Applejack wiped a bit of sweat off her forehead and picked up one last apple to add to the cart. It was a good feeling, running a farm. Sure it was hard work, and there was always more to do than could be done in a day, but nothing beat the satisfaction that came from looking at the literal fruit of her labors.
She got to the barn a few minutes later, pulling a cart full of apples that were destined to become sauce. She nudged open the door-
“Aaah! Don’t look!” A wave of purple magic slammed the door shut.
Oh, right. They’d turned the barn into a studio for Sketchy. “Sorry, Twi. Forgot y’all were in here.”
“Applejack?” Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. “Sorry. I thought it was your brother.”
“It’s fine.” Applejack cleared her throat. “So, uh, can I come in? I need to use the equipment in there.”
There was a long pause. “I, I guess?”
“Thanks.” Applejack hauled the cart of apples inside, where she found Twilight resting on the old bed they’d dragged in here. She was leaning on one side, her wings splayed out behind her, and a book in her hooves, like she’d been reading. Of course, she was also positioned to give Sketchy and Applejack a clear view of the royal assets. Twi seemed plenty aware of it too, considering the blush spreading across her face. Applejack felt a bit flushed herself as she looked away. “So, uh, how’s it going in here?”
“Fine,” Sketchy said without looking up from his work.
“Glad to hear it, I think.” Applejack unhooked the cart, grabbed a knife, and started coring the first apple. “Sorry to interrupt. The family kitchen ain’t big enough to handle a job like this.” She waved a hoof at the industrial-size sink, stove, and oven against the far wall.
“Understood,” Sketchy said.
Applejack glanced over at him, which also meant seeing Twilight’s rear. She looked away immediately. Not that she hadn’t seen all of her friend’s keisters plenty of times—Ponies didn’t wear clothes, after all—but as they said, context was everything.
The first cored and peeled apple went into a large pan, and Applejack grabbed the next. The motions were all familiar to her, comforting even. This would be a completely relaxed moment for her, except for the little details of her friend mooning her on the bed and her not-exactly coltfriend drawing a picture of it.
Life was weird sometimes.
“I’ve finished drawing your head,” Sketchy said after a while. “You can talk, if you want.”
“Are you sure?” Twilight asked.
“Yes.”
No pony said anything.
Applejack cleared her throat and looked over at Twilight, then looked away and went back to peeling and coring.
“So …” Twilight said, “how are … things?”
“Fine, I suppose.” Applejack did her best to shrug casually. “Sketchy’s got an appointment with each of the new models now that he has a place to draw them.” Another glance at the bed, and another quick glance away. “We, uh, we’re hoping to get enough pieces drawn and copied that he’ll be able to run a stand in the marketplace.”
“That’s … good.” Twilight’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “Have you done any pictures of Big Mac yet?”
Applejack nearly sliced her hoof open. “Twi, please don’t tell me you want to ogle my brother.”
Twilight’s voice somehow managed to sound like it was blushing. “You have to admit that he’s quite good looking.”
“No I don’t!” Applejack shuddered. “Imagine how you’d feel if I started talking about how sexy Shining Armor is.”
“Point taken,” Twilight said. “Wait, you think my brother is sexy?”
Applejack blushed. “I never said that.”
“You implied it,” Twilight said. “You threatened to start talking about how, ugh, sexy he is, indicating that his attractiveness has been constant and the only change is that you’d start bringing it up.”
“What, specifically, is sexy about him?” Sketchy asked.
“Nothing,” Applejack said quickly.
“Is there any way I could convince you to tell me?” Sketchy asked. “I only have the most basic idea of what makes a stallion attractive.”
Applejack held out for all of five seconds before sighing. “He’s married and has a kid.”
“Which has what to do with his sexiness?” Sketchy added a few lines to his drawing.
Applejack could feel her cheeks turning red. “I kinda have a thing for family ponies, okay? Nothing’s more attractive than a stallion who’s devoted to his wife and loves his daughter.”
“It sounds like you want to have an affair with my brother,” Twilight said, disgust caked onto her voice like mug on a pig.
“That’s not what I meant,” Applejack said. “I want a stallion who could love me and our future children the same way your brother loves Cadance and Flurry.”
Sketchy gave her one of those confused looks. “So you’d be aroused by a picture of Twilight’s brother posing with his wife and daughter?”
Applejack gagged. “There’s so much wrong with what you just said that I don’t even know where to start.”
“Agreed,” Twilight said.
“Would you mind explaining why?” Sketchy asked.
