Rainbow Dash nods her head, staring with a daring grin at the house in front of them.
Party.
It’s a good word. Sure, there are better words out there – fast, beer, win, ass – but party is a pretty good one. Party can be a good shortcut to those other things.
“...Ugh. Party,” Twilight says, shivering next to her.
Dash throws an arm around her shoulders. “Just chill, egghead. You’ll have fun, I promise.”
Twilight raises an eyebrow at her, stiffening up under her arm. “Having fun is what I’m worried about.”
Rainbow Dash shrinks and hugs herself closer to Twilight, suddenly hanging off her. “Yeah, well... I promise about that, too.”
Twilight starts to cringe away from her, but catches herself. She takes a deep breath, and gives Rainbow Dash that look, that awful, sad look.
I don’t know if I believe you.
“Hey,” Dash shakes her a little. She’d had to suffer through a whole morning of that look after last time. Not cool. “Come on. You’re my girl. You really think I’m gonna break a promise?”
“...No?” Twilight says hopefully.
“Damn straight. That’s how The Rainbow Dash rolls. Her word is her law. Loyal to the end!”
Twilight rolls her eyes. “Please don’t call yourself the Rainbow Dash.”
Rainbow Dash frowns, preparing to protest.
“For me?” Twilight says, giving her a very different look. A tempting, confusing look.
That’s more like it. “Alright, fine,” Dash says. “Because it’s you.”
“Because you...” Twilight trails off, nervously muttering something.
“What?”
“...Because you love me?” Twilight says, giving her the most painful look of all. The sad one. For once, it doesn’t instantly break Dash’s heart – she’s too busy cringing inside.
Eww L-word, eww.
“Uh... yyyyyyyyyyyyyyeah...” Rainbow Dash says, looking around. “Hey, there they are!”
A beat up old truck pulls up to the curb near them, edging in between all the other cheap cars. The streetlamps and shadows make it hard to see right away, but Mac is unmistakably at the wheel, with Fluttershy in the middle seat, happily squeezed up next to him. And next to them?
Twilight stiffens up again. “Is that... did you invite her?!”
Don’t lie don’t lie don’t lie
“Uh...”
What are you talking about?! LIE.
“I didn’t really invite her. I was talking about it with Fluttershy, and Mac.. and she was there, and I was like, sure, it’s cool, you can come too.”
Twilight deflates, her shoulders sinking as her face betrays utter, lost hopelessness. It’s only there for a second, though – she flares right back up, stabbing Dash with her eyes.
“What was I supposed to say?!” Rainbow Dash says, throwing her hands up.
“...Strike one,” Twilight says.
No fair! Sports are MY thing.
Dash shrugs and shoves her hands into her pockets. Fine, whatever – she’d already told Twilight a dozen times she wasn’t really that into the farmgirl. Sure, Applejack seems cool and all, totally solid babe, great to knock back a beer with her.
HOT. Also hot. Unbelievably hot.
She glares at the truck.
Stupid, sexy Applejack.
It’s still hard to see – is that even Applejack with them? It can’t be, there’s somebody sitting on somebody else’s lap, crammed into the last seat available, and that girl can not be Applejack. Applejack is blonde.
The truck door opens, and somebody who is definitely not Applejack steps out. Rainbow Dash’s eyes shoot wide open.
LEGS holy crap!
Legs forever. Long, slender, pale, and going up and up and on up. Rainbow Dash’s eyes keep rising, powerless, past...
Jeez what is that dress even?
It’s something. Tight and black and showy, and Dash can’t help but think she’s seen it before. This girl is rocking it, along with her gaudy jewelry and flawless makeup and... wow. That is some hair. Her head is topped with a ridiculously huge black bun, with plenty left flowing down the sides.
“I cannot believe I just did that,” the girl says angrily, climbing out of Applejack’s lap with not-quite grace. Rainbow Dash stares shamelessly – cleavage too, and lots of it – but she loses interest the moment she sees Applejack’s costume.
Half a costume, more like it. A red-and-gold corset, half-hidden under a beat-up leather jacket. She’s still got the the same blue jeans as ever, but now they’re paired with a lasso on her belt and dusty cowboy boots.
Half-assed Wonder Woman outfit? HOT.
“Well, what?” Applejack says, also angrily, climbing out after the new girl. “There’re only three seats! What, did you want me to sit in your lap?”
“I would’ve much preferred to sit in Fluttershy’s lap,” she says, making a show of brushing herself off and straightening her dress.
Fluttershy and Mac come around from the other side of the truck, holding hands. They’re dressed as Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion, if the Cowardly Lion was a big red-headed guy in normal clothes and fake ears and tail. “Um...” Fluttershy starts to say, holding up a finger.
“She was in the middle!” Applejack yells. “You can’t sit on her lap if she’s in the middle, that’s just crazy talk.”
“Why couldn’t you have driven? I thought it was your truck?” the elegant newcomer asks.
“Look, I’m gettin’ drunk, and that means Mac takes the wheel,” Applejack explains.
“Ugh, are you sure you aren’t already?” she says, lifting her chin and theatrically pinching her nose. “And when was the last time you showered?”
Applejack grunts, looking like she can’t quite remember. She lifts one arm and sniffs at herself.
“Not that you would notice,” the other girl says.
“I’d be surprised if I could smell anything over all that perfume you’re wearin’.”
Twilight and Dash glance at each other, not used to being ignored so thoroughly. Fluttershy and Mac join them with silent waves, which they return.
“It’s called basic hygiene. I’m not surprised you don’t know what it smells like.”
“It doesn’t smell like a –” Applejack catches herself, but Rainbow Dash could swear the word whore was next on her lips. “Sorry all, uh... this here is...”
“Rarity,” she cuts in, posing like a model on the runway. “My apologies, Applejack here can be quite distracting. Honestly, I don’t know how all of you put up with her. Very kind of you.”
“She’s not so bad,” Twilight says. Applejack gives her a huh kind of look, followed by a pleased nod. “I’m Twilight, nice to meet you. And this is...”
“Rainbow Dash,” she says, waving half-heartedly.
“Twilight, I love your toga!” Rarity gushes, jumping right into her personal space.
Rainbow Dash instinctively rolls her eyes.
“Very bold for not being at a toga party,” Rarity says, inspecting the fabric carefully. “is that actually wool?”
“It’s more historically accurate,” Twilight says, smug and proud.
“Indeed.” Rarity turns to Rainbow Dash, as an afterthought. “And you are...?”
“Rainbow Dash.” She poses proudly, puffing her chest out. “Duh.”
Twilight lightly elbows her in the ribs. Still mad, then. Whatever.
Like I was really gonna dress up as Commander Hurricane. Couple costume? Ewwwww.
“I see. Very pleased to meet all of...” Rarity starts to say.
“We’re dating,” Twilight says, nudging Rainbow Dash.
Rarity stops mid-word, blinking at them.
“Me and her. Girlfriends,” Twilight adds, leaning against Dash.
“Uh... yeah, just.. y’know. Going out. Heh!” Rainbow Dash says, feeling awkward wrapping around every word.
“Oh.” Rarity stares blankly at them, then lights up. “How lovely! Are you both students? I don’t think I’ve seen either of you around campus?”
“What, you spend a lot of time there?” Applejack cuts in, before either of them answer.
“Yes, and I’ll have you know...”
And then they’re off, walking towards the house in a constant stream of bickering. Mac and Fluttershy follow along, barely phased at all, in fact barely indicating that anyone else in the world exists but the two of them. Rainbow Dash shrugs and falls in behind, with Twilight hovering at her side.
“See?” Dash says. “Nothing to worry about. She brought her own date.”
Twilight lightly elbows her in the ribs. “Haha. Just... please don’t hit on her?”
“Who, HER?”
Jeez, how bad does she think I am?
Rainbow Dash hadn’t even considered it, really. This new girl is definitely not her type – she has high maintenance written all over her, probably hiding a nasty case of rich bitch.
Still hot, though.
Heh, yeah, man can you imagine? Nothing like a crazy bitch in the sack, right?
No no no STOP!
Rainbow Dash puts her arm around Twilight again, this time sneaking it down to her waist. “No problem.”
“You mean it this time?”
“Promise.”
Twilight seems satisfied, but she keeps staring at the new girl.
“What is she, anyway?” Rainbow Dash asks.
“Elvira, I think,” Twilight says.
“Huh?”
“Yes, definitely. Look at the sleeves,” Twilight says, nodding at the long black sleeves ending in ragged tatters.
“Yeah... sure.” Rainbow Dash nods as if she has any idea what that means. “So... you think that’s a wig?”
“Oh my gosh I didn’t want to ask!” Twilight says. “It looks like one.”
“I bet it isn’t. She looks like an eighties kind of girl.”
“Eww.” Twilight shakes her head. “I hope it isn’t.”
“Why don’t you go ask?”
Twilight clams right up, because of course she’d never ask.
Dash grins to herself – so maybe Twilight isn’t the usual kind of company Dash keeps. Hell, she’s more like Fluttershy sometimes – she likes to do quiet things, stay in and watch a movie or... you know, boring junk.
I mean... weird, but... you know, alright. I guess.
Rainbow Dash starts to remember, fondly, starts to get the hint of a strange, gentle smile she doesn’t really know how to wear. But then they step inside.
Awwwwww yeah... party.
Loud music, and beer, and dark, and it stinks. Rainbow Dash takes a deep breath, puffing her chest out.
...Awesome!
They squeeze their way past people crammed into what might be a dingy living room, stopping every half-second for Dash to nod or say hello or high-five, everyone happy to see her. She might not be captain of the team yet, but everyone knows what’s going to happen.
“Yeah, chug it down, Flitter!” Dash yells, nodding proudly at one of the freshman. She’s a good kid, that one, gonna be a great part of the team once she gets her legs under her. Not bad with a funnel, either.
“Nice flexibility, Cloudchaser!” Dash waves to make sure she got the girl’s attention – her teammate is showing off in a small clearing of people, bending her leg up and over her head easily. Their eyes meet and Cloudchaser’s cocky smile slides into a different kind of confident, smug and knowing and hot.
Man, that was awesome. Gotta hook up with her again someti-
“Whoa! A little too much flexibility, Blossomforth,” Dash yells, to nobody in particular since Blossomforth is making out with some guy right there in the doorway. “Hey, somebody get these two a room!”
She can feel Twilight against her, clingy and nervous and dragging along like dead weight, walking on careful tiptoes. Dash sighs quietly, covered up by the noise all around them – would it kill her to just loosen up a little? A girl like Twilight, you’d think all she needs is one good fuck and then she can –
“Rainbow Dash!”
Dash’s head snaps to the voice, because it is the voice. Her eyes light up, and she unconsciously squeezes Twilight, hard.
“Spitfire!”
“You made it.” The captain of the team, champion of their division, destined for pro greatness Spitfire slides up to them, all effortless cool.
And then she hands Dash a beer.
“Glad you did,” Spitfire says, maybe handing Twilight a beer, Dash isn’t sure because she isn’t looking because oh my god Spitfire. “Somebody’s gotta keep these kids in line once I graduate.”
“Ha! Heh heh. Yeah. Uh,” Dash stammers, feeling weird numbness in her tongue.
Talk you idiot talk say something cool say something cool
“You... uh... you been picked up yet?”
“Not quite.” Spitfire rests one hand on her hips, looking out over the crowd like a proud general. “Got a few offers. Leaving my options open tonight.”
Tonight?!
Dash gulps, then forces herself to take an instantly-forgotten drink. “Not what I meant, Captain.”
Spitfire looks her right in the eye, pulling her aviators down a bit, the leather of her bomber jacket creaking loudly.
Of course she’s wearing those shades, goddamn her eyes are so hot, fuckin’ eyes on FIRE
“I know,” she says, smirking at Dash. “And don’t call me Captain.”
