//------------------------------// // The Little Things // Story: Where Night Meets Day // by _Medicshy //------------------------------// The Cutie Mark Crusaders were an unstoppable force in Ponyville, running together as the strongest knit team anypony could ever imagine for years. They'd tried everything from skydiving to underwater basket weaving, taken lessons from Princess Twilight, and even gone on their own adventures into the deep, dark Everfree Forest to find their talents, and yet nothing ever seemed to work, though they never let it get them down. Not even when they became not only the last in their class, but the last in the whole school to earn their cutie marks. Not even when they started getting an interest in other ponies and dating. They didn't even lose faith or each other's support when one of them found herself in trouble. Scootaloo had been a little off for a few weeks before they figured it out. She'd gotten really close to Featherweight over the last few years, though nopony realized how close until the others walked in on her throwing up in the back of the clubhouse, the remnants of her latest food concoction laying on the pillow where she'd left it. “Pickles and strawberry jam?” Sweetie Belle said with a grimace, picking up the jam jar in her magic. “That's...” She paused as she contemplated the jar with the pickle dipped into it. “The word yer lookin' for is 'gross,' Sweetie Belle,” said Apple Bloom, padding over to the bucket Scootaloo was hunched over. “It's no wonder yer sick, Scoots, I can't think of a single pony that could stomach that mess.” A single nod was all Apple Bloom got in response before Scootaloo's small orange wings shot out, her whole body lurching forwards as her stomach emptied itself. Sweetie Belle stood behind the two of them, chewing softly. “You've been eating the weirdest things, Scootaloo, and this isn't the first time you've been sick. Are you sure you're feeling alright?” Scootaloo lifted her head from the bucket, the green in her cheeks far too similar to the main color swirling in the liquid. “I dunno what happened. One minute I was fine, the next I-” her eyes went wide, but luckily she was able to redirect before a mess was made. Apple Bloom took the jam jar, wondering for a moment where the pickle went, before closing the lid and putting it back in the snack pantry. “Maybe you should see a doctor. It might be some kinda flu, or an allergy poppin' up, or...” As the thought hit her, she turned, watching Sweetie Belle massaging Scootaloo's back. “Scootaloo. How long have you 'n Feather been datin'?” Scootaloo tried to sign with a free hoof, her mumble barely escaping the bucket it was trapped in. Luckily, Sweetie was there to translate. “Three years. Remember when he met her in the hospital, and we'd been going on about her and Bluebell, and-” “Right,” Apple Bloom said dismissively, not needing a reminder of that particular incident. “Three years, and yer still goin' strong right?” Scootaloo nodded, wiping her mouth with the back of her hoof. Sweetie frowned at that, getting a napkin from one of their many stashes. “So... have you two... well...” Apple Bloom scrunched up her face, not really wanting to say the words on her mind. “...done it?” Sweetie's mouth hung open. “Apple Bloom! You can't just go and ask a filly about something so private! It's not ladylike!” “This ain't about bein' ladylike, Sweetie. 'N we're friends! We ain't never worried about bein' 'ladylike' to each other before.” The farm filly shot a glare towards Sweetie Belle, pushing her bow up in her hair for added emphasis. Sweetie huffed, pouting at her glaring friend. “It's still rude. Rarity told me that a true lady never kisses and tells, and made me promise not to tell mom or anypony about all the stallions she brought up to her room or any of the noises I...” Sweetie's eyes widened, realizing what she was saying and seeing the stares from the other two fillies. “Oops...” “There's an image I really didn't need in my head...” said Scootaloo, getting ready to go outside and dump the bucket somewhere. Apple Bloom nodded slowly, her face even more screwed up than when she asked the question. “Yeah... Thanks Sweetie. Gonna take a long time to get rid 'a that one..” She shook her head, stopping Scootaloo at the door. “Still... did ya?” Scootaloo took a step back, looking at Apple Bloom like she was crazy. “Pff, why?” “Well... you remember that special class we had with Cheerilee, where she was talking about fillies an' colts an' had that banana 'n those little rubber thingies?” “Yeah?” replied Scootaloo flatly. “An' remember how she said that it was a perfec'ly nat'ral thing, but you should wait until you love each other 'n are ready, an' you 'n Featherweight turned bright red 'n looked at each other with wide eyes 'n started gigglin'?” The answer was defensive this time. “...Yeah?” Apple Bloom just looked at Scootaloo expectantly, which caused Scootaloo to try to push past her again, tired of waiting for the point. This drew an annoyed sigh from Apple Bloom. “Am I gonna have ta spell it out for ya?” Scootaloo snorted at her, stomping hard and causing the bucket hanging from her wing to sway dangerously. “So what if we did, huh? What's the big deal? You gonna go tell Cheerilee?” “No! I wasn' even thinkin' that! I-” “Or maybe you'll start getting mad at Featherweight for pushing me into it, right? Because obviously I couldn't want to.” “What?! No!” Apple Bloom shook her head, seeing she'd definitely hit a nerve. “That's not what I'm sayin'! It's just that-” Scootaloo leveled a glare at the farm filly, daring her to continue.