“How about we change the subject and never bring it up again?” Applejack countered.
“I don’t suppose I could pay you to explain it?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Very well.” He added one more line to his drawing and then nodded. “Finished. Thank you for your help, Princess Twilight.”
“You can call me Twilight,” she said, getting up. “Ugh, it’s harder than I expected to hold one position for so long.” She came around to look at Sketchy’s drawing. “Um, Applejack, does my flank really look like that?”
Applejack steeled her nerves enough to take a good look at the picture. “I suppose so, why?”
“I didn’t realize how flabby it looks compared to yours.” Twilight blushed and tucked her tail between her legs. “I think I need to start a morning exercise routine.”
“Your rear’s fine,” Applejack said with a chuckle. “Tell her, Sketchy.”
“I don’t know enough about pony tastes to comment,” Sketchy said. “By the way, should I draw you next?”
Applejack glanced at the bed and flushed. “Well, uh, I’ve still got plenty of apples to peel and core.”
“I can take over,” Twilight said. “Unless you’d rather I didn’t.” She looked at Sketchy then back to Applejack. “I’d understand if you’d prefer a more private setting.”
There were a lot of implications there, and Applejack didn’t much care for any of them. “Nope, go ahead and stay.” She held out the peeling knife hilt first.
Twilight took it and started on a new apple.
“Where do you want me?” Applejack asked.
Sketchy looked around the room for a minute. “A bale of hay, maybe, with your hat off.”
Hay wasn’t exactly comfortable, it itched like mad after a while, but anything was better than the bed. Applejack tossed her hat out of the way and hopped onto the bale. “Now what?”
“Lie on your stomach,” Sketchy said, “propping yourself up on your elbows.” He waited while she did so. “Cross your forelegs. Your back legs too. Perfect. Now angle your tail up slightly. Yes, stay just like that.”
“What kind of face should I make?” Applejack asked.
Sketchy frowned. “What do you mean?”
“If I may,” Twilight said gently, “I think Applejack told you that I evaluated you for ASD, and you seemed to be on the spectrum.”
“Yes.”
“Well,” Twilight continued, “that makes it hard for most ponies to read facial expressions, but for most ponies, the face is the biggest indicator of mood.”
Sketchy blinked a few times. “Really?”
“Really.” Twilight waved at Applejack. “Her body posture might be sexual at the moment, but her face says she’s feeling neutral, even bored.”
“I’m not bored,” Applejack said. “Just waiting while you finish explaining things to him.” Though to be fair, Twilight’s explanations could be plenty boring sometimes.
“What type of face should she be making?” Sketchy asked.
“I’m not an expert,” Twilight said, “but I think it depends on what emotion you’re trying to convey. If she looked arrogant, for example, it would probably be read as a challenging look, like she’s waiting for the viewer to impress her.”
“What expression would suit Applejack best?” Sketchy asked.
“I’m not sure.” Twilight turned to Applejack. “What expression do you think would make for the best picture?”
Applejack shrugged. “As if I’d know, but I guess this is supposed to be sexy art, so maybe something attractive?” She did her best to give bedroom eyes. “Like this, maybe.”
Twilight laughed. “I don’t know what you were going for, but you look like Pinkie when somepony asks her to throw a party.”
Fine, so she didn’t have much practice at bedroom eyes. Applejack tried to look like she really wanted sex. “How about now?”
“You look hungry.”
Maybe like she was in love?
“Sleepy.”
In a cuddly mood?
“Aggressive.”
Applejack sighed. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this sort of thing.”
“You’ve only been trying for a minute.” Twilight tapped a hoof against her chin. “Imagine you’re tucking Apple Bloom into bed after a long day together.”
She didn’t need to imagine that, just remember one of the many times she’d done it. A smile worked its way across her face.
“Yes,” Twilight said, “hold onto that expression. It’s perfect.”
Applejack did her best.
“Now draw her like that,” Twilight said.
“Thank you,” Sketchy said as he got to work. “After this, would you please teach me the different expressions and what they mean?”
Twilight smiled. “I’d be glad to.”
Just then, Big Mac opened the barn door. “AJ, you-” His gaze fell on Applejack, and his face twisted up like he’d just seen an eldritch abomination from the blackness beyond space. Or his sister posing like a pinup model. Either or.
Applejack’s cheeks went bright red.
“Nope!” Big Mac declared, slamming the door shut.
“What was that about?” Sketchy asked.
Applejack shuddered. “Forget it and draw.” She also made a mental note to not look Big Mac in the eyes for a week.