Dash melts instantly. A year, over a year, of hearing that voice, even hotter when it’s stern and barking, telling her to call her Captain. Every time.
She’s gotten off to memories of that voice.
I mean, is she? I thought she wasn’t. But that was totally...
“And who’s this?” Spitfire says, holding a hand out to the girl lingering on Dash’s arm. “Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.” It’s a whole different girl speaking to Twilight, professional and polite.
“I’m–”
“This is Twilight!” Dash blurts out. “My... friend.”
“Friend, huh?” Spitfire says, mocking disappointment. “And I was about to say how nice it was to see you not fraternizing for once.”
Dash freezes up, her arm around Twilight alive with panicked pins and needles. Can’t drop it, of course, not without facing certain doom later.
But... but... SPITFIRE.
“Girlfriend,” Twilight says, quietly stomping on Dash’s foot.
Spitfire does a double take. “Wow, really?” She leans in close to Twilight, and Dash feels herself hold back a jealous whine. “How’d you do that?”
“Ongoing process,” Twilight says, flat and clinical.
“Nicely done. You be careful with this heartbreaker, though. And you –” Spitfire turns to Dash, still close, Dash could swear she can feel heat from the fire her hair looks like. “You play nice. That’s an order.”
“Yes... Ma’am?”
“Proud of you, kid.” Spitfire lightly punches Dash’s arm. “I was gonna take a shot at you if you ever calmed down. Guess I missed my chance,” Spitfire says, looking strangely happy about it.
Dash blinks. The wind’s been knocked out of her, sheer dumb-faced shock the only thing keeping her jaw from hanging open.
“You two have fun.”
And then she’s gone, and Rainbow Dash is left, for once, without a single damn thing to say. She just blinks and stares at Spitfire’s blazing hair and perfect ass and her everything.
And then a sharp, sarcastic elbow jabs her in the ribs.
“Ow!” Dash jolts, remembering the girl at her side. “Hey!”
“Friend?” Twilight steps out of Dash’s grasp, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
“Oh, what?” Dash throws her arms up, spilling a little beer on the floor. “You want me to just blurt out first thing, ‘We’re dating’? Awkward.”
“You could at least pretend to try to not want to f...” Twilight trails off, her crossed arms becoming a nervous self-hug.
Rainbow Dash shrugs and sulks. “I didn’t do anything with Spitfire.”
“What about Cloudchaser?”
Rainbow Dash just blinks again.
“I was right next to you the whole time, Dash,” Twilight says. “If you’re just going to flirt with other girls all night, I’m going home.”
“Okay listen, me and Cloudchaser was like... a year ago. Not fair.”
Twilight softens a little – Dash knows that if there’s one thing this girl loves more than science, it’s things being fair. Reasonable.
Rainbow Dash takes her hand, pulling it out of her indignant pose. “She still comes on to me sometimes, but I’m done. Got something a lot better.”
And there it is – Twilight’s eyes light up, softly, and that little smile comes back.
But again, only for a second. Twilight squeezes her hand tight. “Still,” she says, almost as stern as Spitfire.
Rainbow Dash sighs loudly, her shoulders sinking low. “Strike two?”
Twilight nods, nose high in the air.
“Okay yeah, but...” Rainbow Dash drops her hand. “Come ON. Do you even know who that was?”
“Captain Spitfire, I presume,” Twilight says, rolling her eyes.
“Hell yeah.” Rainbow Dash can’t help but grinning. “I’d dump anybody for a shot with her. I’d dump me for a shot with her. She’s like my celebrity exception.”
“Celebrity?” Twilight asks, thoroughly unimpressed.
“Yeah, you know. My boyfriend back in high school always said he’d dump me in a second if he ever got a chance with Fleur de Lis.”
“...What?” Twilight asks.
“Fleur, you know, that model in all the –”
“No I know who she is – boyfriend?”
“Whatever, it was high school.” Rainbow Dash waves it off. “Point is, Spitfire is like... man. Freaking... wow. No offense or anything, but... wow. Don’t you think she’s hot?”
Twilight grimaces. “She seems really, uh... confident.”
“Right? I mean hell, if you were like, ‘Dash, I’m leaving you for Spitfire’, I’d be like, ‘No problem. Totally understand.’”
“I don’t think she’s really my type,” Twilight says.
“Well who’s yours then?”
Twilight’s eyes get huge for a moment, filling her glasses. “What?”
Those are so cute, why doesn’t she wear them more?
“Who’s your exception?” Dash says.
Twilight seems to think for a second, chewing on her lower lip. “...Hypatia of Alexandria?”
“Aw yeah, see, you know what I’m... wait, who?” Dash says.
“Nevermind.” Twilight takes a second to shake her head and pinch the bridge of her nose. “I’m finding a bathroom.”
She hands Dash her untouched drink. Dash, for once, just stands there, cold beers burning into each hand. She just blinks and stares at Twilight’s long blue hair and her cute little butt disappearing into the crowd.
She feels a tiny, guttering glimmer of something in her feelings, a small spark fighting to catch. Because she does like Twilight, of course she does, that nerd had turned out to be far more fun than she could’ve imagined. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance that The Dash has some changes to make.
But the spark dies out – I mean, Twilight’s hot and all, but come on. Spitfire. Once in a lifetime shot. Not that Rainbow Dash is going to go after it, because she promised.
Dammit.
But you couldn’t hold it against her to talk about it. That’s just being honest – Rainbow Dash wants to fuck Spitfire. She’s with Twilight, but fucking Spitfire would be awesome. Twilight would understand. Hell, anybody with a pulse would understand.
I don’t get it – what does she want me to do, lie?
Dash shrugs to herself. Thinking too much. Waste of time.
She wanders instead, soaking up admiration left and right. This is what every party should be – a chance for everyone to tell Rainbow Dash just how damn awesome she is. You know, getting it straight. Just for the record. Yeah, number one party dyke, in the house. Two beers – that is so Rainbow Dash. Lock up your panties, ladies, Rainbow Dash is on the prowl, and she IS gonna make you question a lot of things.
She’s grinning by the time she’s left the room, nodding her head and basking in it. She coasts into a hallway, peeking into the next room down. Gotta be more of her teammates in here, or maybe a few hot freshmen co-eds to pick over, or maybe even...
“Oh, come on,” Applejack’s voice drifts out to her.
Bingo.
Dash pushes her way into the room – there, on the other side of the room. AJ is easy to pick out, tall and strong and miles apart from the usual suspects around her. She doesn’t notice Rainbow Dash, because she’s far too busy glaring at that new girl.
Whatever her name was. Something -ity.
Whoever she is, she’s holding court in this room, a circle of obvious admirers drinking up every word she says. It’s not just the guys, either – plenty of young women are eagerly listening and laughing and complimenting, really laughing, not that fake party stuff.
Rainbow Dash stays quiet, somehow. She almost makes a loud entrance, because what kind of crap is this? People paying attention to something that isn’t Rainbow Dash? But she doesn’t. She doesn’t, because Applejack is far too good to interrupt.
The blonde girl is furious. Well, maybe not furious, but not exactly not furious. She’s hovering outside Rarity’s circle, peering in like she was fed up with the whole thing years ago. Every gushing bit of praise sets her eyes rolling. Every drunk freshman introducing himself sets her brow more furrowed. She looks like she’s about to throw her arms up and storm off.
But she isn’t.
Rainbow Dash chuckles quietly – it’s just too good. Applejack, tearing herself up over this girly prima donna – and there’s no way they’re dating, not with AJ wound up like this. No, this is a frustrated farmgirl.
Is Hot Legs straight? Oh no, I bet they’re... just friends. Heh.
Or maybe they slept together a few times and AJ can’t move on. And that’s another thing – since when are they dating? Like, really dating? Last thing Rainbow Dash remembers, she was fingering the hell out of some random girl who’d been staring at her ass for months, and now it’s like they’re married or something.
Come on. She’s pretty awesome.
Okay, maybe not... random. Maybe she’d always wanted to finger Twilight in a bathroom, to see that prissy nerd let her hair down and moan for once. And then the adorable thing had just kind of lingered, wanting more of Dash, wanting to be around her all the time, calling her up at random times to sheepishly ask if Fluttershy was going out that night, maybe they could do a movie or... whatever.
She was clingy. Awkward. Dorky.
But Dash hadn’t tossed her away without a second though.
Instead she’d found herself promising she wouldn’t go after other girls, where any other time she would’ve told Twilight to just deal with it or leave, because you can’t bottle this lightning.
It’s not like she actually wanted a girlfriend. Not now, in the middle of college, best hunting grounds there ever will be. So what if Twilight was a pretty awesome fit for the job? Her timing was all wrong.
“At least she isn’t Professor Luna,” Rarity says, snapping Rainbow Dash out of it. “Do you know I actually saw her break a student’s phone? She just took it out of his hands, dropped it on the floor, and crushed it. Just like that,” she says, grinding one of her heels into the rug.
The students surrounding her pause.
...Professor Luna? I’ve heard of her, isn’t she...?
“...Doesn’t she teach evening classes?” one of the students says for Dash.
Rarity jolts, letting out one carefully calculated laugh. “Does she? Perhaps that explains the grumpiness,” she says. “It was an awfully annoying ringtone, in her defense.”
“She only teaches evening classes,” one of the girls says. “My advisor said she kept getting in trouble when she taught undergrads. Now it’s continuing-ed only.”
“Whoa,” a fratboy next to Rarity says. He had been leaning in close, but his posture backs off instantly. “Are you like, a part-time student?”
“I have a full course load!” Rarity snaps, wincing as she can’t hold in the last part. “...Technically.”
A few people leave the room, muttering something about getting more drinks.
“Wait, wait,” another girl says, slurring and giggling, “Hold on, you’re not a student? Are you like, a professor or something? Oh shit.”
“I am not a professor. Do I look old enough to be a professor?” Rarity says in a sudden huff.
“Yeah but... you’re not a student, though? You’re eighteen, right?” the fratboy asks.
Rarity turns on him, eyes lit up and ready to cut him to pieces, but Applejack foolishly chooses that moment to step in.
“So what if she ain’t?” Applejack says, shouldering her way next to Rarity. “I mean, maybe she ain’t a student like you all, regular like. It’s only ‘cause she owns that beautiful store downtown. She’s got more to be proud of than you lot, buncha overgrown kids treatin’ college like a damn daycare. Y’all should be proud of her, workin’ her butt off like that an’ then takin’ classes at night to boot.”
Silence. All the biting wit that Rarity had been about to turn on the brawny dude next to her turns to shocked panic, staring aghast at the farmgirl.
“I mean... that ain’t easy, right?” Applejack says, shrinking only a little under the sudden heat of all eyes on her. “An’ what do you kids even do, aside from fuck around?”
“Applejack please shut up,” Rarity growls quietly through a grin.
“She even pays her own way,” Applejack says, distinctly not shutting up. “I bet not a one of you brats works even half as hard as this girl right here.”
Somebody in the room snorts loudly.
“Oh my god, you guys are townies!” the drunk girl from before says, dancing happily.
Rarity buries her face in one hand, cradling her drink close in the other. She’s turning red, the once-proud diva of the party suddenly shrinking small.
“Damn straight we are,” Applejack says, finding her swagger again. She nudges Rarity, nodding proudly. “Right, Rares?”
Rarity peeks out above her hand to scowl at Applejack – her ears are red, too, which makes Rainbow Dash giggle – and forces words out through grit teeth. “Applejack...”
Applejack stares back at her, cocking one eyebrow like a little kid. Does she really have no idea?
Geez, I thought she did that on purpose.
Rainbow Dash shakes her head – AJ is in for it now. Dash slips out of the room as others leave, before the shit really hits the fan.
See, that’s why you can’t get all tied up over one girl – you get dumb.
