The steam gently swirled and rolled through the air between them, lulling Rarity into a comfortable stupor. Moisture trickled down the wooden walls, slipped over her mane, and along her coat. She took a deep breath, and warmth went flowing down her throat and throughout her chest. She closed her eyes and rested her head back against the wall.
“So… we just sit here?”
Rarity smiled and peeked at Applejack, who was fidgeting back and forth on the opposite bench, wiping water away from her eyes.
“Yes.” Rarity smiled. “And relax.”
Applejack shifted back and forth in her seat for a few moments before speaking up again. “What exactly is supposed to be happenin’ right now?”
Rarity sighed. “The steam opens up your pores, which in turn improves your blood flow and flushes away toxins. It’ll make your coat look absolutely magnificent.”
Applejack snorted, sending steam twisting around her snout. “And how long does that take?”
“Let the steam settle,” Rarity replied, taking another deep breath and allowing the steam to soothe her throat.
“Is there something else we can do besides the sauna?”
“This is a steam room, saunas are dry.” Rarity lifted her head up to look at Applejack through the bleary haze, her mane clinging to the wall behind her. “If you aren’t going to get a massage, you at least have to do this. You promised me you would spend one day at the spa,” Rarity said, putting on her best pout.
“Fine, fine,” Applejack said, leaning back against the wall. “How long does it take?”
“You have to relax first,” Rarity said, stifling a giggle and a smirk. "Otherwise, nothing will happen."
“I thought that was the whole point.”
Rarity chuckled. “You have to allow it to relax you. Really, when was the last time you had a break? You work all day, but when do you ever take a little time to treat yourself?”
“Can’t argue with that, I guess.”
Rarity allowed herself a small smirk. “And you should really let your mane down.”
Applejack frowned and ran a hoof through her ponytail, stopping at the red band binding her hair. “Nah, I’m fine.”
Rarity shrugged and settled into her seat. “If you’re sure.”
They fell into a pleasant quiet, listening to the hissing steam fill the room and the slow breaths of two resting ponies. Rarity, smiling contentedly, couldn’t remember a time she’d felt more relaxed.
“So, how’s the dress business goin’?” Applejack asked, her eyes closed.
“You don’t have to pretend to be interested in the Boutique,” Rarity said with another chuckle. “Being here is enough.”
“Hey, that’s not true,” Applejack protested, leaning forward. “I don’t have to pretend to care about my friends’ work. If didn't wanna know I wouldn't have asked.”
“Well, if you insist, it could be better," Rarity said with a tired sigh.
“How so?”
Rarity rubbed the back of her neck. “I’d rather not discuss this here.” Her leg jerked abruptly at the feeling of something brushing her leg.
She saw Applejack lay a hoof on her leg for a brief moment before pulling away. “I’m around, okay? Just let me know if you need any help.”
Rarity stared down at the spot where Applejack’s hoof had been, eyes wide. “O-okay. Well… I designed my entire formal season line with satin, which has been very hard to find this year, so it was very expensive.”
Applejack poked at the inside of her cheek with her tongue. “And I’m guessin’ satin hasn’t been sellin’?”
“It would have,” Rarity huffed. “But that boor Opal Lace, who wouldn’t know a good design if it served her tea and pancakes for breakfast, somehow convinced Hoity Toity to feature her line instead. And now all anypony in Canterlot talks about is lace and tatting. It’s simply infuriating.”
“I can only imagine,” Applejack replied, without the barest hint of sarcasm. “Why’d you make yours with satin?”
“Well,” Rarity leaned forward, feeling the familiar excitement that always came with discussing her designs, “it’s been years since satin was in style. Not since Ruby Glacier presented her last line at the Manehatten expo, at least. And I know for a fact that it is a personal favorite of Fancy Pants’.”
“Really?” Applejack asked, barely hiding the fact that she didn’t have the faintest idea what the difference between satin any other fabric was.
“Oh yes,” Rarity replied. “Not many ponies know, but the last time I was in Canterlot I spoke to him and…”
To Rarity's surprised, Applejack continued listening intently, long after it had become clear to them both that the cow pony no longer had any idea what Rarity was talking about. Applejack nodded politely and smiled at all of the right times, and it seemed to Rarity like her friend really did care what she had to say. It was so rare that she had the opportunity to talk fashion and gossip with anypony but Fluttershy, who, for all of her wonderful qualities, wasn’t much of a conversationalist. And Applejack seemed to be enjoying herself anyway.