“Well we both wanted to, alright? And it felt so good we did it more than once!” “Scootaloo! You don't have to tell us, it's private...” said Sweetie Belle, her cheeks going red at the thought. “Apple Bloom sure seems interested. We even did it in here a couple times! Is that what you wanted to hear?” Both of the other fillies looked at the angry orange pegasus, stunned that she would do something like that in their most private of places. “Right over there.” Scootaloo pointed to the pile of pillows where her jam had rested earlier. “Eeeeeeeeeew!” Sweetie scuttled away from the spot, then, realizing something, she ran towards it again. “I need to wash the pillows!” As she got close, however, she didn't want to touch them, fighting with herself until, tentatively, she wrapped one in her magic. It didn't even leave the floor before she squealed with disgust and dropped it again. Apple Bloom recovered faster, glaring at Scootaloo. “I don' care where ya did it, an' I ain't gonna yell at ya for bein' too young or anythin' like that. I got enougha that from my sister when I mentioned Cheerilee's lesson.” Scootaloo huffed again, walking towards the door outside. A hoof on her shoulder stopped her, Apple Bloom's face coming up right next to hers. “I'm just worried for ya, Scoots. Yer actin' weird 'n been gettin' sick, an'... I think I might know why.” Scootaloo glared sideways at her friend, in no mood for the interrogation she'd gotten. “Why?” Apple Bloom's face was serious, showing the gravity of the situation. “I think you might be pregnant.” Scootaloo's pupil's shrank slightly, but her face stayed angry against that spark of fear. “What?” From the other side of the room, the pillow dropped from Sweetie's magic grip, her face the picture of shock. “What?!” Apple Bloom looked between both of them, explaining herself. “Her temper, the weird sad moments, the tired spells, the gross foods-” “It didn't taste that bad, actually...” muttered Sweetie. Apple Bloom continued, not even noticing the interjection. “-the way she keeps throwin' up... Applejack went through all a this just last month, an' when she went to the doctor, she came back sayin' I was gonna be a aunt.” Scootaloo shook her head, backing away from Apple Bloom, the bucket landing heavily on the floor, though its contents kept it upright. “No... You're wrong.” “I hope I am, Scoots, but... I think you should check. You should get Cheerilee to take you to a doctor, an-” “No!” Scootaloo backed to the door, looking fearfully between the two other fillies in the room. “No Cheerilee, no doctor! I'm... I'm not...” She slumped in the door frame. “No...” Apple Bloom took a step towards her, but in an instant she was out the door, moving with amazing speed as she grabbed her scooter and shot into town. Apple Bloom ran after her, kicking things out of her way, but only able to watch the dust trail raised in Scootaloo's wake. “Apple Bloom... we've got a problem.” Sweetie Belle called from inside. Apple Bloom sighed, watching the dust settle. “I know, Sweetie Belle, but we're a trio. Even if I'm right, we'll help her through it.” Sweetie shook her head. “No, that's worrying and everything, but we have a bigger problem.” Apple Bloom turned around, confused. “What could be bigger than... oh horseapples.” Just inside the door, swirling with far more colors than it should have, the contents of the upturned bucket turned Apple Bloom's stomach. She looked from the offending glop to Sweetie Belle, noticing the green tinge to the unicorn's alabaster cheeks. With a defeated sigh and drooping, though carefully raised so as not to touch the floor, tail, Apple Bloom trod through the puddle to get the mop. Flora looked up into the clear afternoon sky, wiping her brow of sweat with her bandanna before looking around. It was day two of Apple Buck Season, and while the work was hot and slow, there were already almost two fields of apple trees freshly picked of their apples. The smell of the ripe red fruits all around her was astounding, as it was every year she'd helped Jazz out. Combined with the smell of the dirt baking around her hooves, the scent was truly comforting in its own way. She'd spent a lot of time in Sweet Apple Acres as a filly, and the years hadn't taken that joy from her yet. As her eyes scanned the trees, she wasn't quite able to spot anypony else working, or even the telltale shaking of trees being bucked. Sure, it was just her and Jazz out here, but a sign she wasn't the only pony actually working would've been appreciated. However, since she couldn't see anypony, that meant they couldn't see her either. Thankful of that fact, she sat in the shade of the tree she'd just bucked with a tired sigh, leaning against its trunk and relishing the shade it gave her. The trees here were healthy, at least as much so as any sapling she'd tried to grow in the greenhouse, and she really didn't know how they did it. She regulated the temperature, she kept the water at the best level she'd found, she took great care with the soil, making sure each pot had all the nutrients it could need, and still the ones growing in these fields were more beautiful, healthier, and happier than any she'd cultivated. Even the ones she'd transplanted were doing better out here under the Apples' care... She'd never been able to figure out how they did it. But she was more than happy to enjoy the fruits of their labor, especially when her stomach grumbled that lunchtime had passed. Smiling to herself, she grabbed one of the apples from the top of the nearest bushel, buffing it on her coat for a moment before biting in. There weren't any apples better than the ones that grew here... She couldn't confirm, since she hadn't actually ever gotten apples from anywhere else, but she was sure it was a fact nonetheless. With a bright smile to herself, she took another bite, feeling the juice of the freshly picked apple running down her muzzle, its sweetness better than any dessert at this moment. “Hey! I was gonna invite ya in for lunch, but I guess you'd rather be out here eatin' my profits.” Flora jumped at the sound of the voice, hopping up to her hooves and dropping the apple into her bandanna, wiping her muzzle free of the incriminating juice as she did so. Her cleaning up done, she turned towards the voice's owner, smiling playfully. “Like you don't sneak a bite of the merchandise yourself, Jazz.” Jazz Apple chuckled at Flora's behavior, tossing an apple core behind him as he walked towards her, his rich red fur speckled with sweat. “A' course I do! We've got the best apples in all a Equestria, an ain't nopony else ever gonna claim that title.” He smirked, the yellow freckles on his cheeks shifting as he did and his hazel eyes beaming harder than his smile was. “Still, Big Mac worked hard on lunch, so we can't fill up out here.” He effortlessly picked up the bushels beneath the trees, putting the heavy weight on his back. “You comin'?” Flora reached up to the slightly taller stallion's head, tousling his leaf green mane. “Of course! Why didn't you tell me sooner?” “You were further in than I thought. Took a bit ta find ya,” he said as they