Exactly. Although it was pretty funny to see AJ choking so bad. She’d been waiting for something to stick it to the farm girl with, and this was just too perfect. Maybe she’d even lay some wisdom down for the poor girl.
She needs to take her mind off that lacy stuck-up thing. She needs distraction. In a female way. Awwwww yeah cue The Dash swooping in.
No, no, goddammit, stop! She almost slaps her own forehead, but her hands are full of beer. A promise is a promise. Rainbow Dash IS her word, no doubt about it. Maybe it was a grudgingly made promise, maybe it was a promise she wasn’t totally, a hundred percent sure she should’ve made, but it was still a promise and she was going to keep it, dammit.
Unless.
No don’t you even.
Spitfire is down the hall, chatting up... it doesn’t matter who, it’s freaking Spitfire.
Where’s Twilight?
Somewhere else. Still gone. Probably whining at Fluttershy that Dash looked at a girl once.
You should be freaking happy she’s so into you.
Just gonna talk. Just joke around a little, nothing serious.
No stop stop what are you doing
Nothing. Just talking, right? And then she’s next to Spitfire, hovering just near enough to get the captain’s attention. Spitfire notices her mid-drink, smiling and sliding out of her chat to face Dash.
Rainbow Dash throws her an upward nod, smirking the whole time. “So... you wanted a shot, huh?”
Spitfire can’t roll her eyes fast enough. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.” She’s still smiling, though.
“Hey, it’s cool,” Dash says, stretching and flexing her arms. “No big deal, I’m used to it.”
“Where’s your friend?” Spitfire asks.
“Oh, uh... bathroom, I think?” Dash looks around quickly – no Twilight. Safe for now. “Don’t worry about her too much, we’re kind of on the outs.”
Spitfire raises a bemused eyebrow – Seriously? You’re gonna try this?
Rainbow Dash ignores it. “Just sayin’, you know, if I wasn’t taken right now...”
Spitfire slowly shakes her head, putting a surprisingly tender hand on Dash’s arm. “Rainbow Dash...”
Don’t freak out don’t freak out stay cool, just staaaaaay cool
It’s hard, but Dash manages – none of the butterflies in her chest make it up to her smug smirk.
Spitfire shakes her head one last time, patting Dash on the shoulder. “You’re just digging yourself deeper.”
“‘Cause, you know, I could talk to her, and... wait, what?”
“I was proud of you,” Spitfire says, already looking around for someone else to talk to. “Looks like you aren’t quite there yet.”
And then she’s gone again, but this time Rainbow Dash doesn’t stare after her – she looks at her, sees her go, but it’s different this time.
Part of her wants to chase after Spitfire – that must be it, she’s just playing hard to get, right? And if it wasn’t Spitfire, she might have. Follow her in a few strong steps, grab her hand, maybe just kiss her right then and show her how wrong she is, maybe loudly tell her how good a fuck she’s missing out on instead.
But it’s Spitfire. The Captain.
Dash shrugs, taking a long, desperate swig of beer. So what?
You still have Twilight.
She almost shudders. She stalks deeper into the party, looking for someone else, anyone else. It’s not that Twilight’s bad or anything... she’s not, really. Really? She’d be great if she would just chill out. That clingy, lovey, cutey stuff is a little more fun than it has any right to be sometimes, Dash will very grudgingly and secretly admit. But at the same time, it’s like... ugh.
Tied down. Boxed in. Some other word like that... smothered? Rainbow Dash is a bird, dammit, because for some reason she always imagines herself soaring with wings somehow, and she’s the coolest, fastest bird out there, she just knows it, and she doesn’t have time to slow down.
Not yet.
She turns a corner, drifting towards music so loud you can’t hear much but the bass. There’s screaming and whooping and the unmistakable noise of bodies dancing somewhere in this house, and Dash is gonna find it.
There, next room over, gotta be. She walks up to the door, barely getting a glimpse inside before a bouncing ball of pink comes flying out into her, sweating and breathless and jittering with energy.
“Ow, what the hell?” Rainbow Dash says, stumbling backwards and spilling beer all over the floor.
“Whoopsies! Super sorry!” The girl bounces and grins, not looking even a little bit sorry.
Dash gets ready to say something mean, but then she looks up – the girl doesn’t look sorry, but not in a bad way. Like, in a... way too happy to be anything but happy kind of way.
“It’s cool,” Dash says, openly eyeing her up – kinda pudgy. Again, in a good way. Curvy.
Yeah, but hotpants with suspenders. For real?
Dash can’t tell what the girl’s costume is supposed to be. She has a plastic chicken beak stuck to her nose, and goofy bright green plastic glasses perched high on her mop of pink curls.
“Ooooh, I like your hair!” the curvy girl says, darting both hands up into Dash’s hair and leaning in close, inspecting it closely.
“Agh!” It doesn’t hurt – this girl is taller than Dash, almost a head taller, picking through her multi-colored locks like a chimp grooming. “Yeah, it’s awesome, I know,” Dash says, pushing the girl away and not-accidentally-at-all brushing her hand down one big, bouncy breast.
Wow. Soft.
“I think I’ve seen you around!” the girl says, beaming a huge grin at Dash and bouncing in place. “No, I’ve definitely seen you around, but I don’t think we’ve ever really met, which is weird because I’ve met like, everybody, and I keep seeing you at parties and stuff but I never seem to catch your name which is double weird because...”
Dash stops listening, but she keeps nodding along with the rhythmic bouncing of this girl’s chest – it’s hypnotic.
Not bad. Anyway...
She starts to walk past the girl, but the breasts hop to the side and block her path. Rainbow Dash tries to walk around, and the breasts follow her, jiggling to the side. Dash sighs, sinking her shoulders.
“You gonna get outta my way now?” Dash says, glaring at the owner of the breasts.
“You look pretty frowny-faced,” she says, posing in a mockery of seriousness.
Rainbow Dash smirks a little. Maybe she is... frowny-faced.
What is this little kid bullshit?
Heh. Frowny-faced.
“Yeah, maybe I am. So what?” Dash says.
“Oh come on, this is a party!” she says, making one final, huge jump in place. “What would it take to turn that frown...” she traces her fingers up Dash’s cheeks, “Upside down?”
This is the dumbest – who is she? WHAT is she?
And yet Dash’s lips, against all orders, are straining up at the corners a bit.
“Oh there it is!” the girl says, lighting up and gasping with joy. “I see that dashing little smirk!”
Dash rolls her eyes, forcing a scowl back into place.
“Whaaaaaat? Come on, you look sooooooo pretty when you smile!”
“Yeah, probably,” Dash says, “But it’s gonna take a whole lot more than that.”
“Like what?” She pouts, ready to be determined.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Dash says, letting her eyes settle on the breasts in question. “A good fuck would probably do it.”
The girl looks shocked for a mere microsecond, and then she doesn’t get mad, or walk away, or get embarrassed. Instead, she fixes Dash with a downright sultry grin and pushes her own breasts up with her hands, squeezing her shirt tight around them.
“Oh, you like these, huh?” she says.
Dash jolts, her hair practically standing on-end. That was supposed to scare the stupid girl away, dammit. What, is every girl on this campus gay?
Maybe just Dash-sexual. Heh.
“You wanna touch ‘em?” the girl says, her cheeks flushed just enough to be unbelievably cute.
“Bu wha what?”
“Usually boys wanna touch ‘em, but I like your hair,” she says, burning Dash with half-lidded eyes. “And your smile.”
Rainbow Dash takes pause. She does want to touch them, after all.
“It’s okay, they don’t bite! Unless maybe like this!” She pulls them apart and mashes them back together, like a fleshy pair of mandibles. “Hee hee! Om nom nom!”
“Pffffft what the hell?” Dash says, giggling.
“Watch out! They’re gonna get you!” she says, darting forward and holding herself right in Dash’s face.
“Okay, chill out, crazy,” Dash says, cradling two beers in one hand and pushing her back. With her free hand on one glorious boob, of course.
She lets it stay there, resting it on the warm, soft curve. Not bad. Not bad at all.
And man, blue eyes. Alright, she’s pretty hot. Not my usual speed, but hot.
“There, better already!” the girl says, happily letting Dash feel her up. “I bet we could do a lot better than that, though.”
“Oh yeah?” Dash says, her imagination taking a few pretty intense leaps. She squeezes, just a little, just appreciating the heft.
“If you like these, I bet you’d love my –”
“PINKIE!”
They both jump in place, Rainbow Dash shooting her hand down to her side. She turns around to see...
Oh. Oh, goddammit.
Twilight is at the end of the hall, and if it was possible for the world’s cutest nerd to be blowing steam through her nostrils, she’d be blowing holes in the floor.
“Twilight!” the curvy girl yells happily.
“Wait, you know her?” Dash asks, to either of them.
“She’s my roommate,” Twilight growls. “What in Equestria were you doing, Dash?”
“Dash?” Pinkie blinks a few times. “Dash! Oh, you must be Rainbow Dash! Of course, with the hair and the –” Pinkie halts mid-word, clapping her hands to her mouth. “...ohmygosh I am so, so, sooooooooooooooo sorry Twilight.”
Twilight just points down the hall. Pinkie scurries away, shuffling like a little kid caught stealing cookies.
Crap. Crap crap crap I didn’t even really cheat on her crap.
Dash sighs and stares at her shoes. She hears Twilight stomping over, doesn’t even bother trying the It’s not what it looks like or the She made me do it or even the So... threesome?
“Five minutes!” Twilight yells. “Five freaking minutes and I catch you feeling up my roommate?!”
“...I held on to your beer.”
Twilight throws her hands up, apparently not impressed. She looks like she’s about to go on a ranting, yelling marathon, but she just anxiously holds her head in her hands instead.
“I know you aren’t gonna believe me, but...”
“You don’t even...!” Twilight yells, sounding on the edge of tears. “You don’t, you just don’t and I am being so stupid.”
“Don’t what?”
“Care about me!” Twilight screams.
Dash licks her lips and stares past her, at nothing. This is it – put up or shut up.
Do I?
“Of course I do,” she says.
Twilight laughs once, cruel and broken. “Then why... why?!” she holds her hands out, where Pinkie was standing.
Rainbow Dash rolls her eyes – play it cool, coast and glide, she’ll listen. “We didn’t even do anything. I don’t even know that girl, I swear.”
“I can’t... No, I can’t, I just can’t do this,” Twilight says, shaking her head and retracting into her own mad little world. “I want to, I’m sorry and I still want to but I just can’t.”
Rainbow Dash growls to herself – it was cute, sometimes, but enough is enough.
What the crap, I didn’t even get laid. All the fallout and none of the fun.
Twilight snaps out of it, staring at Rainbow Dash with deadly purpose. “I’m serious. I really am this time.”
“Oh, for the... don’t even start with that ‘Strike three’ crap, would you just let me –”
THWACK
Rainbow Dash’s jaw drops – no, it falls open, violently pushed to it’s new location with the rest of her face.
Her cheek stings. Her actual cheek, not the sexy one.
“Did you just...?” Dash whispers, smiling inside.
Twilight is holding her trembling hand out, staring at it, completely aghast. She’s beautiful, actually, just like back when Rainbow Dash felt a stinging snap on her naked ass and turned around to see...
I don’t know, that was better. This is... huh.
Twilight glances up and down a few times, the trembling in her hand slowly leaking out to the rest of her body.
“Wow,” Dash says, rubbing her face. “You... are you serious?”
“I have to go,” Twilight blurts out. “I have to... I have to return some library books.”
And then suddenly Dash feels angry somehow, feels it well up out of nowhere and take over her slightly-numb mouth. “Fine. Good,” she says, hating every word of it. “I’ve got hotter girls than you lined up.”