“Mmmmm,” Applejack moaned between a lull in the conversation. “You were right. This is nice.” Applejack spent so much time working it wasn’t often that Rarity had the chance to see her like this, comfortably smiling, her legs loosely hanging at her sides, muscles relaxed. Her damp coat positively glowed beneath the steam.
Rarity smiled. “I knew you’d love this.”
Applejack leaned back, breathing deep. “I think I’m ready to try one those massages now.”
“Perfect, I’ll go call Lotus and—” Rarity stopped, a bold idea taking hold. “Actually, I could do it.”
Applejack raised one brow. “You know how to, eh, massage?”
“Sure I could,” Rarity said, trying to hide her growing excitement. “I’ve been here every week for the last ten years. I’ve seen the twins give more than enough massages to know how it’s done. I’m certain I could.”
“Okay.” Applejack shrugged. “Should we get out of here first?”
“No,” Rarity said, jumping to her hooves. “This is fine, just turn around.”
Applejack shrugged again, swiveling through the mist so her back was facing Rarity. “Is this good?”
“Perfect,” Rarity said breathlessly, tentatively walking forward and placing a hoof on Applejack’s glistening coat. “I’m going to have to let your hair down though.” Rarity grinned as she pulled the hair band away, letting Applejack’s straw hair fall loosely over her shoulders and back, smelling earthy and sweet.
Rarity slid her loves along Applejack’s back for a few moments, indulging in the feeling of the soft coat over strong muscles, before pressing down. “How does that feel?”
“Ugh,” Applejack groaned. “Are you sure you know how to do this?”
“Sorry,” Rarity said, moving her hooves near Applejack’s neck and twisting them in small circles. “Is this better?”
“A little,” Applejack replied, her muscles tensing beneath Rarity’s touch. “But not much. Maybe we should just go see the spa ponies.”
“No!” Rarity cried, wincing at the force in her voice. “No, I can do this. I want to do this for you.” She pressed harder, her hooves digging into Applejack’s tightening skin. Applejack groaned painfully.
“Eh, Rarity,” Applejack said, turning around and staying Rarity’s hooves. “Please stop. I appreciate that you wanna help, but I’m pretty sure you don’t have any idea what you’re doin’.”
Rarity sighed. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” She turned away.
“Hey.” Applejack touched her shoulder, smiling. “Thanks for bringing me here. This is really great.”
Rarity smiled and dared a small nuzzle, brushing against Applejack’s neck. “You’re welcome.”
Applejack smiled back to her. “Come on,” she said, leading Rarity out of the steam and into the cold hallway, pressing close. “I really am happy that you asked me to come. I’ve been lookin’ to spend more time with you for a while now.”
“Of course,” Rarity said, drawing closer to Applejack and relishing in the warmth that passed between them.
Rarity shook the memory from her mind and drew the covers up over her face so she couldn’t see the windows, their curtains drawn to catch the blearing afternoon light and leaving the room in appropriate gloom. In the heat of the bed, she could smell her sweat. Her breath, uncomfortably hot and moist, filled the sheets and clung to her face until she had to turn away. But it followed her and no matter which way she turned sleep wouldn’t come.
Applejack didn’t want her. Rarity always secretly believed that Applejack would, if only Rarity told her friend how she really felt. She’d always assumed that they would end up together eventually, that there would always be some chance. She’d known that chance was remote, but it had always lingered in the back of her mind. Now that chance had been definitively crushed once and for all.
__________________________________________________
Twilight sighed as her eyes swept over the room. The tulips in the vase by the door had dried and blanched violet, a single strand of ribbon had been strung over a bare mannequin and rolled, winding and twisting across the floor, and a smell like stale bread hung by the kitchen door. Besides those small changes, it seemed Carousel Boutique had frozen itself in time the night of Rarity and Applejack’s fight. Everything sat in the exact same spot as she had seen then. It was clear, clean, and neatly typical of the unicorn who called it home.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Rainbow Dash called from the top of the stairs. “Get back up here.”
Twilight trotted back up the wide steps. “I thought there might be something down there that could help.”
“Did you find anything?” Rainbow Dash asked, fluttering over the top step with her forelegs crossed over her chest.
“No,” Twilight answered, shaking her head.
“Good work,” Dash said, irritable and bored. “Hurry up already.”
