//------------------------------//
// Chapter 1 
// Story: Reciprocity 
// by Tumbleweed 
//------------------------------//

	Applejack stared at the painting. 
Hard. 
After a long, long appraisal of the picture, she had only four words to offer to her companion.
"I don't get it."
"Oh please, darling," Rarity daintily reached up and adjusted her beret (an essential accessory for art viewing) to the proper angle, "you're not even trying. I know you've had a somewhat...rural upbringing, but...honestly, Applejack, can't you see it?" The unicorn turned and fluttered her eyelashes just-so. It was a practiced look. The faint sounds of a classical string quartet somewhere else in the art gallery only added to the effect. 
"Mmmnope." Applejack said. "Sorry, Rarity. I just can't read fancy."
"Fancy?"
Applejack pointed to the painting's caption.
"Oh! You mean French! Ah, now I understand. My apologies, darling- I should have translated before. You just didn't understand the context, that's all! Here, look. 'Ceci n'est pas un pomme,' roughly parsed into the vernacular, says 'This is not an apple.' The translation's a little rough, mind you- I'm not...entirely fluent, but I know enough to get by. Still, for the circumstances, I think you understand, no?" 
"Uh." Applejack scratched her head. "Now I'm just gettin' more confused. I mean...ya said it's not an apple. But it is an apple. Lookit!" Applejack pointed at the painting. "That's an apple. Round. Got a stem on it. Good color. Nearly ripe enough for buckin', iffin I ain't wrong. And iffin' there's anythin' I know, it's apples."
"Ah! But that's it!" said Rarity. "Don't you see? It's not an apple. That's why it's so delicious! Artistically speaking, that is."
"Say what?"
"Think of it this way. Applejack, are you hungry?"
"Welp, now that ya mention it, I'm a trifle peckish. Them horse-devours-"
"Hors d'oeuvres, you mean?"
"Whatevers they were, them weren't nearly 'nuff for dinner. I think these high-falutin' schindig's would be a lot better iffin' somepony had enough sense ta bring some sandwiches or fritters or somethin. You'd think with all the deep pockets rollin' 'round, somepony'd spring for proper catering."
"Well, putting that aside, dear,...think about it. You're hungry. I bet you'd like an apple, wouldn't you? Something properly juicy and delicious, no?"
"Shoot, now that ya say so, that would hit the spot..."
"Well, there you are, then." Rarity smiled knowingly, and pointed to the painting. "There's your apple. Dig in."
"What."
"Don't you see?"
"Rarity, you sure you haven't been hittin' the open bar too hard? I can't eat a paintin'."
"Aha!" Rarity laughed, delightedly. "That's it exactly! You can't eat a painting. You can eat an apple. And this," Rarity waved one hoof arily at the canvas on the gallery wall. "This is not an apple. Just like the caption said. Do you see?"
Applejack looked from Rarity, to the painting, and then back to Rarity.  "Mmmnope." The cowpony shifted nervously from one hoof to the other. "Sorry Rarity, I'm just not very arty, I guess."
"Oh please, Applejack. Don't sell yourself short! You just haven't had the opportunity to broaden your horizons, that's all. Which is why I brought you here, darling." Rarity reached up to stroke Applejack's cheek with a gentle hoof. "Not to mention these gallery openings are so much more enjoyable with the proper company."
"Iffin' you say so." Applejack smiled wanly. "I mean, I ain't ever been to anythin' as fancypants highfalutin' as this. But, it ain't really what I thought it'd be like, either. I mean, I thought all the paintin's would be, um, different. Y'know, like, more paintin's of normal stuff. Like vases of flowers, or ponies sittin' on couches all-" Applejack suddenly stopped, and freckled cheeks flushed red.
"Oh?" Rarity said. She slyly slowed the single syllable 'til it sounded seriously salacious. "What was that about ponies on couches?"
"Uh. Nothin'." Applejack's blush deepened.
"Applejack, you're a terrible liar."
"Fine." Applejack said, pulling in a breath. "I was talkin' 'bout them old arty pictures where the pony's sittin' on it all...y'know. Come-hither-y. Or she's walkin' outta a seashell for some reason n' there's tiny li'l pegasuses holdin' banners in the background and....stuff. Y'know. Art. This? This stuff's just kinda...confusin'. And this paintin' actually looks like somethin'! Half of the stuff on the walls here looks like somepony just spilled the paint can or whatever."
“That's the point, darling. Not all art has to look like something. And, as while...ponies on couches, as you put it, do hold some artistic merit, it's just too...traditional, if you ask me. Now this?” Rarity pointed to the canvas, “This is fascinating. It's so avant garde!” 
“Beg pardon?”
“It's fresh! It's new! It's exciting!”
“It's confusin'.”
“I know.” Rarity brimmed with enthusiasm. “Such thematic uncertainty! Isn't it grand? It's what Art is for!”