She gets just the briefest glimpse of Twilight crumbling, lips quivering and pulling her chin in tight, before her (ex) girlfriend turns and quickly walks away, hiding her face down low.
Rainbow Dash scoffs. There? Was that so hard? You can’t cage this badass bird, and if Twilight can’t deal with that, Twilight’s gotta go.
She stands alone, two beers still cinched in her now-stiff fingers. Yeah, that’s it... party. On the prowl. She looks around, at a dark, smelly, dingy house full of muted noise and people she barely knows, people who happily, thankfully don’t give two fucks about her, about who or how many people she does.
Yeah.
Party.
• • •
She doesn’t understand.
She never has, really. I mean, how long has she known Rarity now? Going on plenty of years. They’d gone to school together, sure, so classmates is what they were. For a while, anyway, until... well, until Applejack dropped out. So classmates they weren’t.
But Applejack still saw Rarity plenty. More of a running into her here and there kinda thing. They hadn’t talked much for some time after... that, but when it did start again it was just like before.
They weren’t friends. Applejack was sure of that.
I mean, here they were, knowing each other for years, and Rarity comes taggin’ along to this party with Fluttershy. Fluttershy, who she practically just met. Applejack isn’t sure how or where it happened, but she does know that Rarity spends all kinds of time with this new girl. It’s different, too – Rarity is always trying to get in with the college crowd, but this is different. Her and Fluttershy, they’re friends.
They don’t fight every time they talk. They don’t bicker and groan, taking little shots at each other at every chance. They meet for tea or go to the spa, even if it is a long drive a few towns over. When Rarity sees Fluttershy, she smiles and her eyes light up and she greets her proper.
Fluttershy! How good to see you!
She doesn’t turn dramatically at the sound of Fluttershy’s voice, lowering her eyelids and peering down her perfect nose.
Oh, Fluttershy. How good to see you.
She might as well just come out and say it plain.
Oh. It’s YOU again.
Applejack tightens her grip on the beer in her hand, denting the cheap plastic. She downs most of what’s left of it. Beer is good. You know where you stand with beer.
“Excuse me?”
Applejack looks up, but it wasn’t for her. There’s a guy trying to whisper something in Rarity’s ear, muttering and leaning into her, barely staying on his feet. She smiles and gracefully pushes him away.
How is she smiling? I’d be knocking that guy on his ass.
The smile never leaves – poised and perfect.
“Excuse me, but when I said I lived off-campus that was not an open invitation,” she says, paying the boy no more mind.
“That is so cool,” a girl, clearly an adoring fan, says to Rarity. “Having your own place, yeah?”
They both pause, watching the drunk kid shuffle off from whence he came.
“Mmm... yes, yes it is... cool,” Rarity says, and only Applejack notices the strain behind her eyes.
It ain’t because of that guy, is it? Why I’ll learn him a thing or two if it is.
Ain’t right, these college guys. Slobberin’ over her just because she’s pretty, bunch of drooling horndogs. She finishes her drink, holding back the urge to toss it hard against the floor – she’d want it to shatter, but it’s just a flimsy red cup.
Ain’t right.
“Oh you mean on... that’s right above that dress shop, isn’t it?” the girl says.
Rarity nods, but the strain is there again.
Why?
Applejack just doesn’t get it.
“Why yes, it’s –” Rarity starts to say.
“Oh, I KNEW I’d seen you somewhere before!” the girl says, snapping her fingers. She’s pretty, and dressed like some kind of Egyptian Princess, complete with plenty of dangling jewelry that dances with every move. “You work there!”
Everybody else sees Rarity nodding, still smiling, nothing wrong at all.
Applejack sees the cracks at the edges of her lips, the racing thoughts in her eyes, the still panic of a deer turning it’s ears towards the scope of a gun.
“I design,” Rarity says simply.
She doesn’t understand. Rarity should be proud of it, dammit. Applejack is proud of her – it was something they had in common, she’d come to realize. Young women of business. Owners of businesses, even. Ain’t nobody but Rarity could keep a dress shop afloat in a town like this out of sheer grit and hard work.
She keeps listening, and Rarity keeps dancing around it. It’s awful, undignified, makes no sense – Rarity, hiding her true colors to fit in with these... ugh. These kids.
She just can’t stand it.
“She owns the place, you know,” Applejack cuts in. “Shoot, why you bein’ so modest Rarity?”
She’s used to the look by now, but she still doesn’t get why. Here she is, tryin’ to do Rarity a favor, and the girl is just furious.
“Wow, it’s... it’s YOUR store?” the girl asks.
“Yes!” Rarity throws her hands up in a huff. “I own the store, I live there, I work there far past full time, and I am an evening student when I have the time. I have lived in Ponyville all my life.”
The girl stares, working her mouth soundlessly.
“Happy?” Rarity glares at Applejack, sharp as diamonds.
“Sorry,” the girl says, already backing away, “I uh, didn’t mean to interrupt anything. You two–”
“Just sayin’,” Applejack says, “Ain’t interrupting.”
“No I meant–”
“You’re always just saying!” Rarity says, forgetting the other girl. “Has it ever occurred to you that I might prefer it if you said nothing?”
“Why not?” Applejack shrugs, waving at the college girl. “I mean, ain’t it worth mention... oh.”
She’s gone, shuffled off to somewhere else. Rarity’s shoulders slump, one of the only times Applejack’s ever seen her break posture.
“...I’ve had enough,” Rarity growls. “I’m going home.”
“Aw, come on,” Applejack says. She starts to hold out her drink, but realizes it’s empty. “Stick around, I’ll grab you a beer.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have–” Rarity catches herself, too, but not soon enough. “I just wanted to meet someone. Anyone. Is that too much to ask?”
“Anyone?”
“And every time I think I might be about to climb out of the tiny social pond of this one-horse town, you are there to drag me right back in,” Rarity says, jabbing a finger into Applejack’s chest right above the corset.
Heh. Ow.
“What are you even talkin’ about? Ponyville’s a hell of a place. Home is home, right?”
Rarity scowls and groans, showing off her disdain to nobody in particular. “I’m going home. I am finding Fluttershy right now and I am going home.” She deigns to give Applejack a look, with a withering sigh. “Goodnight, Applejack.”
Applejack feels like she should shrug – fine, have it your way then. Go home and leave me here all alone with nobody to talk to except these high-falutin’ college kids since Mac and ‘Shy are too busy makin’ eyes at each other.
She shudders instead.
“Aw, come on Rare.” Rarity is already prancing away – yeah, prancing, isn’t it, sliding away smooth as silk with her nose high in the air. “What the hell are you even –”
“Hmph.” Rarity barely looks her way, arms crossed, shutting her down without even needing a word.
“Dammit, Rarity, I’m just sayin’...” Applejack loses sight of her as she rounds a corner, just for an instant. “I thought you –”
“AJ!” Rainbow Dash says, appearing out of nowhere
“Whoa!” Applejack takes a stumbling step back – Rainbow Dash is blocking the door, and Rarity is nowhere to be seen. “Hey, uh, you mind?”
“Mind what?” Dash says, wavering on her feet. She smells like she’s gotten into something a lot harder than beer. “Do I mind not having your hot ass in my face? Like, right now?”
“Oh for Chrissake...” Applejack rolls her eyes, then tries to squeeze past Dash. “I’m kinda in the middle of somethin’.”
“Yeah in the middle of my legs. Or... something. Yeah,” Dash says, mumbling and slurring a little. She grabs Applejack by the belt buckle, pulling her in close.
WHOA whoa there someone’s hotter to trot than usual.
Applejack would be lying if she said it wasn’t kinda interesting – Rainbow Dash and her toned tight little body hovering hairs away from her. She feels Rainbow Dash’s other hand slide along her belt and pull at the back, right into a rough thrust of Rainbow’s hips.
“Come on, Blondie,” Dash growls, “I know you’ve been looking.”
Applejack cringes – it’s only kind of interesting. It would be a lot more than kind of, if it wasn’t for that awful look in Rainbow’s eye.
Yeah, she’s prettier when she’s happy.
Applejack pushes her away. “Where’s Twilight?”
“God, you too?” Rainbow lets her go, thankfully, sulking with her hands instead. “Why does everybody keep ASKING me that?!”
“Well I don’t think she’d like what you’re doin’,” Applejack says, trailing off when she notices Rainbow Dash mimicking her like a teenager.
Ugh, Apple Bloom ever does that I’ll smack her right across that cute bow in her hair.
Well, honestly, she wouldn’t. Wouldn’t dare ever hit that poor girl. Course, Rainbow Dash isn’t Apple Bloom. Smiling sideways, Applejack gives Dash a playful slap up the side of her head.
“Ow!” Rainbow Dash says it, but her body doesn’t seem to notice otherwise. “KNEW you liked it rough.”
Awful. Awful, awful, this is just awful – she likes Rainbow Dash well enough. Actually, truth be told, she likes Rainbow Dash way more than that. But seeing her like this...
“Cut it out, you birddog,” AJ says, pushing back another drunk advance from Dash. “What happened?”
“Nothing. Whatever,” Dash says, back to sulking teenager. “She isn’t my wife. And you’re not my mom.”
Alright, not funny anymore. Where’s Rarity?
“So are we gonna do it or what?” Rainbow Dash says, as unsexily as possible.
Applejack shakes her head.
Oh how the hot have fallen...
“I gotta go,” Applejack says, glancing down the cramped hallway.
“Fine. Go,” Dash says, still sulking. Like she saw this coming anyway.
“Aw, don’t be like that...” Applejack puts a hand on her shoulder – she wants to stay, to talk Dash down a bit. She really does. But... “I gotta take care of this. And then we’re gonna sit down and have ourselves a talk.”
Rainbow Dash shrugs her hand away, hands deep in her pockets.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” she says, leaving Rainbow Dash alone in the doorway. It hurts to leave her hanging.
But you take ‘em as you can, right?
Rarity freaked out first. Just flag her down real quick.
Gotta find her first. Applejack shuffles past loud idiots, all talking about nothing, but doesn’t see the loud idiot she’s looking for.
Why?
She said she was lookin’ for Fluttershy. But where the heck is Fluttershy even?
Why the hell are you looking for her?
Well... because. Just because, that’s all. Have to talk to her. Have to set things right.
Every time you talk to her it ends up like this anyway.
The house is a dark, cramped maze, all paths lined with brats holding too much of their parents’ money. No hope or sense looking for Rarity in here.
Heh, needle in a haystack?
Naw, come on. That ain’t fair.
She ain’t like them.
Outside! Either which way, they’re gonna end up outside. Cut ‘em off at the pass, that’s the way. Applejack stumbles and pushes her way out until she practically falls out the front door, crisp autumn air stinging her nostrils. She blinks in the dim light of streetlamps, her ears thudding with with echoes of awful music.
There, much better. Now all she’s got to do is wait, and sure enough Rarity’ll come out of that party, probably still got her arms crossed and nose high, all fuming and indignant. Probably getting Mac to give her a ride.
Ugh, eww. Over my dead body.
Correction, probably getting Fluttershy to tell Mac to drive them all home, because that big lug is, was, and always will be a sucker for pretty girls. No way in hell Rarity would be walking home alone, all sad grace and class like a fancy widow, stumbling and tripping along the cracked and pot-holed sidewalk in high heels hidden by her long, elegant gown.
Oh.
Oh, crap.
Goddamn wigs, goddamn dress, showin’ off her bits like that... she NEVER dresses like that.
Applejack hurries to catch up, not quite jogging. She sees Rarity’s shoulders slump with a heavy sigh, sees her slow down at Applejack’s loud footsteps coming up behind her.
She matches Rarity’s pace, hovering just behind and to her side. Rarity doesn’t stop, grimly walking on.
Applejack swallows, and to her it sounds loud. Her mouth is full of cotton all of a sudden, dry and scratchy and strangely numb.
