//------------------------------// // 9. Time Off For Bad Behavior // Story: Flim, Flam, and the Little Lost Apple Scam // by Georg //------------------------------// Flim, Flam, and the Little Lost Apple Scam Time Off For Bad Behavior Time galloped forward as it always did on the farm, with the final weeks of apple harvesting winding down. There was a place for everything and everything in its place, all of which needed to be completed before First Snowfall. Having an extra pair of adult ponies around the farm made all the pieces of the yearly struggle fall into place much easier than Applejack expected, except for two problem pieces which stubbornly refused to go anywhere she expected. Problems should have solutions. Apple trees needed bucking, hogs needed slopping, barns needed painting. Apple Sprout had Applejack. The Flim-Flam brothers had… There was something deep in her heart that felt pleasure when Flim and Flam were struggling with putting down numbers on paper that had to match from one page to another. More, when Big Mac would just flip back a sheet or two and point during his weekly audits. That tiny spark of pleasure in her heart almost made up for the pain that Flim showed in the presence of his not-daughter, a mix of sadness and joy while he was spoon feeding her tiny bites of mashed peas and applesauce, to the one time he had read Applejack’s copy of Rooty the Rootabaga to her for bedtime and fairly fled the house afterward while fighting back tears. Sprout seemed to know something was going on with him, and begged to be picked up or played with every time he was in the vicinity, with similarly mixed results of laughter or concealed sniffling. It was not like Applejack wanted the two brothers to be unhappy. Over the weeks that she had gotten to know them, Applejack had come to the realization that the full extent of Flim and Flam’s family was each other. They had no siblings, no parents that they would admit to, nothing but their siblings’ bonds to hold them together and their natural competitiveness to drive them apart. The introduction of Apple Sprout had bonded them in what could have grown into a tiny seed of a real family. Then it had turned out to be a lie from Flim. Finding Marian’s real foal would not undo that breaking of trust. Their little family of two had been three for a few precious weeks, but now had the potential of turning back into their old ways where it was just the two brothers against the world and let the pieces fall where they may. Having them at Sweet Apple Acres was a little like expecting a pear tree to grow apples if it had enough apple trees around it, and bringing Marian’s foal into the mix would just make a bad situation worse. Even if it were possible to find and adopt the second foal, Applejack doubted she was able to care for two newborns after the apple sorter project was complete and the brothers inevitably left. It was nerve-wracking enough to talk with Twilight Sparkle, who was handling all of the paperwork involved in the adoption of Apple Sprout. Her weekly visits to the castle for some tea with the princess and playtime for Sprout and Spike came with gentle reassurement from her friend. Twilight would sip her tea, looking so much like Celestia while saying that everything was going to turn out well, she had a good idea where Marian’s foal was, and she was being well taken care of. Even so, Applejack found herself wishing at times that the unnamed foal would be as elusive and difficult to pin down as her father. Apple Sprout had no such worries. Her graft to the Apple family tree was going quite well, from the way she happily played with Apple Bloom, to the way Granny Smith had adjusted to the occasional floating toy, even to the relaxed fashion she would fall asleep on Big Mac’s broad back like he was some soft, fur-covered mattress. It made Applejack think thoughts she really did not want to, like eventually caving in to her natural maternal nature. It was not too hard to imagine Mommy Applejack going out to find some handsome young stallion of her own in order to help raise Apple Sprout, and after sufficient time together had passed, making baby colts and fillies of their own. Her previous adamant position against becoming a mother was rather moot, after all, and there was nopony she could blame for her change of opinion other than herself. And, of course, once the rodeo circuit started up again, Apple Sprout was going to take some explaining for any evening interactions she had with her fellow rodeo performers. “What happens at the rodeo, stays at the rodeo,” was almost a written rule, but she figured more than one handsome young farmpony would have the bejeebers scared out of them if she introduced them to Sprout with, “Remember last year when we was wrastling in the hayloft…” Actually, that might be fun… Most certainly, the old excuse about having always been too busy around the farm was not going to hold water any more whenever she was pestered about dating by her friends or Granny Smith. Getting serious about her long-term romantic planning was going to take a lot of getting used to if she was not going to be caught unaware. Certainly, it would go better than what happened late one afternoon in the southmost field of the orchard. * ♥ * “Well, Miss Applejack, that’s the last dead tree down in this row.” Flam leaned up against a fallen apple tree and pushed his hat back on his sweaty head. Despite Rarity’s best efforts, he had maintained his familiar straw boater through his entire time at Sweet Apple Acres, although it had gradually gained small holes and a respectful coating of dirt until it was nearly a farmer’s hat. It had even stuck on his head while he put in his work on the cross-cut saw the two of them had been using, holding the grip in his jaws like a regular farm pony. “Looks like the work is just about done for this year.” Applejack was unable to suppress a chuckle at the city pony who believed surviving a few months’ worth of country living automatically made him a country pony. “That’s what you think. Just because the apples are all out of the trees don’t mean the work will really slow until the snow gets thick. We’ve got most of the sortin’ to do yet, separating out the ripe apples for immediate sale before they spoil and the not quite ripe ones for storing or shippin’ out to all corners of Equestria while making applesauce and apple jam. Your sortin’ widget’ll take a lot out of that, but there’s lots of hard work left.” Applejack heaved a sigh. “Always is.” “True.” Flam waggled his jaw, which was probably as sore