Twilight ignored her, trotted down the hallway, stopped at the door, and knocked. Again. “Rarity, you need to come out.”
Something shuffled about in the closed room. “Go away,” Rarity said, her voice muffled by the door.
Rainbow Dash pounded both her hooves on the wood. “Seriously, Rarity, this is like the hundredth time you’ve done this. And every single time we sit out here and are like, ‘Hey Rarity, come out now,’ and you say…”
“No,” Rarity said, an annoyed twinge in her voice.
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “And then Twilight says…”
Twilight nodded and opened her mouth. “R—”
“And then I’m like, ‘Blah blah blah,’ ”Dash immediately interrupted. “And you say, ‘Blah blah blah,’ and we say, ‘Blah bah blah,’ and then you come out after a couple days, and then Pinkie Pie throws a party. Can we just skip to the last step this time? You know, speed things up a little?”
Rarity didn’t respond.
Twilight glared at the pegasus. “That isn’t helping.”
Rainbow Dash shrugged. “I thought it was worth a shot.”
“What’d I miss?”
Twilight turned to see Pinkie bouncing up the stairs, a popcorn bucket balanced on her back and slinging kernels through the air with each bounce.
“Nothing,” Rainbow Dash answered, grabbing a hoof full of popcorn. “She’s just sitting in there.”
“Awesome!” Pinkie sat down on her haunches and plopped the bucket down in front of her hooves, already half empty. “I brought popcorn.”
Twilight sighed again and chewed on a piece of popcorn, feeling the cloying, sweet butter coat her teeth.
Rainbow Dash pounded on the door again, her mouth still full of popcorn. “No spfony spefides Appleflack even cares.” She swallowed. “She’s just uptight.”
“Yeah,” Pinkie said, balancing a kernel on her snout. “Sugar Sweet’s cute. Right, Twilight?”
Twilight rubbed her chin. “Well, Spike was a little upset, but—”
“You told Spike?!” Rarity shrieked.
“I didn’t give him details, but he was bound to find out sooner or later. Better from me than somepony else.”
Rarity groaned.
“What are you doing in there anyway?” Rainbow Dash asked, smiling as she tossed a bit of popcorn at Pinkie’s mane when the bouncing pony turned away.
“Eating fancy food,” Rarity called back.
“You’re eatin—ahh!” Dash yelped as Pinkie Pie, ever ready for a popcorn fight, tossed the entire bucketful back at her. Twilight winced at the now snack-littered floor. Whenever she finally came out, Rarity wasn’t going to be happy.
Pinkie smiled and threw the empty bucket down the stairs. “Ooo, I have popcorn. Wanna trade?”
“If you’re going to eat, can you at least eat out here so we can talk?” Twilight asked. Before turning away from the door and lowering her voice. “Stop making a mess or she’ll never come out,” she hissed at Dash, trying to swipe the popcorn out of sight with her tail.
“What?” Dash cried. “She started it!”
Pinkie waggled her brows up down at Dash and grinned, sucking popcorn off the floor and down her throat.
“Just stop,” Twilight said, ignoring the pegasus’s protests.
They heard what sounded like something falling over on the other side of the door. “You’re right,” Rarity said after a pause.
“Who’s right?” Twilight asked, looking around.
The door abruptly swung open, and Rarity, looking as meticulously manicured as ever, trotted out. She nodded to Pinkie, who was busy making silly faces at Dash, and walked to the stairs.
Twilight stepped out of the way as Dash launched herself at Pinkie, falling into a giggling mass of pink, blue, and popcorn. “Where are you going?”
“To ask Applejack to dinner,” Rarity replied, her hooves crunching on fallen popcorn with each step.
“Uuh, are you sure that’s such a good idea?” Twilight asked. “I think Applejack is still pretty upset.”
Rarity flicked her tail to the side. “No, I’m not. And please have this hallway cleaned before I get back.”
Twilight watched Rarity leave, and then turned to Rainbow Dash, who was sitting, beaming and triumphant, on Pinkie’s stomach, stray bits of crushed kernels spread across the floor around her. “I’m not cleaning this up.”
_________________________________________________
Rarity followed the sight green leaves, red apples, and the sound of hooves striking bark. Most of Sweet Apple Acre’s trees had succumbed to the growing cold, leaving behind thin strokes of bare, web-like limbs to grasp at the empty air. But one patch of trees always outlasted the rest, stubbornly shining with fruit until the first snowfall. It was to this patch that Rarity walked, head held straight and legs moving quickly.