“Well?” Rarity says, not turning around. “I don’t suppose you think you’re going to walk me home?”
Applejack ignores the jab, for once. “I thought you were gonna go find ‘Shy, and... you know, Mac. Truck.”
Rarity finally stops, and Applejack almost bumps into her.
“I didn’t want to bother them,” Rarity says, fussing with her hair. “It’s awful, once you see them. I couldn’t bring myself to end their night early.”
Applejack nods and smirks – yup, that sounds about right. Fluttershy has a way about her, no doubt about it. “So what, you’re walkin’?”
Rarity raises an eyebrow, and those perfect lips of hers form a subtle downward curve – haughty, imperious, skepticism from the noblest of noble women.
“Yeah, I know it ain’t far, but you know... it’s late,” Applejack offers, haltingly rubbing at the back of her neck.
Rarity’s raised eyebrow gets sharper before she pulls her wig off with a most-ladylike Oh, to hell with it grunt. Her long, violet tresses are folded and pinned flat, better to be hidden under the trashy black wig now piled up in her hands. She shakes her head a few times, lazily, and sends a few stray strands loose.
“...I know you’re sore at me,” Applejack says, fighting to find her breath again.
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Rarity says, back to slashing Applejack with her eyes.
“Come on, Rarity,” Applejack says, sounding far more fed-up than she meant to. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walkin’ home alone. That’s just good sense.”
Rarity doesn’t roll her eyes – only because she doesn’t have to, naturally. Hers is a far more fluent set of facial expressions, as varied and potent as a trained actress. With a look that has no need for anything so obvious as eye-rolling, she slaps the wig into Applejack’s stomach.
“Oof!” Applejack says, more out of surprise than anything else. She catches the wig and then Rarity is off again, slowly making her way down the sidewalk through the dim circles of streetlamps.
Applejack catches up and stays at Rarity’s side, and they walk like that, past worn-down houses and spray-painted benches and gnarled, leafless trees, their roots tearing huge cracks and hills through the weathered sidewalk.
It’s quiet, as soon as they’ve drifted away from the campus. The houses along the edges of it are always lively, rented by students or owned by the college itself. But once you’re past that? Dead and quiet and hollowed out, even on a late Halloween night.
It’s strange. Applejack remembers trick-or-treating on these streets, seeing crowds of kids just like her running around and laughing. She even went out with Rarity once, when they were much younger. Before. Applejack was a scarecrow, and Rarity was a princess.
Of course.
What was it she said?
I require a prince. I suppose you shall have to do, Applejack.
It had only been a little less awkward than tonight had ended up.
“Alright, I’ll ask,” Rarity says.
“Huh?”
“Why are you following me?” Rarity asks, again not looking over. She looks like she’s talking to herself, quiet and wistful and a little glum. “It doesn’t make any sense. You’re always so mean to me.”
Applejack balks, squeezing the cheap wig so hard her knuckles pop. “Mean to you? Seems to me it’s self-defense half the time. Why are you always on my case?”
“Well if it was your intention to drive me out of that party and then try to confuse me, bravo. You’ve won,” she says, making a few sincerely sarcastic golf-claps.
“I’d say I did you a favor,” Applejack growls. “Buncha stuck-up frat boys and divas in there.”
“Oh and I suppose you can find more refined company.” Rarity shakes her head. “I’d rather be hit on by a drunk oaf or two than hang around and watch you... I don’t know, shoot things? Dip chew, or whatever that was?”
“It’s snuff, and that was only the one time!”
“Disgusting,” Rarity sneers. “You know I’m glad Granny Smith walloped your hide, or however she put it, because seeing you spitting like that made me want to throw up.”
Applejack cringes, flashing back to the fourteen-year-old who had thought any of that was a good idea. Granny hadn’t walloped her, oh no – she’d made Applejack finish off the can all at once, sucking and spitting until she puked so long and so hard she thought she would die. She remembers the shame, holding her daddy’s hat and choking through the tears how sorry she was and she’d never –
Wait, what... how?
Applejack shakes it off – that was years ago.
Dammit, Rarity, makin’ me feel all... stuff.
“What, like you're any better?” Applejack says, smirking as that mean, delicious thrill of winning fills her thoughts. “You make me come hang out with you, and what do we do? Hours gettin’ ourselves gussied up –”
“Not another word!” Rarity growls, picking up pace.
“Just so’s I can watch you throw yourself at that... that...” Applejack pauses, because Rarity is hitting her as she tries to walk away, flinging a fist over and over again into Applejack’s leather jacket. It does nothing. “Throw yourself at that waste of space, and then I gotta hold your head up while you cry all night because he ain’t–”
“Stop that AT ONCE,” Rarity yells, her chin pouting from behind her haughty pose. “Ugh, why do I even talk to you?!”
Suddenly, winning ain’t so fun. Applejack slumps on her feet, still walking but...
That was low.
Not fair. We was all sixteen once, and hell, Applejack had thrown herself at a guy or two, before she... figured things out.
Ahem.
Rarity is making a point of hovering just far enough way.
She’s right.
“...Sorry,” Applejack says quietly.
Rarity doesn’t respond. She’s got her arms crossed again, or... curled tight around herself? Is she shivering?
Applejack takes a deep breath, and it’s plenty crisp enough to sting her lungs pleasantly. And Rarity – it’s a hell of a dress, alright, thin and sheer and flowing flush down her curves, the front cut low and skin, miles of pale, flawless...
Applejack tears her eyes away.
She’s freezing and all you can do is drool at her. You low-down scoundrel.
She takes her jacket off, being careful not to drop the wig – Rarity probably made it herself, or at least bought it somewhere expensive. She holds the jacket out to Rarity, bumping her arm with it.
Rarity glances at it and practically recoils in disgust. “Eww? No.”
“Oh come off it, that dress is a silly little wisp of a thing.”
“That jacket smells.”
“Just put it on,” Applejack groans, and to her surprise Rarity does take it. She drapes it over her shoulders like a shawl, holding the front tightly closed, and despite the absence of the rare sight of Rarity’s lovely cleavage, Applejack feels pretty good.
It is a bit chilly out. Applejack likes it, but that’s – well, she doesn’t mind wearin’ little for a hot day’s work, but this corset is a little much. Her big, freckled shoulders are bare and she feels strangely naked.
It’s the lack of hat, really. Fluttershy and Rarity had gushed and wheedled and begged until Applejack agreed to the costume, but she drew the line at a crown or tiara or whatever the hell that thing was Rarity was tryin’ to get her to wear. Had to offer up no-hat in return, but that’s just how it goes sometimes.
Yeah, keep tellin’ yourself that.
Alright, fine, so maybe she ain’t a thin, pretty little thing like Rarity. Maybe she’s got big hips and broad shoulders and solid muscle, like a working girl does. She knew when Rarity squeezed her into that corset and told her she looked stunning that she was just bein’ nice, bein’ generous and gracious because she’s too much a lady to be anything else.
But boy, feelin’ her slender fingers work that measuring tape...
Stop that. Just cut that out right now, no sense in even thinkin’ it.
This was a mistake.
It was. But they’re almost there – the houses around them are slowly giving way to townhouses and storefronts, and downtown is just around the corner.
That’s right, bring her home, bid her goodnight, and that is that.
She dares to throw a glance at Rarity – wearing that jacket elegantly somehow, pointedly not returning Applejack’s look. This is what always happens, whenever she spends any kind of time at all around Rarity. A long, silent walk and a bunch of huffy looks and at the end it’s Applejack, alone, knowin’ she must’ve done something wrong and never knew what it was.
Maybe it’s for the best. They’ve made it to what passes for a downtown in Ponyville, and it’s pretty grim even in Applejack’s eyes. Maybe Rarity is right – maybe she does need to get out of this town, go far away to some fancy big city where she can live her dreams instead of just being in –
An empty sleeve brushes Applejack’s arm, and she is shocked to see Rarity actually walking next to her. Not with her, exactly, but not just far enough away to communicate disdain, either.
Progress, of a kind.
But then they stop. Large glass windows loom in front of them, shadows of racks and mannequins peering out. The words CAROUSEL BOUTIQUE are painted on the glass in florid curves.
Boy, she did clean up the place nice, didn’t she?
That had been a good day. Applejack had helped her with some of the heavy lifting. She tries, really tries, not to remember Rarity, leaning in close, picking bits of plaster out of Applejack’s hair.
“Well,” Rarity says, as if the word stood on its own. She doesn’t move to take the jacket off, doesn’t move much at all other than to stare at Applejack’s boots.
“...Yeah,” Applejack says.
What else IS there to say?
“Thank you, I suppose,” Rarity says grudgingly. “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine,” Applejack says.
“Don’t be ridiculous, let me call you a cab, or at least...”
“Quit fussin’ over me,” Applejack says, and in her head it sounds low and weak, like begging.
Rarity sniffs haughtily – obviously it sounded different outloud. “Fine, be that way. That’s just another shot at me, isn’t it? You’d want me to feel awful if something happened to you.”
Applejack says nothing – she just feels her chest sinking into itself, pulling the corners of her mouth down into a weary grimace.
I didn’t mean it like that, god, why does this always happen?
Rarity shifts her weight from leg to leg, looking impatient or anxious or maybe just plain old pissed off, Applejack can’t tell. She never could tell.
The moment stretches on, and Rarity is about to turn up her nose and walk inside, Applejack can feel it, just like every time before, and there it is, that one last turn of her foot and then –
“Why?” Applejack feels herself say.
Rarity freezes, and Applejack does, too.
“...Excuse me?” Rarity says.
“You and them college kids,” Applejack says, feeling a vise around her chest loosen a little. “You’re never gonna be like them.”
Rarity’s eyes narrow, and she opens her mouth for what must surely be a razor-sharp retort.
Dammit, dammit, dammit!
“That’s not –!” Applejack says, holding her hands up. “I didn’t mean it like... you know, like that.”
Rarity slowly raises an eyebrow as the anger drains from her face – she gives Applejack a long, curious look, the kind one would usually use on a child.
Then what did you mean? Use your words, darling.
She tries, but it’s hard. Like it’s too big to choke out.
What, you gonna give up?
Applejack grits her teeth and goes for it, because dammit it’s gotta be done. “You’re better than them. All of ‘em,” she says. “I just don’t get it, watchin’ you lower yourself like that.”
“Lower myself?”
“Yeah, lower,” Applejack says. “You bend yourself all over tryin’ to fit in with them and they ain’t even worth the... the...”
...Spit on your boots?
Normally she’d be happy to say something that might get a rise outta Rarity, but right now it just feels wrong.
Rarity is staring at her – still curious, maybe more so, so much her mouth is hanging open a little.
It’s awful. Applejack take a turn staring at shoes, bowing her head. “And they don’t even – you know, they don’t even see you. You show ‘em your best and they see that, but they don’t see you,” she says, not even sure what she’s saying anymore, choking on the edges of words. “They don’t see you scrimping and saving for years. Painting this place and fixin’ it up, runnin’ it all on your lonesome. Keeping it open, doin’ whatever you gotta do even with times bein’ tough.”
Rarity’s mouth moves, but it’s a token effort.
“And they don’t see...”
There are years and years of memories that Applejack can’t put words to, just weird bits of feelings threatening to put water in the corners of her eyes. Sure, Rarity can be a high-falutin’ fussy pain in the ass, but... then there’s Rarity, working her heart out making costumes for the school play. Rarity donating her hair, cutting off those long locks she’s so damn proud of and giving ‘em up.
Rarity making a girl feel pretty when she didn’t know she could be anything close to the word.
It’s enough to make Applejack not realize she’s been standing there for whole seconds, chewing on her own teeth.
“Applejack?”
