"Mmmmm!" Fancy Pants sat at the end of the kitchen table with a scrumptious expression across his muzzle. He finished nibbling on the apple slice and dabbed his chin with a napkin. "Most exquisite! A fine delicacy!"
"Pffft! Delicacy?" Apple Bloom leaned up to the edge of the table, perpendicular to the rich house guest. "Ya mean you've never had apple slices packed in yer school lunch before??"
"Apple Bloooooom..." Applejack growled slightly from the opposite end of the kitchen.
"Haha!" Fancy Pants waved a hoof. "No offense taken. Young filly..." He leaned down so he was staring squarely with the little crusader. "...when I went to preparatory school—believe me—I wished I could share in the pleasures of such sweet tasty treats! What you might consider average is—to me—a little slice of heaven. No pun intended."
"Wow..." Apple Bloom blinked. "I didn't know that home-grown fruit was such a rarity in hoity-toity places."
Applejack winced again.
Fancy Pants merely smiled. "My dear, in hoity toity places... things aren't usually crafted from the heart. Nor..." He took another slice from his plate and savored it. "Mmmmm... are they quite so deliciously prepared." He squinted through his monocle at Applejack across the way. "And you're certain this is from a random batch?"
"Darn tootin'." Applejack trotted over with a fresh plate of sliced apples. "Fresh off the wagon, too. My brother and I have learned ourselves a mighty reliable method of pickin' bad apples out of the bunch. Although... heheh... to be honest, t'ain't much that needs bein' thrown out of the harvest in the long run."
"Except when it's vampire fruit bat season!" Apple Bloom said.
Applejack face-hoofed.
"I beg your pardon?" Fancy Pants blinked. "Fruit... vampire... what?"
"Ahem. T'ain't for a month or two, now." Applejack turned to frown at Apple Bloom. "And we know how to handle 'em when they show up!"
"I'm afraid I dun follow..."
"Oooh!" Apple Bloom hopped in place. "Vampire fruit bats show up every once in a while and they lurve to suck our crops dry! It's always an adventure gettin' them to shoo away from the orchards!" She grinned. "Last year, Granny and Big Mac used a catapult!"
"My word!"
"But... we've succeeded in gettin' them to high-tail it out of here," Applejack said nervously. "And without harmin' them none too! Ma and Pa? Back in the day they had a harvest or two ruined, but not us! We get help from the whole town if we have to. We never let 'em ruin the crops too bad so dun you worry—"
"Miss Applejack, relax." Fancy Pants waved a hoof. "I believe you. If you must know, I do understand 'pests.'" He smiled. "The financial circles are known to suffer a 'vampire' or two from time to time. It's called 'insider trading.' And—believe you me—I only wish we could... 'shoo away' those cretins with nearly as much ease."
"Heh... I'll take yer word for it."
"As well as you should. And—also..." He tilted his head slightly. "...if the vermin prove to be too bothersome in the future... by all means! Let me know and I shall fully support a pest control team to come and help you fend the little buggers off. After all..." He munched on another apple slice, swallowed, and breathed: "No need in both of us suffering needlessly, eh?"
"Heheheh..." Applejack chuckled, her freckles warming. "Nosiree, partner!"
"Splendid! You'll know where to write me!"
"Do you really live in Canterlot?" Apple Bloom spontaneously asked.
"My little pony, I work in Canterlot. But my home is in Trottingham." Fancy Pants glanced around the kitchen walls. "Sometimes, though, I wonder how enthralling it must be for your workplace and your home to be one in the same. But—then again—perhaps I am most fortunate."
"Ever gone to work in Manehattan?"
"Countless times!"
Apple Bloom hopped in place. "We've got an Aunt and Uncle who live and work in Manehattan! The Oranges! Ever heard of them?"
"Heh... can't say that I have, my dear. What are their profession?"
"A bunch of super stuffy paperwork stuff." Apple Bloom's muzzle twisted. "Granny says they like to rob ponies blind... but only because other ponies have been robbed before."
