triangle hanging off the porches ceiling. She took a small metal rod and clanged it against the interior, bringing forth dozens of chimes before she sat it down again and leaned forward on the guard rail.

“Hans told me you did a number on my fence.”

Applejack ran a thumb across her mouth. “Well, I fixed it up, if that's what yer getting at.”

She smiled as AJ climbed up the steps to stand next to her. “He said you picked up what had to of been close to your weight in fence posts.”

“I wouldn't know,” Applejack admitted. “I'm used ta bein' lighter.” Sherri just barely held back a roll of her eyes at the woman's' words.

“Well, either way, you've done good today. Hope you don't mind leftovers.”

“That, uh, gumbo stuff you made?” she asked, her grin widening.

“The same. Land of mercy, I've never seen someone eat as much of that as you did.” Sherri rose, heading into the house as AJ followed suit.

“I wasn't kiddin' when I told ya that was some of the best food I'd ever ate,” Applejack said. “I could eat that jus' 'bout every day.”

“I could get you the recipe if you'd like.”

AJ beamed, her pearly whites a stark contrast to her dark brown skin. “Lay that on me, sugarcube.”

“Well, for about every pot I take about a third a pound of bacon,”

“Uh-huh,” Applejack nodded, the word faint and distant in her thoughts. There was something about that word she recognized. She just couldn't think of what.

Herb? Some kinda spice? Maybe somethin' that's more common over here, she thought.

“Three, four stalks of celery,” Sherri continued, counting on her fingers.

“Alright.”

“And half a pound of sausage. Then a good three, three and a half pounds of chicken—I'll just fill out a card for you.”

Applejack froze. That last ingredient echoing in her mind. That was something she knew instantly.

Sherri noticed her expression. “Gracious, you look like you just saw a ghost.”

“C-chicken,” AJ repeated.

Sherri tilted her head. “Something the matt—“ Jack shot past her, sprinting upstairs.

The woman stared up at the second floor walkway as Jack slammed the bathroom door behind her.

Movement came from the kitchen. Marty popped out the door, wiping his hands with a towel. “Hey, you about ready?”

Sherri shook her head. “Start without me.” Marty narrowed his brow but shrugged, turning and entering the kitchen again. Sherri climbed up the stairs, holding the hem of her dress and lifting it past her ankles to avoid tripping on the thing. She approached the upstairs bathroom and knocked.

“Applejack? You alright in there?”

There was no response. She glanced down at the gap between the door and the floor and noticed that a light wasn't on.

“Applejack?” she called out again, trying the door. It opened without a hitch, sending a streak of light across the darkness of the room. Applejack sat in the far corner, her knees to her chin and staring blankly at the toilet.

“I remembered,” she said. “Bacon's from a pig. Same as sausage. Griffons bought some pigs from us back when I was a tyke. Granny told me what they were used for.”

Sherri said nothing, clearly confused by the word 'griffon,' but not mentioning it, instead  observing the woman.

“I, uh, tried ta puke. Didn't work.” She sniffed.

“What's all this about?” Sherri asked, moving over next to the woman. She slid down the wall, sitting next to her.

“”It's pretty taboo, eatin' meat where I'm from. I mean, there are still like griffons, an', uh, sometimes dragons, but not ponies. T-that's the kinda thing that makes you a social pariah...” She tilted her head back, resting it against the wall. “Know what the worst part is, Sherri?” AJ let a humorous chuckle pass through her. “I liked it. It was the best tastin' stuff I'd ever ate. An' don't get me started on the other side of it. After I ate that stuff, I felt stronger. Quicker. Like a... d-damn predator must feel like.” Applejack choked out a sob, but still managed to keep her composure.

Sherri stared across the room, wrapping her arm around AJ and bringing her head over to her own. Griffons, dragons. It was all so surreal and impossible, yet here the girl was, obviously upset.

“I'm sorry,” she apologized.

“Don't be,” Applejack replied. “I shoulda realized y'all wouldn't eat like a pony does.”

“I can learn some vegetarian meals.”

“Not much point now.” She sighed. “It's like a lot of pets. Once ya give 'em a taste-a blood, that's it. If I saw that gumbo in front of me now, I'd eat at it again, even knowin' what I know.”

“Is there anything I can do for you, hon?” Sherri asked.

She grimly ran a hand down her face. “Jus'... I'd like ta be alone fer a bit. That alright with ya?”