Applejack didn't want her. But Rarity didn't believe that, she couldn't. All she could think of was that very first spa visit they’d shared, just the two of them together. She shook her head, remembering the feeling of Applejack’s coat pressing against her own and the warmth they’d shared.
No, it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true. Even if Applejack herself didn’t realize it yet, Rarity was certain she loved her. Rarity would just have to make her realize it.
She slowed when she reached the green trees, enjoying the fleeting taste of summer. The Apple’s collie ran by her and barked happily. Winona ran up a small hill, her tongue hanging loosely out of her mouth, up to Applejack. The cowpony was pulling a large cart filled with apples. She frowned at Rarity and then smiled again.
Rarity put on a smile of her own and trotted up the hill. “Good afternoon, Applejack. How are you?”
“Afternoon,” Applejack said, bending down to scratch Winona’s neck. “I'm fine. We’re just gatherin’ up the last of this year’s harvest.” She stood up and rubbed her own neck. “How ‘bout you?”
“Swimmingly,” Rarity replied, walking closer. “Ah, and it’s going well, I suppose?”
“Well enough.” Applejack said, shrugging. “I can’t complain, anyway.”
Rarity smiled and nodded. “Lovely day, yes?”
Applejack glanced up at the cold, gray sky. “I guess. Did you, uh, need somethin’?”
Rarity nudged the bothering dog away from her with a hoof and smiled all the more. “Yes, I’ve come to ask if you’d be interested in joining me for dinner this evening.”
“Sure I would,” Applejack replied, continuing to pull the cart forward. “I can hardly remember the last time we all got together to do anything.”
Rarity fell into a slow trot beside her. “Well, actually I was thinking it could be just the two of us.”
“Just the two of us?” Applejack repeated, one cheek crumpled.
“Yes, think of it as a sort of da—apology.”
“I told you not to apologize to me.” Applejack walked a little faster. “That’s behind us now.”
“Well, just a dinner between friends then?”
Applejack didn’t answer.
Rarity ran in front of her friend and stopped, forcing Applejack to stop and nearly getting both of them run over by the apple-filled cart. “Applejack, please. I’d really like to do this with you. We can just go to the Sandwich Shack if you want. Nothing fancy. Just as friends. When was the last time you had a break?”
Applejack sighed. “Fine, tonight at the Sandwich Shack then. Nothing fancy. Just as friends.”
“Perfect!” Rarity smiled and laughed. “I’ll see you tonight then.”
“Mm hmm.”
Rarity turned and trotted back to the gray trees. Soon, Winona ran beside her again. Rarity welcomed the company, thinking about apple harvests. Winona barked, and Rarity threw her head back and laughed at a joke only she heard.
__________________________________________________
It was going to be a big night. Well, formally it was only going to be a dinner between friends, but Rarity knew how important such a seemingly insignificant occurrence could be. She rifled through her closet’s many dresses, skirts, robes, and hats. She couldn’t wear a dress, that would be too obvious, but she had to wear something special. She'd spent the day trying and failing to update her season line. She couldn't seem to focus on anything but the thought of cowpony hats.
Applejack probably wouldn’t mind if she wore something simple. Maybe she would wear the scarf Rarity had made for her the night before. Rarity smiled at the thought. Her ear and smile twitched as somepony knocked on the front door.
She sighed and walked down the stairs, past half-shaped dresses and piles of folded cloth, and opened the door.
“Hey, Rarity!”
It was a long while before Rarity recognized the mare greeting her from past her doorway and beneath the evening rain, a glowing umbrella floating over her head. Her scarf looked familiar, but the rest of her was a strange mess of blonde mane and pink coat. Then she noticed the yellow eyes.
“Can I come in?”
“No.” Rarity glanced behind her. “What do—er, do you need something?”
“Oh, okay.” Sugar Sweet smiled anyway. “I just wanted to lik—uh, say sorry, for getting you in trouble with your friends. I shouldn’t have gone to the library to see them. It was my fault, and I should have tried to be more careful. I—I just wanted to know why you liked her so much, so I could be better for you, but I just messed everything up.”
Sugar Sweet looked down. “And I’m sorry I yelled at her. I know I just made everything worse, but she was saying all those mean things about you, and I—and I’m sorry.”