“It is?” Applejack turned to look over an intricately-detailed painting of a soup can. “I thought it was to, y'know, look purty and stuff.”
“Of course, there's an aesthetic value to certain works. It's expected- particularly when works in a medium such as mine.” Rarity smiled, knowingly. “Why, I wouldn't be nearly as successful as I am right now if I didn't make everypony who walked into my boutique look absolutely beautiful.”
“Whattabout that one time ya made them dresses the way me n' Fluttershy n' Twilight n' Rainbow n' Pinkie wanted, n' then everypony laughed at ya?”
“Ah.” Rarity's expression fell. “Yes. That. In that case, I might note I was only following what was requested of me. By my best friends. Because that's what they wanted.”
“Eheh. Yeah. Uh. Sorry 'bout that.” Applejack scratched the back of her neck. 
“Regardless!” Rarity said, “that's all behind us now. And entirely beside the point.”
“So what is the point?”
“The point is,” Rarity smiled, and pointed to the canvas, “this is not an apple.”
Applejack stared at the painting. Harder. “Mmmnope, still don't get it. Sorry?”
“No need to apologize, darling.” Rarity said, even if the unconsciously haughty tilt of her nose  implied there was. 
“Lookit, maybe I'm just...uh, distracted, that's it.” Applejack said, “here, lemme just make a quick visit to the li'l fillies room, n' I'll look at yer apple-picture even harder when I get back, 'kay?” The cowpony turned on a hoof and meandered off in search of a restroom before Rarity could reply. This itself was a bit of a blessing, Rarity realized, as she had absolutely no idea how to respond to such a statement. She sighed (only slightly melodramatically) and plucked a wineglass from the tray of a passing waiter. Not for the first time, she wondered why she'd brought Applejack to the gallery opening in the first place. On the one hoof, Rarity'd been wanting to spend some more time with her, and there was a rather conspicous “and guest” listed on the invitation. On the other...well, Applejack seemed bored, at best, but at least she was trying. Of course, it was terribly bad form to drag one's...companion to an event they wouldn't enjoy. Unless, of course, Applejack knew she wouldn't have a good time, in which case her attendance could be seen as a sign of dedication, which Rarity found equal parts flattering and concerning. 
Before Rarity could dwell on the subject further, she heard someone calling her name.
“Ah, Rarity.” The older unicorn strutted across the gallery floor with all the confidence of the exceedingly wealthy and the slightly drunk. “Such a pleasure to see you.”
“Upper Crust!” Rarity switched on her best high society smile. “I didn't know you were stopping by.”
“Neither did I.” Upper Crust flicked her mane back, not bothering to meet Rarity's eyes. “It was merely a slow night, and I thought I'd stop by. You know how it goes.”
“Oh, yes.” Rarity said, even as she recalled the long train ride from Ponyville to Canterlot, and the proverbial hoops she'd had to proveribally jump through to get an invitation to the gallery opening.  “One's got to find some way to pass the time, no? Though, if you don't mind my asking-” she craned her head, trying (and failing) to look past the other unicorn. “Did Jet Set come with you?”
“I'm afraid not.” Upper Crust said. “He had something pop up. His business at the firm keeps him quite busy, you know.”
“A shame. He's always such pleasant company.” Rarity lied, as she was obliged to do.
“He is, yes. Still, there's something a little...liberating in attending one of these functions on one's own.” The corner of Upper Crust's mouth turned upwards in a calculated smirk. “I mean, it's almost a state of enlightenment- some ponies just get so...desperate that they'll bring anypony with them, just so they can say they're not alone.”
Rarity narrowed her eyes at the taller unicorn. “I wouldn't know.”
“Of course you wouldn't.” Upper Crust said. “But haven't you seen her?”
“Who?”
“You know. The pony with the hat.”
“You're...not referring to me, are you?” Rarity reached up and tilted her beret to the proper gallery-viewing angle. 
“No no, not you. If I were talking about you, you'd know it.” Upper Crust said. “Honestly, as sharp as you are, I would've thought you'd noticed by now. Or didn't you see her?  Earth pony, blonde mane...some sort of...rustic hat. I cannot fathom why she's here.”
“Well, isn't that interesting.” Rarity narrowed her eyes. “As it would just so happen that my...dear friend Applejack is in attendance, and she does have a penchant for more...practical headgear.  And I would be terribly, terribly aggrieved if somepony were to take issue with her attendance.”
“Perish the thought!” Upper Crust held a hoof to her chest. “Why, you know me, Miss Rarity. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Still, certain tongues may wag- not for your friend's choice in fashion, but rather...well, you've just got to look at her.”
“And whatever are you trying to say?” Rarity's voice was icy enough to frost glass.
“I'm not saying anything, Rarity.” Upper Crust shrugged. “Opinions are quite unfashionable, you know. I'm just making a few key observations, is all. Really, you should be glad I'm the one observing. You never know what somepony else might say.”