Sherri nodded, rising to a stand. She stared once more at AJ. “I'm sure your friend's gonna come and help you out soon, sug.” With that, she turned and left the room. Applejack listened to her fading footsteps before sighing, shutting her eyes and trying to clear her head.

“I hope so, Sherri.”
	
> Spring
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Applejack blew on her hands and rubbed them vigorously together, appreciating the feel of her thick, leather-like callouses touching. She stood on her two feet, far more deftly than what she had been two month's back, and for a brief moment the mare-woman was struck motionless by the beauty of the spring day and the peace she felt on the farm. It was a familiar peace, nostalgic and warm, a peace that vanished under a sudden, knee-shaking bout of homesickness for her family, her friends, her land.

Scowling at the thoughts ruining her contentment, she dropped down to her hands and lowered her knees a bit, then went through motions that were once more familiar, yet foreign and bizarre to her body. She snapped her leg up and collided her foot with a tree.

It was a solid hit, sending a crack though the tree and making it visibly shudder, scattering leaves, a few weak branches, and her prize, dozens of cherries that rained down into baskets surrounding it. She rose, looking over her handiwork with a nod of satisfaction, squatting down to toss a few stragglers that had landed into the earth beside the baskets, before marching to another tree lined with baskets and doing the action once more.

Sherri watched Applejack from a distance, one arm under her breasts and her other bringing her thumb to her crimson lips. She chewed thoughtfully at a once well-manicured nail as she watched the relative stranger perform. Marty shot a glance to Sherri as they tended to the chickens nearby.

“What happened to just keeping her for a month?” Marty asked, scattering seeds at his feet and then heading to the chicken's nest to gather their eggs.

Sherri gestured to the woman and the baskets lined with fruit, knowing Marty couldn't see her motion, but knowing that he know she was doing them all the same. “That was before. When we thought the girl was just giving a line and story to hide some hurt.”

He laughed, shaking his head in humor. “There's no damn way—“

“Mouth, Marty,” she said instantly, her motherly instincts kicking in with him.

“Sorry,” he said, giving an apologetic tip of the trucker hat he wore, his dry tone pushed back just a hair in respect of the older woman. “But you can't honestly believe all of what she said, right? That's retarded.” He blinked. “Uh, the story is. Not you.”

“I knew what you meant, no need to clarify,” Sherri replied, then nodded to AJ as the blonde gathered four buckets filled to the brim with cherries in each hand and walked off, headed to a truck in the distance. “But can you tell me with a straight face that you have an explanation for her?” Finally freeing her thumb from its prison, she started to count on her fingers, glad in a way to be able to speak up to someone regarding her, the others on the farm not asking any real questions regarding her, just appreciating her hard work and liking the company she gave when she took a little downtime.

“How often do you see a woman looking like that?” Sherri finally asked.

“How should I answer this?” Marty asked. “Because it almost sounds like you're saying she's too hot to be human.”

“Of course not. She's pretty, anyone can see that.”

“I don't see it,” he replied. “Too tall and the muscles are a bit much.”

“Marty,” she flatly said. He gave a little laugh.

“Sorry, sorry. Go on.” His smile made Sherri's own eventually appear and she put a thumb once more to her mouth.

“Well, how to put it... if I had to guess her ethnicity, I'd think Creole, or a mixed child from around here, judging by her dialect close to matching our own.”

“Ok...?” he said, waiting for her to finish.

“How often do you see a black woman with naturally blonde hair?” she bluntly asked, deciding against beating around the bush.

“It doesn't have to be natural,” Marty countered. “Dyes exist. Hell—I mean 'heck,'” he corrected, Sherry nodded her approval, “—I had a phase when I dyed my hair too, remember?”

“I do,” she said.

“So she just got some dye and—“

“Where'd she get the dye?”

He gave an exasperated shrug of his ebony shoulders. “I dunno, ma. The store?”

“She hasn't left the farm this entire time, Marty. And I looked around the house, nothing there.”

“Maybe it's a defect then. Like being an albino.” Marty said, sighing with exasperation.

“How do you explain her outworking even my seasoned vets? Those baskets she just hauled had to of weighed fifty, sixty pounds a piece.”

“She's a big girl, a lot of testosterone in there, there's gotta be an explanation,” he answered, giving a small pace around the chicken lot.

“And that trick she just did with kicking trees. She's clearing things that would take us at least an hour a pop from hand-picking!”

“I don't know, ok?” he snapped, shaking his head. “But do you really think a world with talking horses and magic sounds any better? It's impossible.”