both started towards the farm house. “Been at least ten minutes since he rang the bell. Didn't ya hear it?” Flora shook her head. “No, I think I zoned out for a bit thinking about the field. Working out here, your mind just kind of wanders.” Jazz chuckled again. “I know what ya mean. Some of my best inspiration hit me while I was out here buckin' trees. It's the perfect place to think when ya need ta.” He sped up after that, trotting a bit faster. “Big Mac's already waitin', an' ya know what he's like when ya keep him waitin'.” Flora smirked to herself. Yup. Quiet and calm, like he always is. She didn't say it though, content to simply speed up for the rest of the journey to the house. The farm house had stood in the same spot for... ever, so far as Flora could tell, and she doubted it would ever move or change, its old charm still holding it up as strong as ever. The age on the deck boards was astounding, as was the sheer number of family pictures lining the walls of the stairs and hallway once you got inside, but the warmth and hominess of the place never seemed to fade, even as the number of ponies in it dwindled. She remembered parties held in this house when she was younger, Pinkie Pie bouncing all over the place, and even more fondly remembered the Apple Family Reunion she'd gotten invited to, with more Apples than she could begin to remember crowding the building and the fields. She'd been so young back then and there was so much going on that she'd freaked out and hid in the hayloft until Jazz had come up and pulled her back down, playing bodyguard for the rest of the day. And, somehow, even though the last reunion was ten years ago, the house still felt like it was just waiting for the next one, like it would happen any day now. So different from her home... She was brought out of her thoughts when she reached the dining room, sitting down at the table and waiting as Jazz went into the kitchen. Moments later he came out with a tray piled with apple fritters, his uncle Big Macintosh coming in behind him, dwarfing Jazz in both broadness and height. He'd seemed like such an imposing, strong figure when Flora was younger, but when she'd finally gotten to know him, he was an incredibly gentle pony, and almost always up for a piggy back ride or other game when he wasn't working. Though his cooking wasn't nearly as good as Applejack's. These fritters were sweet, and they were just the fuel to get back out working, but after biting into the apple earlier, she wished she could have gotten one of Jazz's mom's fritters instead. But... she hadn't visited home much in ten years either... And nopony else seemed to mind. Jazz was smiling as he ate his lunch, and Big Mac, while never talkative, was also contentedly eating away. When Jazz had gotten some food in him, he started to brief Mac on the fields and the progress, including how far Flora had gotten and the weather plans for the next few days from Silver. Big Mac just nodded silently, though there was a longing in his eyes like he wanted to be out there. It really was too bad about his back. Three years ago he'd thrown it out so badly the doctors forbade him from working the fields any more, though he still helped out with little things from time to time. Still, it must have been hard for the big, strong stallion to be relegated inside when the younger, smaller Jazz took over the work. At Mac's age, though, he was still looking fit, and he still did more than enough to keep the house in order. With how nice it was in here, nopony would ever suspect it was a home to two stallions and nopony else. Without her realizing, Flora found herself taking the last fritter on the plate, officially finishing off their lunch break. She'd been caught up in the memories... it was much too easy to do. Big Mac started to clean up while Jazz and Flora headed back outside, chatting a little on their way back to the fields. “Say, you wouldn't happen to be available for the zap apple harvest, would ya? It's at least a month off yet, but we could really use yer hooves out here like ya were last year.” Flora nodded. “Sure. The greenhouse tends to run itself this time of year, so as long as mom goes back to the shop at some point, it should be no issue.” Jazz beamed at her. “Great! After that it's just cider season, an' me 'n Mac should be able to take care a that until the jazz apples start growin', an' then yer gonna have to help me set up that house again, 'cus I still don't have it down.” Flora rolled her eyes. “Come on, Jazz! These apples are named after you! You'd think you'd have figured out how to take care of them by now.” Jazz looked at her sheepishly. “I ain't any good with buildin' stuff. That's mostly Mac's job, an' even he don't ever get your greenhouse thingy right. But I promise I'll make it up to ya! Whatever ya want.” Flora smirked at him, lowering her eyelids dangerously. “You sure you want to make me that promise, Jazz?” Jazz laughed at her antics. “Hey, for a friend that helps out here as much as ya do, an' who works even harder 'n me sometimes, I'll take whatever ya throw at me.” Flora laughed as well. “Alright! It's a deal! But you better not back out.” Jazz's face grew serious for a moment. “I'm an Apple, Flora. We're ponies of our word.” He tried to look serious for longer, but he couldn't hold it and ended up laughing even harder. “Right, well, I'll meet ya at the end of the field. Let's see if we can get it done b'fore nightfall.” With that he split off to find where he'd stopped earlier, leaving Flora to navigate the rest of her way through the trees to where she'd started her break. Within moments she found it, smiling as a breeze brought the ripe smell of the orchard to her once more, cooling her down after her walk out. It was going to be another few hours of work... And there was no time to start like the present. With a spin and a well aimed kick, apples fell into the baskets all around her, work beginning as if she hadn't left at all. Flora kicked the last tree at the edge of the field just as the sky began to turn orange, wiping her brow and breathing heavily as she did. She didn't know why the Northwest field always seemed so much bigger after lunch, but from down here it looked like it was done. She'd have to go up on the hill to make sure, and then there was still carting the apples back to the barn, but if they kept up this rate they