"Ahem..." Applejack leaned in towards Fancy Pants. "They're solicitors," she whispered.
"Ah." Fancy Pants nodded. "Your grandmother is quite on point."
"Snkkkt..."
"We've got a photo album, Mr. Pants. Would you like to see pictures of them?!"
"I would love nothing better!"
"Neato! Wait here!" And Apple Bloom scampered away.
"Eheheh..." Applejack shuffled up a chair and sat perpendicular to the gentlecolt. "She gets mighty excited-like when we've got a new visitor here on the farm."
"Mmmmm... I gathered." Fancy Pants levitated another apple slice, gazing towards the living room. "She seems to respect her elders."
"Well, we raised her right."
"Indeed." Fancy Pants nodded. "A lucky filly."
"I'd like to think so." Applejack breathed. "Tough enough as it is to get by without her folks."
He ate the apple slice, swallowed, and added: "I'd say that's half true."
Applejack blinked. She raised an eyebrow in Fancy's direction.
"Why..." He looked knowingly at her. "...she does have a mother-figure in her life, does she not?"
Silence.
"I... erm..." Applejack cleared her throat and stared off. "I wouldn't know much about that."
"Of course you would. Don't sell yourself short, my dear. You've accomplished an awful lot in spite of limiting circumstances."
"What do you mean?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Fancy Pants gestured. "You're the veritable backbone of this family. I see a piece of you in everything that thrives here."
"But... but Granny—"
"The foundation, no doubt. The inspiration and the grit, for sure. But you—my dear—are a force to be reckoned with." He adjusted his jacket and sat comfortably, gazing at her. "Even your older brother—a mountain of a stallion—needs something to lean on. You are that very weight, I suspect. You have been for a long time."
Applejack gazed down through the table.
Fancy Pants cocked his head to the side. "... ... ...is this something you're not actually proud of?"
"No sense in bein' proud over something that ain't quite so straight yet."
"The motivation of a hard worker." Fancy Pants nodded. "But you must find inspiration somewhere."
"Mmmmm..." Applejack straightened her hat, silencing the tickling sensation from underneath. She looked out the kitchen window to where the base of a hill began its upward slope into shadow. "Once in a while..."
"I can't imagine any of it has been easy."
She gulped. "N-no..." Her voice was shaky. "Reckon it hasn't."
"Well..." Fancy Pants smiled. "I suspect it's about to get a great deal easier."
She looked at him.
He winked. "But don't let that mean you can work any less hard. We are in a business arrangement now, after all..."
"Heheheh..." She rubbed her cheek, blinking her eyes dry. "Right."
"Good things come to those who stick their muzzle to the grindstone," Fancy Pants said. "That's what I've always believed."
"Somethin' you've learned from experience?"
"Yes—but I'd be lying if I said that most of it hasn't been from osmosis as of late. So... as you can see... humility is a thing we all practice. And you—my dear—could probably use a vacation."
"Nah..." Applejack shook her head. "I don't believe that for one second."
"No. Of course you wouldn't." Just then, the pitter-patter of hooves littered the air. Apple Bloom rushed in and slapped a humongous tome onto the table before Fancy Pants. "Good heavens!" He chuckled, beholding the immensity of the thing. "You must possess the bloody Book of Saros itself!"
"Heehee! Guess again!" Apple Bloom flung the thing open. "Look! It's Aunt and Uncle Orange! Just as I said! There they are by the Haydson River! Lookin' mighty sharp and purdy!"
"Ah! Living up to their names, I see."
"Nah, that's just the chemical fade on the photographic paper."
"They lived in Tartarus' Kitchen? When was this taken? Twenty years ago? Brave souls indeed..."
"But look! They moved uptown a bit! See?"
As Apple Bloom and Fancy Pants poured over the album...
...Applejack leaned back, watching the smiles on their faces... listening to the joyous lilt in their voices. She breathed... and they were warm breaths.