“It sounds impossible, but after all this time she's still asking questions any normal person would know, I just...” Sherri sighed. “There's more to this, I'm sure of it.”

“So what, she's some kind of... alien or something?” He shook his head. “This is crazy.”

“I know,” she agreed. “But she's here now, and it's my responsibility to take care of her until she can...”

“Can what? Go home?” He shook his head. “This isn't a Lifetime movie. If—if,” he empathized. “She's really some sort of... thing beyond our scope, I have doubts she'll make it back. If it would have happened, it would of happened by now, for sure.”

“We don't know that.”

“And we don't know if she's just crazy and you're trying to convince me she's not,” Marty answered.

Applejack approached them, popping her knuckles.

“Howdy, ya two!” she called out. “Need help? I saw ya both jus' sittin' here with the birds and thought ya could use a hoo—“ Catching herself, she paused. “Hand. Could use a hand,” she finished, a little more reserved.

“No, no,” Sherri replied with a dismissive wave. “We were just talking, that's the reason we've been moving slowly. It's actually getting close to lunch time. How about we go and get a bite to eat while you've graced us with your appearance?”

Jack nodded. “I'd like that. So hungry I could eat a whole square bale.”

“Well, I was thinking more along the lines of parmesan chicken, personally,” Sherri said.

“Bird chicken?” AJ asked, her expression faltering.

“Only type of chicken I eat,” Marty chimed in. “What? Do horses not eat chicken?”

The woman glanced away, frowning. “Guess this one does,” she quietly admitted.

Sherri bit at her lip. “We can have a vegetarian meal, if you want.”

“Nah. I...” She swallowed, looking disgusted. “I wanna eat chicken. If it's as good as sausage, bacon, or hamburger.” Shrugging, she added, “It's like my body needs it in me now, ya know?”

“I'm sorry, hon,” Sherri said, looking down at her feet in shame.

“Don't be,” AJ quickly countered. “Ya didn't know. An' it's...” She shook her head, unsure what to add on to it. “Let's jus' get some grub in us.”


000


The thing named Q turned, looking at the bald man as he rested his feet on the bald man's table, in his lap a book.

“...I'm surprised you have to ask, when your human Shakespeare explained it all so well,” Q stated, gesturing down at the book with his palms.

“So he did,” the man replied, giving a cautious rise of his hand as he stood before Q. “But don't depend on any one single—“

“It's a pity you don't know the contents of your own library,” Q said. He glanced down at the book in his hands and drolly raised his own finger up to the ceiling. “Hear this, Picard, and reflect.” He looked distantly to the walls of the bald man’s chambers. “'All the galaxy's a stage.'”

“World, not galaxy,” Picard corrected. “All the world's a stage.”

“Oh, you know that one,” Q replied with disinterest. ”Well, if he were living now, he would of said galaxy.” He had another sudden thought. “How about this, ah, 'Life is but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more.” He gazed sternly to the bald man, looking over his militaristic suit. “It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

Picard let the smallest smirk peek from the corner of his mouth. “I see,” he replied with contempt. “So how we respond to a game tells you more about us than our real life, this,” he gestured to the book at Q's lap, “tale, told by an idiot. Interesting, Q.”

Q perked up a hair and offered a smile. “Oh, thank you very much, I'm glad you enjoyed it.” He raised a palm. “Perhaps maybe a little Hamlet?”

“Oh I know Hamlet,” Picard countered, putting his hands to his hips. “And what he said with irony, I say with conviction: What a piece of work is man.” He leaned forward on the desk resting between them. “How noble in reason. How infinite in faculty. In form, in moving, how express and admirable.” He narrowed his brow. “In action, how like an angel, in apprehension, how like a god!”

Q shot up out of the chair, glaring at Picard in a sort of awe and hatred.

“Surely you don't see your species like that, do you?”

Picard gave a small nod. “I see us one day becoming that, Q.” He stared, unblinking at the entity with the appearance of a man, the smallest smile of contempt at his face once more. “Is it that which concerns you?”

Q said nothing, only scowling and tossing the book at Picard in frustration.

“He reminds me of someone...” AJ said, squinting in thought as she stared at the television screen.

“Picard?” Marty asked, crossing his legs and leaning back in a worn recliner.

“Who?” Applejack questioned.

“Bald guy.”

“Oh. Nah. The other guy.” She scratched her chin and adjusted herself on the couch, glancing across the room to Marty. “So, all ya think like that fella?”