would have the last field done by the night of the Grand Galloping Gala... not that any of them were going, but it wouldn't make it any less of an accomplishment. Getting all four fields done in four days was a real task, especially for just two ponies, but this year she had a feeling they could do it. She heard a crack and the rustling of another tree not far away, looking into the center to see Jazz getting the apples off of a tree further in. She trotted lightly towards him, fully intent to ask him where the cart was, when she heard something she wasn't expecting. It was a whistle of surprise, coming from Jazz himself as he looked over the few rows to the end of the field. He spotted her as she came up and pointed to her work. “Did ya buck all them trees already, or did the fruit bats get out?” Flora nodded, looking at them tiredly. “Nope! No fruit bats that I saw. I reached the end of my half and saw you weren't done. I was on a roll, I just figured I'd keep going.” Jazz chuckled to himself. “You really are somethin' special, Flora. Anypony I'd a hired woulda ditched once the job was done, an' here ya are doin' my work for me.” Flora looked confused, her smirk growing even as her muscles ached from all her work. “Why wouldn't I? I like the orchard, and we've known each other how long?” Her smirk fell as she remembered what had brought her this way and not to the hill to survey their work. “So where are the carts to load the bushels in? Are they still at the halfway point from earlier?” “Yeah. I'll go get 'em. You just rest for a bit. You've earned it.” Jazz hurried into the orchard, sweat dripping off of him from his own work, but Flora guessed he didn't want to be shown up by her. Still, a little break was welcome, and it would give her time to survey the field, so she went back to its edge, climbing up the hill there and stopping in the shade of the tree. It wasn't an apple tree, one of a very small number of non-apple trees growing in Sweet Apple Acres, but one she suspected was purely there for ponies to do what she was doing now: surveying a job well done as the sun began to set over the fields. Every single one of them was visible from this spot: the one they'd done yesterday, green and lush, the one they'd just finished with all the baskets beneath it, the two left to do, their apples hanging shiny and ready, and the four other fields, two of which were sanctuaries for the fruit bats, both vampire and regular, and one that simply wasn't being used. There were a few trees there with apples on them, but that was where the Iron Pony competition had been held a few times, as well as where the club house was. At least, she hoped it was still there. It was hard to tell among the trees, but it had to be in that field. The other one was for other crops, the corn and wheat and carrots and things the family needed to live. One of these days she'd have to go see if it was still there... Soon enough she saw Jazz parking the carts at the bottom of the hill, unhooking two from the train of four and setting up a second harness on them. By the time she'd trotted down to meet him, he was done. They helped each other make sure the harnesses were comfortable and easy to get out of, then they each took half the field and started their collection run, getting the contents of all the baskets into the carts behind them. Both of them hauled their full carts to the barn just as twilight hit, the sky over the orchard looking absolutely magnificent. Neither of them were much up to enjoy it, however, as they both were panting and sweating from dragging the load back. After a quick drink from the water pump by the barn, Jazz looked at Flora. “You comin' in for dinner? I dunno what Mac's cookin', but it's bound to be good.” Flora shook her head. “No, I've got to get home and check on a few things. Thanks for the offer though. I'll see you in the morning.” As she started off, she heard Jazz speaking to her again. “You know... I appreciate the work you do around here. I dunno if I've said it enough, but I do.” She turned around, smiling brightly to him despite her weary body and not really knowing where the sudden praise was coming from. “Thank you. It's a pleasure. But if I don't head out soon, I won't be able to help out tomorrow.” Jazz smiled back. “I'll see ya then.” With a wave Flora left, walking the long road back to town, and then walking through the empty Ponyville streets back to her house, finally finishing the apple from lunch as she went. It wasn't nearly enough. She was tired, and she really wanted to have stayed for food back in the Acres, but as much as she wished for a similar treatment at home, she knew what she would find. When she finally opened her front door, Dot's food bowl was empty, the dog looking at her sadly for how long she'd waited, and there was no pleasant cooking smell in the house. It was musty and cold, the house still all day. Walking even slower than she had from the farm, the sadly familiar weight settling once more on her shoulders, Flora went to the kitchen, washing her hooves and starting up the ingredients for a stir fry: something warm, quick, and filling. As the pan heated up, she fed Dot, and then she got the veggies sizzling as soon as she could. When she was done, which hadn't taken long, but had felt like forever to her hungry stomach, she served up two portions, taking them upstairs and knocking on her mother's door. When there was no reply, she opened it, finding Rose curled up on the bed in almost the same position she'd been in that morning. Only the bookmark further in the book suggested anything at all had happened that day. With a few kind words pulled from her weary brain, Flora managed to rouse her mother, and they shared a bit of conversation while they ate in the bedroom. Rose hadn't gone to work today... again. Luckily for her, Flora had checked up on the list she'd put on the shop door, and there were actually two orders to be taken care of. It took a bit of convincing, but eventually Rose believed Flora was telling the truth and promised to go in the next morning. The food done, Flora took the dishes back downstairs, washing them and putting them away before checking the clock... It was far later than she wanted it to be, considering when she'd have to get up to get to the orchards on time. As much as she wanted a shower, and she really wanted a shower, it