Silence hung about while the other mare stared at Rarity, smiling hopefully and expectantly. Rarity cleared her throat. “I, well, thank you. It’s better now… And I apologize as well. I… shouldn’t have said those things to you.”
Sugar Sweet beamed. “No problem! I made you something to make up for it.” She floated a dingy cloth in front of Rarity’s face. Its stitching hung loose, the hems were uneven, and the colors poorly chosen.
“What is it?”
“It’s a cloak,” Sugar Sweet said, floating it around in circles to show her the hood. “I know it isn’t as good as the stuff you make. I’m not nearly as good as you, but I thought—”
“I have more cloaks than I need as it is,” Rarity said with a snort and waved the cloth away.
Sugar Sweet frowned. “Oh…”
“But I do appreciate the thought,” Rarity added quickly with a strained smile. “I’m sure I can find a place for it somewhere. Is that all, or did you need something else?”
“No, I’ll keep it. Uh, see you later…” Sugar Sweet turned away.
Rarity moved to close the door. “Well, goodbye then.”
“Wait!” Sugar Sweet turned around quickly, sending her mane whirling around her head. “Like, wait a second. I need to say something else.”
Rarity stopped the door half-way closed and sighed.
Sugar Sweet took a deep breath and jittered on her hooves, looking for all the world like she was about to be marched into a lion’s den. “I need to say thank you.”
“That’s really not necessary,” Rarity said, closing the door again.
Sugar Sweet threw her leg in the door. “Please wait!”
“…Alright,” Rarity slowly let the door swing back open.
“Thank you for being nice to me.” Sugar Sweet swiped her mane away, tucked it behind her neck, and looked down at her hooves. “Most ponies I went to see were really mean, or just, like, really awful. Or they would act like I’m not a pony at all and wouldn’t talk to me or anything. But you were always super nice, and I always really liked being with you, more than anypony else.” She smiled.
Rarity looked at everything, the low, gray clouds, the sky dimming over the brightening streetlamps, the lone candle glowing behind her neighbor’s window, two ponies walking side-by-side down the damp street, paying more attention to each other than where they were walking—everything but the mare standing before her.
“I realized that I don’t want to be with anypony else,” Sugar Sweet said. “I only want to be with you.”
“Oh no,” Rarity muttered under her breath, massaging her forehead. She dropped her hoof and looked at Sugar Sweet. “Listen, I’m sorry, I don’t know what you thought this was, but it must end now.”
Sugar Sweet’s lips trembled. “Oh, but why?”
“I promised I wouldn’t.”
Sugar Sweet’s smile returned, full and sparkling. “We don’t have to do that anymore. We’re friends, right? We can just hang out together!”
Rarity prodded at her doorstep. “No, I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”
“But, why not? I made you laugh, right?” Sugar Sweet asked, leaning forward suddenly as if to catch something that she had dropped and feared lost. “I don’t want, like, anything else. Just that.”
“No, I promised I wouldn’t see any more escorts.” Rarity dared a look at the mare before her, and immediately dropped her gaze again. “And that includes you.”
“I’ll quit then!” Sugar Sweet cried. “I can find another job easy. I don’t even like doing this.”
Rarity steeled her back, standing up straight. “I’m sorry, but you must keep away from me from now on.”
Sugar Sweet’s smile held until her mane fell back over her eyes. “…Because of her?”
“Yes, of course.” Rarity continued massaging her forehead.
“You’re, like, the stupidest pony I’ve ever met,” Sugar Sweet said, her eyes glowering behind her mane like a fire smoldering beneath a bale of straw. “I never called you disgusting. I only wanted to be nice to you. Like, every single thing she said was true.”
“Please, please, please go away. I’m so sorry.” Rarity sniffled, she wouldn’t cry though. She absolutely refused to cry. “I’m begging you—leave me alone. I promised I wouldn’t see you again.”
Sugar Sweet stared, opened her mouth, closed it, spun around on her hooves like a drunk, and walked slowly away into the drizzle, her umbrella swaying precariously over her head.
Rarity closed the door and wiped her eyes. She trotted upstairs into the bathroom to splash hot water on her face. She knew the pain of being told she wasn’t wanted, and she never would have wished it on even the absolute worst of ponies, much less the caring and thoughtful. If there had only been some other way, some way no pony would have to have gotten hurt…
She sniffed again, steeling her face and pushing those thoughts out of her mind. She still needed to figure out what she was going to wear. After all, it was going to be a big night.