“Depends on the man,” he replied. “I like to think there's some truth to it.”

“Y'all seem like yer fittin' the bill. Heck,” she started, pushing her stetson back, ”Yer kind's done things we're jus' now getting' to, with magic.”

He scoffed at the word 'magic,' but played along. “Alright. I'll bite, what are you talking about, exactly?”

“Medicine. Exceptin' a gal that's a potion-maker, an' unicorn magic, we're jus' now getting decent hospitals. An' cars. Only one I've really seen back home was 'bout as fast as a tractor here.” She gestured to the spaceship on the television. “An' not even Celestia or Luna's been past the moon, an' there ya'll are explorin' space.”

He flatly looked at her. “This isn't a documentary.”

“Oh.” After a beat, she shrugged. “Well, some of yer facts seem more like stories, where I'm from. Like, I remember Sherri mentionin' somethin' 'bout a world war.”

“What, the first one?” he asked.

Her eyes widened. “Y'all had more than one?”

“Two,” Sherri said, appearing in the doorway with three cups filled with iced tea. “And I hope whoever's listening above makes it stay at two.”

The older woman looked between AJ and Marty, before joining the farm woman at the couch.

“Y'all sure seem ta fight a lot,” Applejack commented, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Sometimes you have to fight. Not always, but you can't stand by when things are a problem.”

AJ gave an unsure shake of her head. “If ya talk it out, there usually ain't no need ta—“

“Talk it out with someone like Hitler? Mao? Stalin?” she questioned, shaking her head. “You can't be civil with tyrants. A show of force is the only language they understand.” A small, minute flare of pain crossed Sherri's face. “It's why my Logan served in the Navy. He admitted it was childish, but he truly wanted to protect the nation's ideals.”

“I don't know who those three ya said are, so I reckon I can't argue. An' if yer Navy is like our royal guard, then he did a good thing fer y'all.”

Sherri glanced down at her hand and the ring she still wore, nodding slowly.

Marty spoke up, raising a brow towards Applejack. “You don't know Hitler? I can understand maybe not knowing Mao, but not knowing the Nazi posterboy?”

“Yeah. I'm sorry I ain't been crackin' open yer history books, I guess,” she dryly countered.

“Well... I could teach you a little history, if you like,” Sherri offered.

“I dunno.”

“I have supplies and textbooks. We can start you at fifth-grade American history and expand from there.” She smiled. “How about it? If you're going to be here for a while, you need to know some basic information. People will think you're nuts if you go around saying something that,” she gestured at the television, “is historical fact.”

“I... I don't know why I'm still here,” she admitted, clutching a hand to her knee. “Twi, I thought she coulda found me by now. She's the smartest mare I know, an' if she ain't able ta help...”

Sherri and Marty exchanged glances. After a moment, the woman rested a hand on the back of AJ's own and gently stroked it.

“And if that's the case, you have a place here. With me, Marty, my farmhands.”

AJ took in a shuddering breath. “I didn't get ta say goodbye,” she weakly choked out. “They're...”

“I know, honey, I know,” Sherri said, clasping both her hands onto Applejack's. “It hurts, losing the chance to say goodbye. If my boy or me can do anything...”

After a moment of looking miserable and feeling just as bad, Applejack nodded. “I appreciate it. But I don't know what that anythin' yer offerin' could do.” She rose, looking down at the hands entwining her own and for a brief moment, seemed almost longing, before she pulled her hand away. “If it's alright with ya, I need some time by myself ta think. Ya reckon the rest of the chores'll keep 'til tomorrow?”

“We got along fine before you, honey. You take as much time as you need, ok?”

Applejack turned and left the room. They heard the sound of heavy boots clomping up the stairs, then Sherri brushed a hand down her skirt.

“I don't really know what to make of her,” Marty admitted. “Maybe there is something going on here. I didn't buy it then, but now...” He sucked in a breath. “Though for an alien, she's better looking than E.T.”

“Mmm.” Sherri crossed her legs and stared at Marty. “Do you still visit Randall?”

“Randall?” Marty blinked, not used to Sherri taking an interest in the boys he grew up with before he got taken off the streets. “S-sometimes, yeah.”

“And does he still have that business on the side?”

“Yeah,” Marty freely admitted.

“Tell him I need an ID made in the next few days. I'll provide the photo.”

He raised a brow. “Don't tell me...”

“I want to cheer her up some. And I know exactly how I'd do it.” She nodded, pleased with herself. “We'll make a day out of going around the Big Easy.”