Rarity snaps her out of it. Applejack looks up, and Rarity is wholly different – huddled under the jacket instead of tolerating it, bearing a sweet, careful, hopeful little smile.
“You know...” Rarity says quietly. “I really thought you didn’t like me anymore.”
Applejack snorts loudly. Her first instinct is to buck wild.
Who said I do?
But she can’t lie. “I don’t... I mean I don’t... you know, I don’t not like you,” she says, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck.
“I see.” Rarity nods to herself, seeming to think her words through carefully. “Well, I don’t dislike you either.”
“Oh?”
“No.” Rarity’s sweet little smile grows, just a bit, a flickering candle flaring to life. “I should say I don’t dislike you very much, actually.”
Applejack can’t help but smile back. “Oh... that’s somethin’ I guess.”
That’s it? Something?
She never was very good with words – Rarity can weave them together almost as well as a bolt of fine fabric. She’d probably take all these damn feelings and work ‘em into a poem that’d have ladies swooning and hard old men shedding a tear or two.
But Applejack just stands there, trying not to meet Rarity’s eyes. She knows she’d fall into them.
Say something say something no LEAVE
She should go, she knows she should go, all the things she wants to say, has wanted to say for a long time now, are stupid.
Drop it. Just DROP it.
She doesn’t move an inch. That is, until she feels, sees just on the edge of her vision, Rarity lean a little bit closer.
“I should get goin’” Applejack says, turning to walk away.
“What?” Rarity moves with her, not letting her just walk away. “Why don’t you stay awhile?”
That gets her – Applejack freezes on her feet, willing herself not to believe it. “...Huh?”
“I feel so awful,” Rarity says, and she really means it, she has to. That sad, beautiful tone in her voice, so far from the airs she puts on sometimes – that can’t be lying.
“Well, shoot,” Applejack says. “I mean... ain’t all your fault. I’ve been kind of a pill, sometimes.”
“Hmm, yes, you have,” Rarity says, mean glee momentarily sparkling in her eyes. “But it feels like forever since we really talked.”
Applejack stares, and can’t think to do much more than blink. Certainly not breathe.
“Come upstairs? I’ll make us some... hmm, I don’t actually know what I have right now. I’ll make us something,” Rarity says. She takes both Applejack’s hands in her own, pulling her by the wig.
“Jeez, I dunno Rarity, I mean it’s awful late...”
“Oh, I see. I can’t walk home alone, but you’re going to go traipsing around Ponyville in that?”
“Come off it, I’ll be fine,” Applejack growls.
“I won’t allow it. A beautiful young woman such as yourself should not be going about unescorted. That’s just good sense,” Rarity says, dropping her affected bits of accent on the last words.
Applejack glares at her – she knows Rarity doesn’t mean it, of course, just trying to get a rise out of her with all this pretty business.
“Stop being stupid.” Rarity pulls her along, and somehow, Applejack follows. “Yes, I get it, you’re stubborn and tough and you can handle yourself and other such things.”
“Well I can,” Applejack says.
“Has it occurred to you that I am inviting you in because I might enjoy your company? Rather than it being an attempt to patronize you, I mean.”
Applejack had not dared to let it occur to her. Still seemed a risky proposition, honestly. She grunts something vaguely affirmative as Rarity leads her, grudgingly stomping her feet as she follows. Rarity fumbles with her keys –
Now where was she even keeping those?
A few ideas present themselves and Applejack bucks them out of her head before they make her blush. This is just, you know, two friends. Hanging out. Talking.
Oh, so we’re friends now?
Sure. Sounds good, sounds right. Hell, Applejack should be counting her lucky stars for having a friend like Rarity.
They go in a door to the side of the Boutique and up a dark, creaky set of stairs. Rarity’s apartment is the second floor of the building, Applejack remembers dimly – she hasn’t really been here since Rarity got the place, and even then she hadn’t been up here. They’d started arguing about something stupid just as the work downstairs had been finished, so Applejack missed the traditional moving-in after party.
“Welcome, to my humble abode!” Rarity says theatrically, holding the door open for Applejack.
She takes a deep breath and steps through. It’s small, smaller than she expected somehow, and it should feel cramped. But leave it to Rarity to take a dingy old apartment and do it up like a palace.
“Ah! Wipe your feet, please,” Rarity says.
Applejack catches herself and does so with only token grumbling.
“I’ll just be a moment,” Rarity says, disappearing down a narrow hallway. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”
Applejack glances around, far from comfortable – here she is, in the den of the lion. She’s had dreams and nightmares centered on this place before, but none of them looked even a little bit like this.
It’s small, she thinks again. She’s in what could pass for a living room, dominated by the fanciest couch she’s ever seen at one end. It’s crowded otherwise with what can only be bits of projects, mannequins and tables and cloth waiting to be crafted. A crooked counter marks off a cramped kitchen, and that’s pretty much it.
Huh. Looks way bigger downstairs.
She moves towards the couch and almost trips over something white and fluffy. It stretches and yawns and glares at her, and Applejack swears she hears a low growl.
Cat. Of COURSE she has a cat.
She steps over it, carefully, like one would step over a puddle of vomit. The couch is as artistic as the work downstairs, all red velvet and gold trim and curves and spirals. She sits on it gingerly, not relaxing so much as trying to be very still so as not to break anything.
It’s more comfortable than she thought.
Small, though. Guess it would be a loveseat? Naw, it’s Rarity’s, probably got some dumb fancy name for it. Sofa, or divan, or somesuch.
She chuckles quietly. Here and there, among the ongoing projects, there are glimpses of a tastefully decorated, spacious room – an end table is graced with a perfectly sparse bunch of flowers in a vase. Framed pictures are on the walls at perfectly-spaced intervals.
Something warm and soft and purring rubs against her leg, and Applejack gags and shifts away. The cat glares up at her, still purring somehow, and curls up on one cushion.
Applejack glares back.
Ugh, even her CAT is fancy.
“How does tea sound?” Rarity says, walking back down the hall –
Good GOLLY.
Wearing a pink, fluffy bathrobe. Her hair has been let loose and then tamed again, tied up in a simple ponytail with stray tendrils left as they will. Applejack slams her eyes down and of course the slippers match, pink and fuzzy and her eyes can’t help but trail up long, perfectly slender legs...
“Applejack?” Rarity is rummaging around in cupboards, barely looking her way.
Applejack forces her mouth closed before anyone gets wise. “Uhh... sure.”
“Hmm, I didn’t think you would say yes. I’m afraid I’m fresh out of whiskey or cider or something a bit more to your tastes.”
Bathrobe.
Is she wearing anything under it? She’s gotta be. Right? It hugs her as she moves, outlining all kinds of curves.
“Whatever’s fine,” Applejack says.
Rarity puts a kettle on and joins Applejack, hoisting the cat into her arms while gushing a bunch of corny baby-talk at the thing. Applejack tries to ignore this, no problem, ignoring lotsa things so why not?
Oh no, she’s sitting next to me.
Well of course she is, you idiot.
Yeah but...
It’s a small couch, and she’s awful close. The cat growls and runs away the moment Rarity tries to rest it in her lap, and then it’s just the two of them.
“Do relax, Applejack,” Rarity says. She lies on her side, resting her head on the other end of the couch with a satisfied little moan. “I very much doubt you’re going to break anything.”
Applejack is sitting up ramrod straight, gripping the edge of her seat. Rarity’s curling up her legs on the couch, the tips of her slippers grazing Applejack’s thighs. Her fine behind is in plain view, just a thin stretch of bathrobe stretched tight over it.
Huh. Looks bigger than usual.
Not that Applejack had been looking, or anything.
“...Fancy couch you got here,” Applejack says.
“Ugh, please. It is a chaise lounge,” Rarity says.
Applejack clears her throat. Not looking over. Not gonna, not even gonna think about it, boy those sure are some fancy dresses she’s workin’ on up here...
“So had you met those friends of Fluttershy’s before?” Rarity says, sitting up a little, resting on one elbow, her bathrobe falling open just the tiniest bit.
Applejack clears her throat and fumbles for words. She doesn’t get any ready in time.
“That toga was almost marvelous,” Rarity goes on. “A bit duller than it had to be – I think she let historical accuracy get in the way.”
Toga? Oh, right.
“Yeah, she’s... well, Rainbow Dash is Fluttershy’s friend from way back,” Applejack says. “That’s how I know ‘em, anyway.”
“Oh goodness, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity says, with a mix of distaste and excitement. “I thought I would be fending her off along with the usual assortment of oafs. Did you see the way she was staring at my legs?”
“Heh, yeah, she’s like that.” Applejack shakes her head, but can’t help a little smile. “She’s been barking up my tree for a while now.”
“I suppose Twilight is lucky you’re straight, then,” Rarity says.
It aches inside – Applejack bites back some words. It hurts and she hates doing it, but there ain’t any sense in saying anything.
“Me, I would’ve been tempted,” Rarity says.
what
Applejack blinks. Once. Her grip tightens so hard that the chaise lounge creaks under knuckles.
“Eh, what am I saying? How desperate have I gotten?” Rarity says theatrically. “She’s clearly involved, and clearly a bad idea even were that not the case. Did you see that look in her eyes?”
Applejack weakly shakes her head, barely hearing the words.
“Trouble, that one. She’s exactly the kind of tempting I shouldn’t be looking at.”
“Hold up. Hold the dang phone,” Applejack says. “WHAT are you talkin’ about?”
Rarity shrinks in, looking a little defensive. “Well even you have to admit that Rainbow Dash has a certain air about her. Passionate, intense... and that hair. She’s right out of a bodice-ripper,” Rarity says. “A queer one, anyway,” she adds, with a smug giggle.
Applejack croaks, sliding down into the nauseous pit growing in her stomach.
What? WHAT?
The room is threatening to spin, wobbling under her feet. And when did that horse kick her in the gut?
“I did find myself feeling bad for Twilight,” Rarity goes on, oblivious. “How did you say Fluttershy knows them?”
“Wait.” Applejack struggles, digging her feet into the cheap rug. “You... you’re... like THAT?”
Rarity draws herself up, drawing on her haughty airs again. “Oh please, Applejack. You’re not going to judge me on that, of all things? I thought you were open-minded.”
AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH WHY?!
“But you and that asshole Blueblood...?!”
Rarity makes a pained noise, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Oh, don’t get me started. He’s half the reason I changed sides, ah... that is to say... hmm. Realized some things, I suppose you could say.”
Applejack’s mouth hangs open.
THIS WHOLE TIME?
Rarity raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
Oh, shit...
Was that outloud?
“This whole time what?” Rarity says.
Ohhhhhhh crap crap CRAP.
“Applejack?” Rarity sits up, tucking that glorious behind underneath her.
Applejack freezes up – this can’t be true, can’t be happening.
“Applejack, what’s wrong?” Rarity says, scooting closer.
Oh nothin’, just having a mild freak out over here, please stop saying my name like that PLEASE.
“Appleja–” Rarity starts to say.
The kettle whistles, piercing the air with a long whine.
Rarity gets up. Applejack lets a long, pained breath out – close, too close.
What are you talkin’ about CLOSE? This... she...!
Her eyes follow Rarity, and that damn bathrobe, the hem dancing just above her knees. Rarity is only in the kitchen for a moment, throwing the kettle on a cool burner and coming right back.
She sits. Just as she was, no, leaning in a little closer, eyes boring into Applejack.
“...No tea?” Applejack says desperately.
“I’m surprised at you,” Rarity says. “If you really have a problem with my... orientation, then I–”
“It ain’t that,” Applejack says, trying hard not to meet her eyes. “I swear, it ain’t.”
Rarity just waits – eyebrows raised, lips slightly pouted. Bemused, like she can’t wait to hear the excuses.
“Rarity, I swear it,” Applejack says again. She stops just short of begging to be believed – she’s never felt so caught, so doubted, so...
