“Yeah, Twilight, I already heard the news minutes ago. Can’t believe the mad girls actually did it.”
“Really, Applejack?” she says, scrolling down her phone by the stall counter, ignoring the Closed sign as tiny videos in her feed show off the horse-run truck blasting through traffic. Legally, she might’ve added.
Applejack sighs and checks the still-empty buckets of no-apples. At least some apple cider hangs back in the age-old barrel. “Big Mac… their Big Mac just suddenly gettin’ round and…”
Her own Big Mac looks up, distracted from rechecking the balances.
“Here!”
That gets Applejack standing up from her humble stool.
The counter bursts with an apple avalanche rolling from their baskets, too many to count for now, more than enough for the trays to handle. Ballpark estimate says three dozen apple pies at minimum.
“What’re ya doin’?!”
“Supply run!” Apple Bloom declares with a shiny grin, her pink bow sprucing up an adorably proud grin.
“And in record time too!” Sweetie Belle adds, stopping the running timer on her phone.
“I didn’t you know you kept speed records!” Scootaloo goes on, taking out a scrap of paper where she wrote down said records down to the millisecond. And her eyes spot some spare aprons and hairnets. “Hey, since Apple Bloom’s gonna be hanging out a bit more, maybe we can help? With a special discount on your apple pies?”
Applejack double-takes. “Wait, hangin’ out with who?”
Before she can ask more, a hulking stallion comes into view: Big Mac, wiping the sweat off his forehead, panting for some air.
“I’m tellin’ ya, the scrappers should be givin’ me more bang for my buck for that run!” Granny announces as she makes her entrance, with a guard warding her away from causing any trouble. Applejack can only watch as her grandmother half-argues, half-gloats with him and some of the Expo’s staff, a couple of which are ponies themselves. “Those young’ns squeezed life out of the old guzzler when it was already dead!”
But while Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle hurry into the stall and don the aprons, waiting for instructions, Applejack looks at the farthest table they have. A four-seater, it’s accompanied by none other than Apple Bloom and that same Big Mac. No food, no drink save for bottled water.
“Is that…?”
She looks beside her, sees her big brother with his mouth open, unable to say the rest of his question as he stares at himself.
Applejack smiles a little. “Loss for words, huh?”
“Well, I guess… thanks for the help, big brother,” Apple Bloom begins. Her fingers tap and twaddle, but she keeps them under the table as a clumsy rush of tourists form yet another line by the stall, wallets out and baked scents already rolling.
“Eeyup.”
For a few seconds, there’s silence. Awkward silence, just looking at each other. Waiting for the other to say something first. Get it over with, already.
But the whole fair catches their attention first. More Wonderbolts rock the skies in round two of their show, and a couple other Earth ponies either wagon-pull more equipment for the upcoming concert or are the concert themselves as they field questions from enthusiastic fans and TV stations. Equestrian merchants hawk souvenirs from the other side at luxurious prices: crystal flowers and Everfree medicines, which are all humanely tested. Not to be outdone, roving food carts wheel fresh scents of hay and plucked leaves nestled in crunched veggie sandwiches, assisted by slurped-up herb-infused wheat noodles. A griffon’s there too, selling rabbit meat and venison, a butcher-cook in the Griffonstone style.
The line quickly reforms. Cheerilee is there once again, and some Crystal Preppers waltz into it, fancy uniforms and all. The faces of familiar aliens also hang around, getting spots in the line for a callback to home in the form of cozy apple dishes, cooked and baked with tender love and care.
“I’m… I’m sorry for going off on ya like that, Big Mac. I was… just too excited about meetin’ ya. I saw Sweetie Belle off with your world’s Rarity, and then Scootaloo with your Rainbow Dash… I thought it’d be the same here too. But I went off the rails this time. I was out of line…”
Big Mac looks on, eyes still on the growing line for apples. Applejack and the other CMC busy themselves preparing pies and pouring down cider, decked out in extra aprons and hairnets. Just like family.
“I’m sorry too, Apple Bloom.”
Her face sharp-turns, lights up. “Wait, what? You’re also sorry? What did ya do?”
Big Mac lets his huge head hang and his scruffy mane fall. Takes his time, gnawing on his jaw. “You were… rowdy. Just like the Crusaders back home… or whatever yer’ called. I… like that.”
A gasp catches her throat. “You did?”
A short-lived stare shoots into the distance. “Eeyup. I brushed you off as jus’ city folk. Should’ve seen your farm first… made you run off instead.”
Apple Bloom chuckles, cupping his big hoof on the table with both her hands. No fingers grasp hers, but she swears she can feel his grip, more than enough for a shake.“I guess we both should’ve asked, huh? We should’ve just… opened up from the start...”
And Big Mac chuckles back, warm like a hearth, hearty just like family.
“Say, what about having a family dinner with both of our families?” Apple Bloom suggests, and possibilities blossom into a million parties: bobbing their heads in water for more apples together, wearing silly cowgirl/cowstallion costumes together, even cook some apple pie for each other and the whole clan. “I don’t mind either place for the venue, but—”
“Why not both?!”
The shout of the CMC declare their entrance, with a tray’s serving of several apple pies along with some apple juice for everyone, Sweetie and Scoots taking off their hairnets and sitting down on spare plastic chairs.
“Come on, Scoots, think of the logistics!” Sweetie says, stuffing herself with a slice of apple pie she just cooked with her “uncouth” hands. “Just going back and forth! And what if the portal breaks, and—oh hi, Apple Bloom!”
And Apple Bloom can only stifle a bout of laughter. “Gettin’ ahead of ourselves here, huh? But yeah, if we can pull both off, that’d more than make up for it!”
“Make up… for what?” Scoots says, checking Apple Bloom’s eyes drifting towards her stallion step-brother.
“That’s… a story for another time! But yeah, Big Mac? I’m glad I got to know ya’ more.”
And Big Mac himself takes a slice of apple pie right to his hoof. How he does it without fingers, Apple Bloom will never understand. Though he doesn’t say a word, a little grunt of approval is more than enough.
“Whaddaya say, Big Mac?” And a cheerful Apple Bloom holds her paper cup of cider sky-high. “Ready to meet the whole family, like, next week?”
“Already?!” yell out Scoots and Sweets.
But Apple Bloom and Big Mac share a little snicker, as they get in on some homemade apple pie and toast their cider together, clinking their cups and letting loose a bellyful of laughter and a serving of hugs.