((Prompt: Lyrics to the song “I'll Cover You,” from Rent.))
Applejack double-checked to make certain she hadn't forgotten anything. Her saddlebag contained a blanket and a spare set of hair-ties. She had already seen Apple Bloom off to Sweetie Belle's place for the night, with instructions to meet her at Sugarcube Corner for breakfast the next morning. Big Mac and Granny Smith were staying with their neighbors the Carrots, where Granny would no doubt relive all the old family rivalries with the matron of the household right up to both their bedtimes at eight thirty. Applejack hoped there would be no biting this time.
She blew a strand of hair from her face. If she was forgetting anything, she wasn't remembering it just yet. She raised her hoof to knock on the door.
Her hoof connected with nothing as the door of Sugarcube Corner swung open. Pinkie Pie's grin somehow filled the entire doorway. “Applejack!” she greeted. “Welcome to your 'The Farmhouse is Getting Fumigated So You're Homeless For a Night' party!”
Applejack smiled and bowed her head. “I sure do appreciate ya puttin' me up for the night, sugarcube.” She stepped forward, expecting her friend to let her pass.
Pinkie remained in place. “Ah-ah-ah,” she said, waving her hoof. “I can't let you in without paying the cover charge! I gotta keep these parties going somehow!”
“Cover charge?” Applejack blinked in confusion. She nosed open her saddlebags. “Shoot, I'm sorry, Pinkie, I think I left my bitpurse on the dresser back at home. I don't s'pose I can pay you back tomorrow?”
Pinkie giggled, shaking her head. “Bits aren't what keeps parties going, silly!”
Applejack shifted from one hoof to the other. “Huh. Maybe I ain't entirely clear on what a cover charge is.”
“A sum paid by attendees of a party or event to the host of that party or event to compensate for the costs incurred from preparing said party or event,” Pinkie recited.
“But ya don't want bits,” Applejack said, a puzzled frown on her face.
“Nope!”
Applejack rubbed her chin. Her ears fell a little. “I... huh. I thought ya said you wanted me here. If ya don't, if it's too much trouble, that's okay. I mean, the Carrots still got room.”
Pinkie's grin faded. “What? No! No, no, of course I want you here, AJ! I really, really want—” She stopped and fidgeted uncomfortably, licking her lips.
A hint of frustration crept into Applejack's tone. “Well then, what is it ya want, hon? I'm a bit tired, an' I'd like to take these saddlebags off.”
Pinkie glanced back and forth. “What is it that every party has?”
“Sugar?”
“Pizza parties don't have sugar,” Pinkie said. “What is there that a party isn't a party without?”
Applejack lifted her hat to scratch her head. “Music? Do ya want me ta sing for ya, sugarcube?”
“Well, I always want you to sing for me,” Pinkie giggled, “but that isn't it. Think, Applejack. What could I never, ever throw a party ever if I didn't have?”
“Uhh, balloons?” she guessed.
Pinkie threw up her hooves in defeat. She grabbed Applejack behind the neck and pulled her in close. Her lips met Applejack's with a wet smack. The farm pony's hat fell to the ground as her eyes went as wide as grapefruits.
“Love, silly,” Pinkie purred into her ear, stroking a hoof through Applejack's golden mane. “I need love.”
A moment passed while Applejack stared at her friend in shock. She brought a hoof up to feel her lips—in part, to make certain they were still there. She looked into the depths of Pinkie's bright blue eyes.
Applejack's eyelids sank to half-mast. She wrapped her hooves around Pinkie, and paid her cover charge in full.
Pinkie lay on the floor, something halfway between a gasp and a chuckle on her breath as Applejack picked her hat back up and stepped inside. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the indoor lighting.
When they did, she found Fluttershy sinking into the cushions of the couch. Her fully-spread wings kept her from disappearing entirely into the furniture like it appeared she was trying to. Instead of a face, she had one big, bright red blush.
Applejack glanced back and forth between her two friends. She coughed into her hoof. “Did, uh... did she make you pay the cover charge, too?”
The couch squeaked.