as Applejack’s from their afternoon work with the cross-cut saw, culling out the old and dead apple trees. “You know, I didn’t realize how much work it was to make an honest bit.” Applejack nodded. “More than makin’ a dishonest bit, that’s for sure. Twilight done said she talked to Kick Kormick, an’ he should be out himself in a couple days, since you two said you was ready to show off your widget.” She paused just to soak in the late sunlight and the smell of hard work and perspiration. She was not about to admit it, but as much as city ponies talked about some stallion ‘cleaning up well’ when they were making googly eyes at them, she much preferred seeing one covered in twigs and sweat. Not that she was looking. Flam grunted in a noncommittal way, a bad habit that he had probably picked up from Big Mac. “Thought you’d be happy,” said Applejack. “After all, some big machinery maker is wantn’ to buy your widget. That’s what you said you wanted to stay here for.” She paused and gave him a sideways glance, taking in the way he had picked up a few more muscles where they did the most good. “’Less you was lyin’ about that too, like your brother was about Apple Sprout bein’ his.” Flam slowly took his hoof away from rubbing his face and put it back on the ground. “Yeah, I was.” After a period of time where the lying scoundrel did not say anything else, Applejack huffed, “Well, don’t just leave me here like a turtle sitting on a fencepost. You two scamming brothers been about as dismal as a frog bog for the last couple of weeks. It ain’t like you’ve been cookin’ up some scheme, on account of you bein’ all happy and perky when you’re about to steal some widder’s last bit, so there’s gotta be somethin’ else in there. Ah know Flim was a wantin’ to leave after he done spilled the beans about Apple Sprout not bein’ his, and the two of you are still here, so you musta talked him out of it. What is it you’re so consarned stubborn about—” “You.” “Beg pardon?” Applejack looked directly at the scheming liar, who seemed to have found some portion of the ground fascinating instead of looking back with those dangerous green eyes as she wanted him to do. “I’ve tried to do right by you, Miss Applejack. I’ve done everything you wanted, but you still call me a thief. I thought I was used to it by now, but whenever you say it…” She wanted to brush off his accusation, but the words did not come out, probably because what he was saying was more true than Applejack wanted to admit. Flam looked just about as down as Flim did on that long walk in the moonlight, and rather than have two crying stallions to worry about, she decided to take the proverbial bull by the horns, or the unicorn by the horn, as the case might be. “Follow me. No, just leave the saw here,” she added as the unicorn ran a cleaning spell over the shining steel, leaving a glistening coat of oil across the surface. “It won’t rust by tomorrow, an’ I got somethin’ more important to show you.” It was a shorter walk than she had first thought, or else her busy mind was not keeping track of time right, and the clearing with the quiet stones loomed up in front of her path before she was ready. Gritting her teeth, she walked forward into the colorful and cheerful resting spot where the setting sun was busy painting the leafless trees in shades of gold, followed by Flam. The yellow stallion hesitated at first, but picked up his steps and came to a halt in the center where Applejack was standing, looking at two familiar stones. “Ma. Pa. This here’s the low-down scoundrel I was talkin’ to you about before, only he ain’t quite as low-down as I done thought. Matter of fact, there’s a few good seeds of an Apple in him, an’ if’n you was around, I think you might take a shine to him and his no-good brother.” She turned to Flam. “That’s about as good as you’re gonna get.” “I’ll take it,” he responded, and smiled that sneaky smile of his in what seemed to be the first time in forever. “Like you’d take anything not nailed down,” groused Applejack, trying to suppress her own smile, but stopped when… …he kissed her. It lasted far longer than Applejack had expected, not to say she had expected being kissed, but if she had, she might have done it better. It sucked all of the air out of her chest and the words out of her head, leaving her to just stand there like some dummy in Rarity’s workroom when Flam broke off and sat back, looking as if he were about to be whupped. “Well, that ain’t nothing nopony ever stole from me before,” said Applejack once she was able to talk again. “And it do tickle something fierce.” “I’m a very particular stallion,” said Flam in a slow, measured way, like he was having problems putting words to his mustached mouth. “If I see a mare I like, I say…” He stopped with a long pause and his jaw still wriggling as he tried to find words, but Applejack found hers first. Well, most of them. “Now hold yer horses. You think… I’m… We’re…” She scratched at her upper lip and tried unsuccessfully to scowl, or at least not to smile in an encouraging fashion, because the last thing either of the brothers needed was encouragement. “No.” Something inside her crumpled at the way Flam deflated, with all the hope and sparkling mischief vanishing out of his green eyes. “Now you stop that!” she snapped. “Gettin’ mah heart all aflutter with stealing kisses.” “It was only one kiss,” protested Flam, with that sly smile making a small comeback. “Singular.” “Well…” Applejack considered it for a moment, but could not lie about the experience. “It weren’t all that bad, ’cept you had to do it in front of my folks. Pa would throw a right fit.” Flam glanced to one side in a slightly guilty fashion, much as he expected some sort of beyond-the-grave parental censure. “And your mother?” Applejack grumbled good-naturedly to conceal a giggle. “She’d be knitting baby bonnets.” After a quick glance up at the setting sun, Applejack shook her head and turned to leave. “Look, we should get back up to the house afore Apple Bloom feeds our dinner to the hogs. Just… don’t tell ’em about what we was doin’ here.” “My lips are sealed,” said Flam, holding a hoof across his chest while walking by her side. “And itchy.” She grumbled while they walked, trying not to feel resentful at the perky strut that Flam had to his stride. “Ah swear, it’s like kissing a hedgehog covered in nettles. Still got me itching. An’ don’t get to thinkin’ Ah’ll let you do that again.” “Do what again, Applejack?” said Flam with a sideways glance and a raised eyebrow. “We were just out walking.” “An’ don’t you forget it.”