would just have to wait. Her eyelids were fighting with her, and it was a battle she was glad to lose. She moved heavily to her room, flopped down on her bed, and was practically asleep before she hit the mattress, her bandanna still tied around her neck. Flora worked hard for the next two days as well, bucking trees and getting fruit into the barn with a surprising amount of zeal for how tired she really was. Between caring for her own plants, getting her mother motivated and into her shop, and the actual heavy manual labor of the fields, she'd nearly collapsed on the walk home the night before. But she'd made it back, and found the pleasant surprise of a home cooked meal waiting for her, though Rose had already returned to her room. Still, it was good to see her mother in high enough spirits to cook this close to the Gala. She had even gone to the shop this morning, just in case there was a last minute customer in need of the perfect scent for this evening's party. Knowing her mother was out of her stuffy room, and even better, out of the house, had kept a smile on Flora's face all through the last field, and it was still there now, hidden under the dirt, sweat, and strain of pulling the final cart of apples to the barn. It didn't even fade as she wiped her brow for the umpteenth time with her now damp bandanna, surveying her and Jazz's work. Sweet Apple Acres was bare, not a single apple on the trees in its orchard. It had taken four days of constant kicking, but finally it was done, just as the sun lowered enough to turn the whole sky ripe apple red. With a nudge from her aching leg, Flora closed the barn door behind her, starting on the path back to town. She was stopped before she could get more than a few yards. “Now where d'ya think yer goin', Flora? Tryin' ta sneak off after all this work without so much as a g'bye! It's downright rude.” Jazz stood on the porch of the house, eyes frowning, but a smile on his lips. “I know ya didn't wan' ta have dinner with us the last few days, but yer not gettin' out of it tonight.” Flora drooped her head, her ears, and her tail, giving Jazz a pitiful look. “I'm tired, Jazz, and the fields are done. I was going to celebrate with a good night's rest.” “And ya can!” Jazz said as he bounded off the porch and trotted to Flora's side. “Right after dinner. Now c'mon.” With an encouraging voice and more encouragement in the shape of his head pushing into her side, Flora was knocked off the path home. She rolled her eyes, but got the hint, turning around to head back to the house. She didn't get more than a few steps before she was stopped again. “Where do you think yer goin'?” Jazz asked playfully. Flora looked confused. “Into the house. You said something about dinner?” Jazz smiled. “I did. But it's not in the house. Follow me.” Without a moment's pause he went off the trail towards one of the unused fields. Flora really wasn't in the mood for this. “Jazz, where are we going?” Jazz rolled his eyes. “You'd see in a moment if ya'd just follow! Now c'mon. Ya even know the way.” He didn't stop for any further questions, moving on ahead and leaving Flora to follow, which she did. Fairly soon, she was able to recognize a path, overgrown a little where it hadn't been much walked. It went past some familiar landmarks: the plow rusted into the dirt, the picnic bench nopony seemed to use anymore, over the creek... with each step, she remembered her younger days, running excitedly along this same path. She knew what was at the end, she just hoped in her growing excitement that it was still there. She ducked under the final low hanging branch, hanging much lower than she ever remembered it, and then... There it was. The club house, built into the big tree ages ago. She'd been there when it was given to Jazz by his aunt Apple Bloom, slightly worse for wear, but nothing a little paint and nails couldn't fix... She could still see the fixes, sitting like they had for years. Jazz smiled from where he was halfway up the ramp. “Brings back memories, don' it?” “Yeah...” Flora started up behind him, smiling. “I haven't been out here since we all got our cutie marks and ponies started moving away, and the last dinner we had out here was during that sleep over where we snuck all that cider, and Silver drank so much that she got sick and puked out the window.” Jazz's grin grew as he stood in front of the door, waiting for her to catch up. “Yeah, well, this'll be a lot better 'n that.” He then pushed the door open, gesturing inside. Everything was exactly as she remembered it, though a lot smaller. The snack pantry, the sink, the one board they couldn't get to stay down, the observatory, even the thinking corner, which still held all their plans from when they were younger scrawled on papers on its walls. It hadn't changed a bit, though the telltale signs of a recent dusting could be seen, as well as a few other preparations. The room was lit by firefly lanterns, four in the corners and one sitting on a meticulously prepared table, set for two, with a spread that would make anypony hungry. Not for abundance or decadence, but simply for how amazing it smelled. In truth, it was little more than a salad, a soup, and a pie, but the aroma wafting from it spoke of the care and work that went into the meal, with only the best ingredients and the ponies eating it in mind. It said without words that it would never show up in a fancy restaurant, because a meal this good could only be made at home. Jazz chuckled a little as Flora walked into the room. “It's holdin' up well, isn't it?” Flora nodded as she looked around, memories hitting her before her eyes fixed on the food. “Yeah. I can hardly believe it! There are buildings in town in worse shape than this. Though the new addition is appreciated.” Jazz tapped the floor with a hoof. “Apple Family craftin'! I might not 'a got the knack for it, but that don't change that what we build stays.” With a little pride in his walk, he went to the table, grabbing one of the bowls and carefully filling it to the brim with soup before setting it down in front of Flora. “After all the work you put in on the farm, I thought I'd do somethin' nice for ya, an' since I know how much fun we had here as foals, I thought I'd throw a little party here in appreciation.” Flora looked at the empty clubhouse, raising an eyebrow. “This is a party?” “It was gonna be, but