What do I even say?
“...How come you never told me?” she asks, quietly.
“You never asked,” Rarity says huffily.
“You woulda been straight with me?” Applejack balks.
“Hmm, choice of words, dear,” Rarity says, her eyes twinkling as she smirks.
Applejack’s heart cringes and jumps – that damn voice. Always the worst when she’s bein’ clever with it.
“But I always thought you... you’re always sayin’...” Applejack tries.
“I... I’ll admit, I haven’t always been open with you,” Rarity says, all her smirks gone. “I didn’t want to give you any ammunition, I think.”
Oh. Applejack’s face falls, too. Neither says anything for a long moment – Applejack is struggling under some memories she ain’t exactly proud of, and from the look of it Rarity’s doing the same.
So they hadn’t always been friendly.
Sorry, Applejack wants to say, again. A hundred times over. This was why – why she had no chance, even knowing what she knows now.
“I’m sorry,” she hears Rarity say.
“Huh?”
“You’re right. I... well, I haven’t always been honest with you.” Rarity looks as glum as she sounds, but then her eyes light up, her whole face beaming like she always does when...
“I have an idea!” Rarity says, practically bouncing in place. She scootches closer and leans in, reaching over Applejack...
Oh holy hell in HOWDY she smells good
Just barely brushing against her. Applejack feels tugging against her belt, and when Rarity sits back up she’s holding the end of Applejack’s lasso.
Well, not her real lasso. Her real lasso is a rough and tough coil of good hard twine, hanging up in her bedroom at home. This rope is sissy nylon stuff, bright and clean, something Rarity had lying around her store.
Come to think of it, why did she have that?
“You know what’s special about this rope?” Rarity says.
“Uhh...?”
“Your costume,” Rarity says, her eyes flat.
“Oh.” Applejack has no idea what she’s on about – she was never a big comic book reader. The whole thing was Rarity and Fluttershy’s idea.
“It’s magic,” Rarity explains. “If you tie someone up with it, they have to tell the truth.”
Rarity holds one end of the rope and loops it around her wrists a few times. Then she pulls it into a loose, lazy bind, not even any knots. Applejack can’t look away – her heart is pounding against her corset, and she barely even feels it.
“There.” Rarity holds her hands up, her wrists held neatly together. “Ask away. Anything you want.”
Applejack swallows, dry and sharp. She doesn’t move.
“Oh, come on.” Rarity reaches over again and yanks the coil of rope out of Applejack’s belt, shoving it into her hands. “I’m trying, Applejack, meet me halfway.”
This... okay. This is okay. I’m game.
Applejack works the rope in her hands, like she can’t remember what it is.
Come on now, cowgirl up!
Right. She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
“So...” Applejack says, clearing her throat the moment she hears her own wavering voice. “You,” she tries again, much better this time, “You’re into girls?”
“Well,” Rarity, amazingly, has a slight flush of color on her cheeks. “I’ve sampled a few lovers of the feminine persuasion, if you must know.”
“What the hell?” Applejack unconsciously pulls on the rope, yanking Rarity closer. “I saw you hittin’ on a guy a few weeks back!”
“So you’ve been watching me?” Rarity says, with a sultry smile of victory.
“Not-! Not like... dammit, Rarity...”
“Oh calm down.” Rarity tosses her hair, pulling back on the rope ever so slightly. “Perhaps I prefer one or the other, at times. What of it?”
Of all the mind-boggled emotions that jumps to the front, it’s a simmering flash of anger. Applejack crushes the rope in her hands. “And you NEVER thought to maybe say something to me?”
“And again, you never asked,” Rarity says. “If this is your way of telling me you’re interested...”
Applejack jolts, her face falling like a startled deer.
“Ah ha!” Rarity crows. “I KNEW I’d caught you staring!”
“Listen, Rarity...”
“No, no, this makes so much sense!” Rarity says. “This explains so much, it all finally makes sense now...”
“No!” Applejack says, yanking on the rope again. Rarity tenses up, casting a scared look at the binding on her wrists, and Applejack eases up. “No, it... it’s not like that...”
She doesn’t understand. It’s like her head is hard as oak, not letting even a stray thought loose. Applejack grits her teeth – this is it, all her dreams come true, or some of ‘em, anyway, and she’s seizin’ up like an angry steer.
She closes her eyes. She wants to leave, to go home and throw up and forget this ever happened, to go back to knowing it can’t happen.
She almost wants to cry.
She doesn’t – she feels something smooth against her wrists. She opens her eyes.
“What’re you doing?” Applejack says.
“Tying your hands,” Rarity says, calm and prim, as she does just that. She loops the rope around Applejack’s wrists a few times, connecting them by a short length of shiny yellow nylon.
“What, you think I’m gonna lie to you?” Applejack says.
“Never,” Rarity says instantly. “That’s not how it works, anyway.”
“Huh?”
“If you get tied up, you lose all your powers,” Rarity says.
“Wait, what?” Applejack says. “You mean like in the comics again, don’t you?”
Rarity finishes the bind and lets her own fall loose, holding her end of the rope instead. “Not that I ever read any of them. But I’ll never let it be said that a Women’s Studies class can’t be utterly fascinating.”
Applejack flexes her wrists against the rope – it ain’t nothing but show. She could easily pull out of it.
But she doesn’t, for some reason.
“So...?” Applejack says.
“You know you don’t have to be so tough all the time,” Rarity says, holding the rope like a leash. “I just want you to be honest with me.”
“I am,” Applejack says. “I always am.”
Maybe too much, sometimes.
“Yes, indeed,” Rarity says, as if she’s heard Applejack’s thoughts. “But you and I both know you can put up some walls. Very stubborn ones, at that.”
Applejack snorts loudly.
“So. No dodging. No backing down,” Rarity says, her usually soft blue eyes all business. “Are you... how shall I put this... interested in other women?”
Applejack snaps her mouth shut, looks away, does anything to try not to look so guilty.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Rarity says smugly.
“I don’t know,” Applejack spits out. “It’s not like I ever... you know.”
“Hmm.” Rarity pauses, appearing to think. “Do you find me attractive?”
Applejack’s eyes bug out. Caught, just like that.
“I see! How curious,” Rarity titters. “And all this time...”
“Not like that!” Applejack yells.
Rarity pauses, startled enough to let the rope go slack.
“I mean... not like them,” Applejack says. “Don’t get me wrong, yer prettier than... hell, Rarity, you might be the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”
Rarity smirks and shrugs, with a Well, what was I expecting? air about her.
Applejack cringes and sucks in a breath.
Just say it. Just say it and lay it out and be done with it.
She blows it out, steeling herself up.
“I know I ain’t really your type,” she starts, feeling awful. She talks fast, eager to get it over with. “But I always... it’s dumb,” she admits, shaking her head. “I’m just some hayseed with a farm in a backwater town. You wouldn’t settle fer somethin’ like that. You shouldn’t.”
Rarity’s eyes go wide, and she covers her mouth with one hand.
“So there it is.” Applejack sulks. It feels better. Tooth pulled, old wound cleaned out, now just go home. “I don’t wanna be givin’ you the wrong idea, so’s I figured I’d just lay it out and we can move on. I can show myself out.”
She starts to get up. She feels a gentle tug at her wrists. She looks up, and Rarity’s eyes are shining, a trembling smile peeking around her hand.
“Applejack!” Rarity says, all breathless glee. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve looked at you and thought, Oh, if only?”
Applejack’s whole body gets goosebumps, every nerve at attention.
“How many times I’ve come back here after we’ve argued about something stupid, and I just... I just cried to myself, at myself, at you, at the injustice of the whole–”
Applejack’s mouth slowly falls open.
“Wondering if it was my fault,” Rarity goes on, “Being angry at you and then angry at myself for being angry at you...”
There’s no way. There’s just no way.
“And all the while I just think to myself, sometimes, that it could be so simple and then I feel foolish all over again...”
The words hurt and heal, awful and impossibly incredible, her own hidden thoughts spilling out of Rarity’s mouth somehow, and before Applejack knows it she’s done the only thing she can think of to make it better.
She darts forward and silences Rarity with her lips.
It’s just for one long, tense second, but she does it, and it’s done, and when she leans back and opens her eyes Rarity is staring at her with something short of wonder.
“I’m sorry,” Applejack blurts out. “For everything.”
Rarity returns the kiss, moving far faster than Applejack has ever seen before. She slams their lips together and Applejack barely closes her eyes in time, feeling her heart pounding now, feeling the soft touch of her skin and the ugly taste of her lipstick and it doesn’t even matter.
The first one was quick, a thing of panic. This one is a thing of beauty.
Applejack has a lot to learn. Rarity holds the kiss and makes it sing, teasing just enough with her tongue, slowly slipping her hands over Applejack’s, two pairs of hands held together close between them.
She’s forgotten to breathe. Rarity pulls back just in time, leaving Applejack to loudly gasp in great mouthfuls of air.
This is crazy. This is all crazy, can’t be real.
“Uh...” Applejack manages to say. “So...?”
“Consider that apology accepted,” Rarity says. She climbs up into Applejack’s lap, straddling her, pressing her bathrobe into Applejack’s arms and tickling with every little shift of her body.
Holy hell this IS real.
Rarity kisses her again, a brief peck, and Applejack can feel her smile through it. A real smile, that one she’s seen Rarity make now and then that just melts her heart and reminds her of all the reasons she likes the fussy excuse for a lady.
Rarity moves up, placing a gentle, deliberate kiss on Applejack’s nose and then her forehead. She slides her hands up and cradles Applejack’s head, then rests against her, nuzzling and sighing in one deep, unguarded breath.
Applejack’s hands are still loosely bound, pressed into Rarity’s body and stuck against the robe, pressed up against something soft and round and pleasantly hefty. Two somethings.
Not wearing a bra.
Applejack feels sweat break out on her shoulders, knows what little skin not hidden by freckles must be burning red. She tries to ignore that feeling coiling up tight low in her gut, to hold it off just a little longer.
“Are you...” she tries to say, and can’t find words. “Really?”
“Applejack,” Rarity whispers past her ear. “If I’d found a man even half as concerned with what I deserve as you, I’d have been married already.”
“I ain’t some fancy city folk,” Applejack protests. “All’s I got is that farm, and that’s–”
Rarity grabs the top of her corset, yanking her close. Her fingers are cold against Applejack’s skin, digging into the tops of her breasts and sending shivers through her skin.
“You’re the one overthinking this? Of the two of us, it’s you somehow?” Rarity says.
She doesn’t let Applejack respond – she pulls her into a kiss again, and this time it’s full speed ahead. Applejack feels her pressing her tongue in and tries to fight back, but Rarity’s gracefully dodges and dances around hers.
Her hands finally surrender – they turn and open on their own, taking an ample handful each.
“Mmm!” Rarity squeals quietly, digging her fingers into Applejack’s hair.
She feels Rarity’s thighs flex and squeeze and Applejack’s hips thrust in reply, pulling another demure squeal from her throat. Applejack snorts like a stallion, her nostrils flare out, good and truly feeling it now, allowing herself to feel it, that this is real and happening and real.
They break their kiss and Applejack starts to trail down, leaving sloppy kisses down the subtle curve of Rarity’s jaw and neck. Then she feels hands against her shoulders, and with a grunt that sends chills through Applejack’s hips, Rarity pushes her onto her back.
“Whoa! Heh,” Applejack says, her chest heaving against that damned corset. “Movin’ a little fast, ain’t we?”
“Oh no,” Rarity says, low and hungry. “I think we’ve put this off for far too long.”
She attacks again, pinning Applejack down and peppering her with graceful, longing kisses, punctuated every few seconds with a teasing bite on Applejack’s lower lip. Applejack grunts and pants and massages those lovely breasts through her robe – they’re not too big, not too small, perfectly shaped and heaving just right.