“No, you never do. Still, Applejack's...not entirely out of place, you know. You wouldn't think it to look at her, but she's got quite the sophisticate streak in her. Why, did you know she spent some time in Manehattan as a filly?”
“Rarity, everyone's spent time in Manehattan. The help has spent time in Manehattan. Haven't you?” Upper Crust turned to one of the passing waiters (the only notice she'd given to them all evening). The waiter nodded silently, though whether or not in agreement with Upper Crust or just as an excuse to get out of her way remained up for debate. 
“Ah. Yes.” Rarity said. “Still, my friend is...quite the sophisticate, you know.”
“Hey Rarity!” Applejack's voice cut through the polite murmur of the art gallery with all the subtlety of a piece of farm equipment. “Lookit here! I found some real art! It's got a bowl of fruit n' everything!”
“Is she?” Upper Crust arched one brow. “She seems...opinionated.”
“Of course she is!” Rarity blurted, “why she's got more talent in her hind hoof than a good many so-called-artistes that I could name.” 
“Is that so?” Upper Crust angled her ears forward by a few critical degrees, switching from 'politely attentive' to 'vaguely interested.' 
Suddenly, Rarity became well aware of several other ponies who were decidedly not eavesdropping on the conversation. She forced a cultured laugh.
“That....is so.” Rarity stalled by draining her wineglass. “Of course, I shall decline to name said names, for politeness' sake. But...yes. My dear friend Applejack is something of a prodigy when it comes to painting, you know. It's just that she's terribly shy about it. Yes.” Rarity surprised herself as she spun the lie, each word building momentum like a snowball careening downhill “In fact, so shy, you shouldn't ask her about it. Ever. It's...that artistic temperment, you know. She's...just waiting for the best moment to make her debut. Which may or may not be anytime soon. But, rest assured, once she gets over her particular personal hangups, it's going to be...big.”
“Big?” Upper Crust echoed.
“Huge!”
“Coming from any other pony, Miss Rarity, I would dare think such a notion to be...exageratted.  Only slightly.”
“I like to think I'm just slightly more reliable than 'any other pony.'” Rarity took a step forward, and stood a little taller. “Why, I've even heard Princess Celestia herself heap praise upon Applejack. At length.” Which, Rarity reminded herself, was entirely true- even if it had nothing to do with Applejack's hypothetical artistic talents (or lack therof). 
“Well!” Upper Crust said, “I have to thank you, Rarity, as I wouldn't have known otherwise.”
“No need to thank me, darling.” Rarity smiled. “As honestly, this is the sort of thing best kept between you and I, hm?” She added a conspiritorial wink, just to make sure Upper Crust would tell everypony she knew. “Remember. Artistic temperment. Applejack hates talking about art. In fact, she's so opinionated, she barely deigns to recognize any of the more popular modern trends. Too mainstream, you know.”
“I see.” Upper Crust said, “I'll just have to keep that in mind, Rarity. Thank you for enlightening me.”
“Any time!” Rarity forced her smile a little wider. “Don't be a stranger, dear. Always a pleasure to talk to you.” She lied, politely.
As Upper Crust faded into the crowd, Rarity slumped her shoulders and looked around to see where Applejack had gotten off to- or, barring that, the nearest drink-bearing waiter. Rarity briefly hoped she might even find both in the same place. After just a few minutes, she found flute of champagne, but Applejack herself had faded into the background somewhere. Rarity wondered how such a loud and opinionated earth pony could disappear so easily. Rarity huffed, and began heading deeper into the gallery to continue her search- the place was small enough that she knew she could find Applejack in just a few minutes, provided no more distractions popped up. 
This is, of course, when Fancy Pants made an appearance. “Miss Rarity!” He was, as one would expect, impeccably dressed. “What a pleasant surprise! To be honest, I should have expected you here.” 
“Oh!” Rarity's lips turned up in a sly smile, “Of your many talents, Fancy Pants, I was unaware precognition was one of them.” Rarity fought down the urge to swear; the only thing worse than running into someone you didn't like at a proper social function was running into someone you did. At least, such was the case whenever one had something important to do. 
“Precognition? No. Intuition. Though really, it doesn't take a crystal ball to assume a lady as charming and cultured as yourself to attend the premiere art opening of the season. I'm glad you could make it all the way from Ponyville.”
“That makes two of us,” said Rarity. 
“Still, Miss Rarity, even I couldn't have predicted your choice in company. Your friend's causing quite a stir, you know.”
“Oh no.” Rarity paled (which, given her immaculately-kept white coat, was saying something). “What did Applejack do?”
“Oh, it's not what she's doing. It's what everypony else is. I dare say, everypony in the gallery is keeping an eye on her. From a distance, mind you. It's like they're just waiting for her to do...something.”
“Something like...what?” Rarity's mouth went desert-dry, despite the wine she'd been quaffing. 
“Nopony's sure yet,” said Fancy Pants, “but something tells me we'll see soon enough.”