I ain't very good at parties, so I guess it's just a dinner?” Jazz asked as he served himself, obviously hoping it was alright. Flora just smiled, taking in the familiar room. After all these years, this was still her second home, and she couldn't be happier. “I dunno how I would've reacted to a party, so this is probably better. You remember what happened at the family reunion.” Jazz's smile returned. “Yeah, you hid up in the hay loft, and you wouldn't come down until I promised you wouldn't get trampled.” With a hoof he signaled that dinner was served, watching as Flora sat down and prepared to eat. Flora grabbed her spoon, barely able to use it as the tantalizing aroma hit her once more. Luckily, she remembered at the last moment to cool the liquid before putting it in her mouth, and immediately she was glad she did. The flavor danced on her tongue, balanced amazingly between the spices and the sweetness of the apples she knew were in there somewhere. With an 'mmm' of pleasure she swallowed it down. “This is amazing! Give Big Mac my regards.” Jazz's smile grew larger. “I'm sure he'd like 'em, but they belong to me, thanks.” The shock on Flora's face was undeniable. “Wait, you made this?” She took another spoonful in her mouth, making sure that what she had tasted wasn't a fluke. It wasn't. “Yup. And I'll bet ya that the rest is just as good.” Jazz said as he continued to eat, though the joy on his face kept spreading, even when Flora was silent, disbelieving of the taste. Eventually, after far more than enough time had passed for the silence to become awkward, Jazz started to ask about her life. Little things, like how the garden and Rose's shop were doing or if Dot was doing well, and Flora answered, letting the taste puzzle slide to the back of her mind. She returned the questions she didn't already know the answer to, asking if he'd heard anything about his mother or aunt and the war effort, or if they'd be home any time soon. The answer was, unfortunately, no. As the salad was served, with a dressing that balanced everything magnificently, the conversation moved on to the town. Despite Flora living in Ponyville proper, Jazz had his hoof much more firmly on the pulse of the town. Being in the market on a regular basis probably helped with that, as he was able to see the faces disappearing from week to week. Another three ponies had gotten called in for the draft since last week, and he wasn't sure how many more could disappear. The signs were there, with a few buildings abandoned as their residents went to Canterlot for training. Shops had closed down from a lack of customers, while others only stayed open on the good will of those who remained. At their age group, almost nopony was left, and lately Jazz had been getting some very stern looks from ponies wondering why he wasn't gone, or sad ones wishing he was their little colt... Another silence fell over the table then, one that threatened to pull the whole mood into the dark, but Flora managed to salvage it at the last moment. She managed to steer the conversation towards the few that were still around, which mostly meant herself, him, Silver, and what they'd all been up to recently. All three were busy at their respective jobs, but that didn't mean they weren't still the best of friends. In fact, they were still proud of the fact that they were the only members of the Ponyville Cutie Mark Crusaders, and now that she was in the clubhouse, the memories flowed. Whether it was the time that Silver had tried to take them all skydiving, or the time Flora was convinced she was supposed to be a miner and had dug a hole in the middle of Ponyville Square, or the time that Jazz's sisters and Flora's sister had both been dragged along on order of their respective mothers, and what resulted was the single messiest water balloon fight ever as both sides found the paint buckets hidden in the barn. There was even the outline of one of Silver's wings in a paint splatter on the floor of the club house, which she was able to find after a few minutes of searching. The fact that it was still there and the reenactment Flora gave of the moment sent both herself and Jazz into a laughing fit. It had taken a little coaxing, but by the time the salad was gone and the pie was out, both ponies were smiling and chatting away, all heaviness of the outside world dispelled in a shroud of memories. They might have belonged to times past, true, but that didn't mean they couldn't be seen again. If anything, that was what the ponies who left were fighting for... though Flora didn't mention her thoughts on that. She was too busy enjoying her evening. Once she actually took a bite of the pie, however, she immediately went silent, placing her pie piece back on the plate and scrutinizing it carefully. After a few moments, and more than one confused look from Jazz, she sat up, looking puzzled. “Okay, I'm stumped. How do you make pie this good, and why didn't I know this before now?” Jazz laughed again, adding to the mirth in the air around them. “Ma taught me, an' ya didn't know 'cus Big Mac does all the cookin' when I'm in the fields, an' ya only ever come over then. Like I said at the start, I thought I'd do somethin' nice for ya.” Jazz had placed the other dishes in the sink once they were done, leaving only the two of them, the pie, and the lanterns in the room, the fireflies still glowing strong. However, as Flora took another bite, she had a thought come into her head. “Why don't your sisters help out at the farm? With the pressure you're under, you'd think there'd be more than just you and me in the fields.” Jazz sighed. “Ya'd think, but... they ain't really Apples. Ma tried to teach 'em, but Concord an' Cassidy are really more Grapes, like Pa. An', like Pa, they're always too busy to help out in the Acres. Pa's gotten old, left the grape farm to the girls, an' they wouldn't dare cross onto Apple soil.” A sour look crossed his face as he started to mumble to himself. “Dunno why, since we're family 'n all an' we don't harvest at the same time. Won't let me help 'em, don't even know the travelin' song... hardly Apples at all.” He paused for a moment, closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath before smiling as though none of that had just happened. “Anyway, I don' need their help. I got you, an' yer worth ten other ponies.” Flora tilted her head, not