“Hey, uh–” Applejack gets out between kisses. “You wanna...Mmm... maybe let go-OH of that rope?”
Rarity stops, appraising her with a clever smile. “I don’t know, I quite like you this way.”
“Heh, what?”
Quick as a cat, Rarity darts forward and loops her end of the rope through the armrest. She yanks on her end, pulling Applejack’s arms up straight over her head.
“Whoa!” If Applejack’s heart was racing before, it’s running off a cliff now. She’s laid out before Rarity, exposed in a way that’s only a little uncomfortable.
On the other hand, she’s instantly, achingly, burningly wet.
“Yes, I think I like it very much,” Rarity says, and the look on her face matches the damp heat Applejack can feel between her legs.
“Kinda freaky, huh?” Applejack says, breaking out a breathless grin.
“Hmmm, maybe a little.”
She leans down, kissing and licking and nipping down Applejack’s neck. Applejack feels her shift her weight, feels her slipping one thigh between Applejack’s legs, spread wide now. She keeps stealing glances down – Rarity’s robe is hiked up, askew, showing miles of creamy pale legs. Rarity clamps those legs around one of Applejack’s thick thighs and rests her weight, moaning and giving a reflexive tug on the rope.
And boy howdy, Applejack can feel that against her leg, a glowing coal behind something thin and lacy.
Applejack pulls her hands down, feeling no resistance. She works them under Rarity’s chest and squeezes hard, letting her fingers slide until they meet stiff nipples to pinch.
“Mmm!” Rarity starts, yanking on the rope and sending Applejack’s hands up again. “Gently!”
Applejack nods, going slower this time. Rarity thanks her with a longer, slower kiss and a long, slow moan, sliding her free hand down and resting it on Applejack’s hip. She uses it to brace herself and rocks her hips, sliding that lovely coal across the leg of Applejack’s jeans.
“Mmmmm,” Rarity shudders, and the sound and feel of it makes Applejack clench everything in her hips. Hearing her like that, prim lil’ miss prima donna, moaning like she’s being bent over and –
“Mmmmm!” Rarity moans again, thrusting at an even pace, wrapping her fingers around Applejack’s belt and pulling her into every motion.
Applejack raises her arms and works them over Rarity’s head, resting them on her back and slowly, awkwardly dragging the robe down over her shoulders.
“I just love your legs,” Rarity says, nearly out of breath, not opening her eyes. “Have I ever told you how jealous I am of you sometimes?”
“Jealous of ME?”
“Your legs are so strong.”
Applejack smiles and flexes her thigh, feeling a tremor run through the soft flesh riding on it.
“Ooooooooh yes like that,” Rarity moans. “And I’d kill to have your rear, you know. Mine’s so skinny.”
If Applejack’s hands hadn’t been bound, she would’ve given that skinny rear a healthy slap. Instead she bites her tongue and finally yanks that pink cloth down, baring Rarity’s shoulders and those comely, lovely mounds on her chest. She leans in and growls, low and husky right in Rarity’s ear.
“You sayin’ you want a piece of my rear?”
She feels Rarity’s giggle in her chest, shaking those lovely breasts in her hands. “...Not your rear I’m interested in just now.”
And then her arms are empty, and Applejack gulps as Rarity climbs down, sliding her hands down Applejack’s chest and quivering belly and down to the tarnished buckle of her belt, her big, blue eyes never flinching for a second.
Applejack starts to follow her, to sit up and maybe lend a hand, but a sharp yank on the rope stretches her out flat again, hoisting her hands up to the armrest.
“Whoa!” Applejack gasps, just this side of nervous. “Oh boy.”
“Mmm!” Rarity smugly bites her lip. Somehow, through all the rope and empty bathrobe in the way, she works Applejack’s belt buckle open. Then she’s tearing through the fly and carefully, insistently yanking them down. Applejack lifts her butt just enough, feeling her jeans pulled down to the tops of her boots.
“Ugh, boy shorts,” Rarity says, but she’s smiling despite her tone. “Oh, I’ll have to do something about that.”
“What’s thaAH–” Applejack says, jerking as her underwear is expertly pulled down and tucked away with her jeans, “...that supposed to mean?”
Rarity doesn’t answer, not with words anyway. She slides her soft hands up Applejack’s legs, pressing her fingertips into the hard muscles there as she goes. Her fancy nails scratch just barely against the insides of Applejack’s thighs, forcing a low, choked whine to kick out of her throat.
She’s naked, in all the ways that matter. And Rarity is kissing her, brushing her lips over Applejack’s hips and lower belly.
She’s naked.
And Rarity is kissing her.
Applejack starts to thank her lucky stars, starts to wonder what it is she finally did right, but she’s interrupted by Rarity carefully running fingers through the wild patch of fine, cottony hair between her legs.
“It’s so soft,” Rarity says with childish glee. “And blonde!”
“Uh... yeah?” Applejack says.
Rarity’s delighted smile turns into a wicked, hungry grin. Her fingers tighten on Applejack’s thighs, and she lowers her head, pursing her lips to run them over Applejack’s...
“Whoa!” Applejack’s hips buck and she tries to close her legs, holding Rarity’s face inches away from her target.
“What?” Rarity says, pouting and impatient. “You want it, Applejack, I can see how badly.”
Applejack strains at the rope – this is so fast, ain’t it? Is it too fast? “You don’t... Rarity, you don’t gotta do that...”
Rarity frowns at her, pushing Applejack’s legs open with far more strength than Applejack thought was possible. “You still don’t get it, do you?”
Applejack blinks down at her, wide open and waiting. Rarity gives her the look, that look, eyebrows narrowed and sure, that look she gets when nothing and nobody is going to stop her.
“I want to,” Rarity says.
And then she dives in, locking her lips over Applejack’s and thrusting her tongue in hard.
Applejack’s hips thrust on their own, her eyes slamming shut as Rarity’s tongue rocks through her. Just like her other kisses, it’s graceful and quick, and then surprisingly firm, stroking up and down and peeking, teasing between the folds.
It’s almost too much. Applejack groans and wraps her end of the rope in her hands, finding no slack – Rarity holds her tight, her smile growing every time Applejack pulls. Her other hand keeps stroking through that hair she’s so taken with, bunching it up in her fingers and sending little stinging tickles up into Applejack’s throat.
Applejack rolls her hips with every stroke of that tongue – she isn’t even meaning to.
This... WOW... didn’t have to... so soon?
And kinda weird, with the rope and all.
Oh who am I kidding?
Applejack is panting wildly, the corset straining at her chest tighter than ever. Her body is plenty fine with this, far more fine with it than she can quite bring herself to admit. She just hadn’t thought – imagined, really, when she let herself feel foolish – she’d thought it would be a few slow dates, thought Rarity would wanna be courted all proper-like...
“AH!” Applejack bucks harder – Rarity is sliding her mouth up just enough, searching at the top of her mound. She finds what she’s looking for, and pinches it between her lips so hard that Applejack chokes in what would’ve been a louder, more embarrassing yelp.
“What... wha... oh, golly,” Applejack says, fighting for breath, “What happened to gently?”
“Mmm,” Rarity says, deviously, letting the vibrations speak through her lips. “I think we’re far past that, dear.”
Applejack shudders and almost melts.
Oh, is THAT how it is?
She finally lets go and squeezes with her legs, cutting them loose.
“Mmm?!” Rarity’s face is trapped and smothered, ground into Applejack’s crotch as she writhes against her.
“Heh,” Applejack pins her there, thighs flexing like carved wood, closing her eyes and biting her lip as she grinds against Rarity. “What were you sayin’ about my legs?”
“Mmmm... Mmmmmmm...” Rarity trails off, her eyes dreamy and dazed.
“Aw... awwww YEAH.” Applejack rides with it, finally feeling it, feeling it’s okay and it’s really happening and she wants it, they both want it, Rarity is moaning between her legs right now and dragging her tongue inside her and damn if it isn’t better than she ever could’ve...
Rarity taps her stomach a few times, punctuating it with a few gentle pulls on the rope.
“Huh?” Applejack eases up, relaxing her thighs. “Shoot, I ain’t chokin’ you or anything, am I?”
Rarity ignores her – she’s gasping for breath, sure, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She climbs up and tears her bathrobe off, tossing it across the room. Then she’s less-than-gracefully clambering, swinging her legs over...
Oh HELL yes.
And then her knees are planted on either side of Applejack’s head. Her panties are black and lacey and the kind that... well not a thong, but cut real high on her butt kinda like a thong and...
What the hell do you even call those anyway?
“Guh!” Applejack forgets the thought as Rarity goes back to work on her, moaning and groaning and working her tongue between Applejack’s legs in all kinds of right ways.
Applejack feels her hands pulled tight again in time with Rarity grinding her hips down, smothering Applejack in smooth, damp fabric and thick, cloying smell. Her mouth waters and she blindly kisses up at whatever she can catch, feeling the shivering, trembling mound hiding behind those damn panties, wanting to get more of the taste.
She fights to bring her hands in but Rarity won’t let her. Instead, Rarity slips her hand in and frantically tears the front of her panties to the side, and now she’s smothering Applejack, rubbing wet, slick, hot beauty right over her mouth and nose. Applejack’s eyes roll back as she finally tastes it, aching to dive in deeper.
They twist and fumble and shift around – so close, so close, Applejack can feel Rarity’s moans pick up, feel her belly sucking in with higher, trembling, flighty breaths. She cranes her neck up, pressing her tongue in deep and feeling it pinched between velvety walls, scootches just a bit to get deeper –
Applejack shifts her weight again, and feels nothing under half her butt.
Uh oh.
There’s one, silent, hovering moment, both of them right on the edge. Applejack’s arms try to move, to steady them, and strain uselessly at the rope instead.
“AHHHH!” Rarity cries out, not in passion, but instead in shock as they both go tumbling off the edge of the chaise lounge.
It’s a mess – a tangled, roped up mess. Applejack grunts and Ooofs and Ouches as they hit the floor and go rolling, her hands still hitched to the armrest. Their legs knock the base of a mannequin out from under it, dropping it into a pile of cloth and spilling things every which way.
Rarity is tangled against her, still panting and flushed, ass high in the air in a way that would probably upset her quite a bit. Applejack can’t tell if she just came or if she’s furious that she didn’t.
“...Well shoot,” Applejack says.
“...Yes...” Rarity gathers herself, still breathing in weak, trembling sighs. She turns around and helps Applejack fumble with the rope, pulling it until she’s free of the armrest. “...Shoot.”
“You okay?”
“Mmhmm.” Rarity lies against her, just snuggling, sharing the heat and sweat between them before the cool air can make things uncomfortable. She opens her eyes and they catch on something right away. “Oh!”
She reaches past Applejack, rummaging around in the mess they just made. She finds it, and Applejack feels it being put on her head.
The tiara, from earlier. Just a simple thing, cheap plastic pretending it’s gold, with a red star on the front.
“There,” Rarity says, sounding very satisfied. “I knew something was missing.”
Applejack looks up. She can’t see it, of course, but she does it anyway. “I don’t think Wonder Woman would’ve fallen off the couch like that.”
Rarity giggles against her. “Chaise lounge.”
“Right,” Applejack chuckles back. “Chaise lounge.”
She holds Rarity close, feeling her quiet giggles slowly turn into real laughs. Not fake laughs, not for show. The real thing.
Applejack laughs back, and hers are real too – not strained, or held back, not dry or wistful, just real, happy laughter.
Rarity kisses her on the nose, her fingers playfully working their way along the side of the corset, slowly undoing the hooks on its sides.
But she doesn’t tear it off right away. They just hold each other for a while instead, taking their time with it.
Applejack sighs loudly. No rush, no reason to. For once, finally, it feels like everything is gonna work out okay.