entirely sure what to make of that statement, but sure it was a compliment. “Because I'm a hard worker?” “Because you're an amazin' mare.” Jazz looked her in the eyes when he said that, a little of the playfulness replaced with sincerity. The tone of his voice caught her off guard, making her wonder where it had come from. “Thank you... I guess. But I don't really think that's true.” “But y' are, Flora.” Jazz hesitated for a moment after he said that, a little tension being added to the room as he looked for the right words. “I dunno if it only happened recently or if I never noticed it before, but I said it out in the fields. Ya really are somethin' special, Flora. After everythin' that's happenin' here, ya don't let it get to ya. You just keep on workin', keep on movin' forward 'n helpin' out 'n makin' ponies feel better. Maybe not always laugh or smile, but ya keep tryin'... Ya keep the hope alive, even when everypony else woulda let it get them down or woulda quit.” He grabbed her hoof then, looking into her eyes, the blush on his cheeks barely visible through his red fur. “Yer a real special pony, Flora, an' I was hopin'... maybe you'd be willin' to be my special somepony?” In that moment, Flora noticed a lot of things she should have picked up on earlier. How much preparation had gone into all of this, or the fact that, after a hard day of work, Jazz had bothered to clean himself up. There wasn't a speck of dirt or grime from his neatly combed mane to the his treble clef shaped apple cutie mark. But the look of sincerity he was holding at her... “You're joking, right?” Flora looked at the hoof holding hers, listening to the words again in her head. “You're pulling my leg. We've known each other for years, Jazz, but this is a first.” When she looked at his face, though, the sincerity was there... and a little pain, too. “I ain't jokin', Flora. Sure, if ya look at it one way, we're practic'ly family, best friends forever growin' up, an' that could be weird. But, if I was gonna ask somepony out, it should be somepony I care for, right? Somepony I trust an' know well, an' who I think is an amazin' mare...” His gaze fell, his hoof pulling away from hers. “But if ya think it's a joke...” Her hoof grabbed his as it pulled away, the words tumbling out of her mouth. “N-no, it's not that, I just didn't think you'd actually...” He looked at her again, that same hurt sincerity strongly held in his eyes, and for a moment, time froze. Her next words were going to have to be chosen very carefully, and they couldn't be false. What was it that had made her doubt his words? The playful jabs? The fact they knew each other so well? Why would a good chemistry be a bad thing? And the fact that he'd asked her when she was still a mess from work... she never thought she was the most beautiful mare, but then she'd never really looked at mares, particularly herself, to judge attractiveness. If she had to guess, Silver was probably more beautiful than her, and she had that air of confidence that just- Focus, Flora, he's waiting on you. Without her noticing, time had started up again, and Jazz was looking at her hopefully. She'd wasted her thinking time, and soon the silence would answer for her. Looking at his face... he was attractive enough. She'd never actually bothered to date anypony before, though she did have a crush on one or two, but there was nothing about Jazz that she didn't like. He wasn't even too big or muscled, his body just having a nice and healthy tone from his years of farm work. The big question, she guessed, was if it would seem like she was kissing her brother... Because he'd said it. They were practically family. The bandanna she wore around her neck at that moment was a symbol of that. All those years ago, at the reunion, when she was crying in the loft, he'd tied the massive thing around her neck. He'd told her it meant that she was an Apple, and that she belonged there. Ever since that moment Sweet Apple Acres had been her second home. In some ways, Big Mac and Jazz, and even their dog Windsor when he came out to play, were more family than even her own sister... Was she really going to risk losing that? Or would it only make it that much more true? The bandanna around her neck, the pony before her waiting for an answer, her room and her house, both stagnant, the warmth she felt on the farm... Thoughts flickered through her mind, but underneath them, one stood out clear. It was time for a change. “You know what? Yes, Jazz. I'll gladly be your special somepony.” The sight of Jazz's eyes lighting up warmed Flora on the inside, as did his body when he rushed forward and hugged her tightly. She hugged him back, smiling to herself, before she leaned away, looking him in the eyes once more. “But I want you to promise that, even if this doesn't work out, we're still the best of friends, okay?” Jazz shook his head, touching a hoof to the bandanna as he did. “Not just friends, Flora. Family. I was worried enough that I was ruinin' that by askin' ya, because I wouldn't risk that for the world.” Flora's smile deepened as she moved his hoof, pulling him back into the hug. “That's why I said yes.” They held it for a while, the rush of the agreement just made flowing through them, before, finally, Flora pulled away, tapping him playfully on the nose and setting them both giggling as she returned to her seat. “Even so, there's a pie slice I'm not going to let go to waste.” Jazz trotted back around the table to his own spot, positively beaming as he returned to the slice before him. After a moment, though, Flora smirked to herself, realizing what was wrong with this picture. She pushed her slice across the table, scooting herself around it until she was next to the puzzled Apple, before leaning against him and picking up her slice once more. “Much better.” She could practically feel the heat spreading from his face, and could definitely feel the warmth of his fur against her as she chewed the dessert he'd baked for the occasion. She wasn't going to say it didn't feel a little weird, but... it didn't feel wrong either. She stayed there in silence as they both finished their pieces, then the second slices after. There was a moment of awkwardness when Jazz's tail moved, settling over Flora's, but as she looked up at him and saw his nervousness, she just giggled, which grew into a laugh the two of them shared. After that they fell into a little more conversation. The ease of their previous talk was gone as each one was suddenly more conscious about their words, but both hoped this was the start of something worth the nervousness. Around them time passed, the fireflies in the lanterns fading as they lost some of their vigor in the confined space. Flora looked at them, still leaning against Jazz as a yawn escaped her. “It's getting late... I really should be going home now.” Jazz frowned, looking down at her burgundy mane. “Well, ya don't have ta go back, if ya don't want ta...” She looked up, matching his gaze with a smirk on her muzzle. “I don't know what kind of mare you think I am, Jazz, but one nice dinner isn't going to get me in bed with you.” He shook his head quickly, eyes going wide at the implication. “That wasn't it at all! I know this might sound a bit silly, but I got it in my head while settin' up that you might like ta have a sleep over in the clubhouse, like we used ta do. It's a long walk back ta Ponyville, an' with how hard ya were workin' the last few days, I'm surprised ya made it back each night.” Flora enjoyed seeing him squirm for a second, but her smile faded a little at his words. “Well, to be honest, I almost didn't make it last night. If the bush hadn't made so much noise when I tumbled into it, I might've spent last night in the park.” Jazz's eyes stayed wide, but they went from fear to surprise. “Well that settles it!” He moved quickly, causing her to bobble a little when she lost the support of his body, which made her realize how tired she really was. He quickly went up into the loft, coming down moments later with a blanket and a couple pillows. “I ain't lettin' you walk home if ya ain't gonna make it there. Yer just gonna have ta stay here tonight.” Flora smiled warmly at the act, though it grew into a little smirk moments later. “Well, you could always walk your special somepony home...” Jazz stopped in his tracks, which was harder than it seemed as he too wobbled under the slight weight of a few pillows. She could see in his eyes that he was considering it, but she could see in his body that he was just as tired as she was. “That's what I thought. You're in no shape to be going anywhere either. That settles that.” Jazz looked puzzled. “What settles what?” Flora got up, tapping him on the nose again. “You're sleeping in here too.” Before he could complain, she got the pillows thrown into a good position, moving some of the old cushions around until they looked like something approximating a two pony bed with the one blanket over it. By the time she was done, Jazz was looking at her in disbelief, shaking his head. “Flora, I'm gonna have ta get ta work early tomorrow, an' the house ain't too far away. I don't want ta wake ya up in the mornin', 'n I can make it in the dark.” Flora pouted at him playfully. “Oh, c'mon Jazz! You said this was a sleepover Do you know how long it's been since I've had one of those? The last one was in here forever ago!” She smiled after that. “I'll be fun! And we're both so tired, I really don't think there will be enough time for it to be awkward.” She could see his brain working it over, the denial right at the tip of his tongue, but he reconsidered, thinking it over once more. After that, it was only a moment before he gave in. “Alright. Let's get the lanterns, then it'll be time ta sleep.” Both of them went slowly around the room, the oncoming sleep reaching them as they freed the fireflies from their lanterns, except for the one on the table. That one they left on the floor near the bed, its door open, but the bugs not blown out. The light would fade naturally as they spread out and left on their own. That done, both ponies got into the makeshift bed, heads at opposite ends like they'd always done as foals, though the years had made them long enough to get their hooves in each others' face. Despite that, they said a quick goodnight and settled in, trying to go to sleep. A few minutes in, though, Flora realized a problem. The clubhouse felt a lot draftier than it used to be, and even under the blanket, it was thin enough that she was starting to shiver from the cold. She tried to block it out and just get to sleep, but she couldn't stop herself from focusing on it, worrying that her hooves would shake their way into bumping Jazz and be so cold they'd he'd wake right up. She was so busy trying not to let that happen that she didn't notice the far side of the blanket moving, nor did she notice the hoofsteps until they stopped behind her, replaced with a gentle cough. Her eyes shot open, and in the dim light of the few fireflies left, she saw Jazz looking sheepish, a small blush on his face and his pillow over his back. “Would ya mind if I come on this side with ya? It's awful cold in here...” Flora shook her head, Jazz's pillow landing next to hers moments later. He quickly got under the blanket, laying down next to her, and then they both lay there awkwardly. After a moment, Flora turned away from him, slightly disappointed that his presence hadn't actually warmed the bed that much. Maybe if she got a little closer... Before she could move, she felt his arm wrap over her shoulder, the other one sliding under her neck. There was just a moment of fear, not knowing what was happening, before he pulled himself closer, hugging her from behind. Immediately she was so much warmer, and once she relaxed... she was even a lot more comfortable. She smiled, placing her hooves on his and hugging him back. His voice sounded just behind her ear, quiet, but intimately close. “G'night, Flora.” She turned her head, looking sidelong into his hazel eyes, and there was barely a moment's thought before she twisted further and placed a small kiss on his cheek, smiling as she did. “Good night, Jazz.” Whether it was in thanks for the heat, to get the first one out of the way, or some other reason, she couldn't tell, but as she settled into his warm embrace, she knew one thing was for certain. It definitely wasn't like kissing her brother. She soon drifted off to sleep, her smile glued to her face as her dream replayed memories of the day she'd just had. Sure, tomorrow would be another day, with some new challenge to overcome or chore to do, but right now, she was happy to have shared a lovely evening with, and her smile deepened at the thought, her special somepony.