//------------------------------//
// Live and Let Cuddle- Or, Apples are Forever (Applejack) 
// Story: The Snuggle Conspiracy 
// by CategoricalGrant 
//------------------------------//

Finally free of annoying yet information-filled interjections by Ponyville’s inhabitants, you trot your way over to Sweet Apple Acres, taking care to walk by Carousel Boutique on the opposite side of the street.
Walking on the path into the farm, you notice that the chilly air does not carry the scent of apples. It makes sense, right? Uncut apples don’t smell like anything.
Pressing through the cold and the slowly encroaching dusk, you continue heading towards the barn. Eventually, you hear sounds of exertion and soon find Applejack working in an orchard to the left of the path. You hop the fence and approach her. “Applejack.”
Her appearance is ragged. She’s breathing heavily, moving with no little imprecision, and her coat seems to be disheveled. Evidently, she is so focused that she doesn’t hear you. Try again, maybe?
You move closer so that you’re only a few feet away. “Applejack.”
She seems to jump about 4 feet in the air, letting out a yelp and bucks you right where your left foreleg meets your torso. You are pushed off balance and stumble, barely managing not to fall.
And then, the pain hits. “AGHHHHHH!” you cry, holding the impacted area with your other hoof. “WHYYYY? AGHHHH!” You take a deep and sharp inhalation before letting out one last, “AGHHHH!”
Applejack seems distraught. “Oh, I-I’m so so sorry, Sugarcube! I…I didn’t know you were there! I’m so sorry!” Her voice begins to tremble.
“D-don’t worry about it Applejack. Really, I’m fine, I…ow… I shouldn’t have snuck up on you.” She still seems really bothered, which is odd. You don’t know Applejack particularly well, but from your limited interaction, it really seemed like she was the kind of pony to buck you in the face first and ask for questions later…And certainly didn’t seem like one to deliver apologies for anything short of felonious activity.
Stubborn. You liked that quality. You were pretty stubborn yourself.
Suddenly, her distraught look turns to one of curiosity. “What in the hay are you wearing there on your chest, sugarcube? Is that some sort of growth or something?”
You had totally forgotten about the presence of your dank chest plate, but were grateful that Applejack brought it up, for two reasons: first, it reminded you of the reason you came to speak with Applejack in the first place. Second, it was the final piece of evidence needed to prove to you that your cool inquisitor’s chest plate was doing more harm than good. “It’s, uh, it’s nothing,” you say, unhinging it and throwing it off to the side. “Listen, I came because I really need your help.”
“My Help?! Oh, no! I don’t have no time to help nobody!” You were unsure whether or not the triple negative conveyed the intended logical conclusion of her statement.  Regardless, Applejack continues, “the farm’s falling apart! Applebloom and Big Macintosh are off making deliveries and I have to get all these apples off the trees before the first frost tonight!”
“Woah, woah, Applejack, don’t you freak out on me,” you say with somewhat of an edge to your voice, having quickly grown tired of her erratic behavior.
“Don’t you dare give me that, Mister!” she roars defiantly. “With this here baker strike, nopony is buying apples! That means I need to get every apple off these trees, and I will buck you right in that smug mug of yours if you don’t git right off this here property! If I can’t sell all these apples to anypony that will buy them at cost…then…then…”
She bursts into tears, her entire body racking from the sobs. “Then we’re gonna lose the farm!” she wails. You embrace her, allowing her to cry into your coat.
“Well, that’s what I’m here to talk about.”
You explain everything; your new inquisitorial position, your mission to get to the bottom of the economic crisis, and especially the fact that you had escaped from Rarity’s clutches, which should have induced a hearty chuckle from Applejack, but didn’t. She really must be hurting, which gives you an idea.
“Applejack,” you say, looking into those forlorn green eyes of hers, “I need your help in fixing everything. You’re one of the best farmers in Equestria, and certainly the most famous. You can get the farmers all together, present a united front.”
“I can’t leave the farm,” she says with watery eyes. “Big Mac is traveling darn near 30 miles a day making deliveries, and even Applebloom has been working ten-hour days selling from the stand in different towns ‘round the Everfree. If I go, the farm won’t survive…” She looks around to the thousands of apples still left in the orchard. A biting wind howls from the west, signaling an incoming snowstorm. “It might not even if I stay.”
“Well, see, I’ve been thinking about that,” you say. “My position comes with some powers, and I’m willing to fund your farm through next year if you agree to help me.”
She immediately throws her hooves around you and lets out a laugh of pure joy. It’s a sound that is filled with pure honey and makes the heart leap with delight. You smile.
“You’ve been working hard. What’s say we celebrate by taking a load off and having some famous Sweet Apple Acres Cider?”
Ten minutes of Apple hauling later and you’re seated with Applejack on a pile of hay in the Apple family barn, a mug of cider in hoof. “Ahh,” you sigh. This was the life.
“You sure can drink, pardner!” Applejack exclaims with a big smile.
You laugh. “Runs in the family.” You polish off your third mug, while Applejack has long since finished her first and settled into a comfortable position. “I do have two questions to ask you though.”
“Shoot.” She says, her grin making her eyes crinkle in a genuine expression of bliss.
“Well, first off, how’d you manage to get in debt?”
“Ahh,” Applejack’s expression sours. “Ya’ll ‘ll have to ask my rockhead of an older brother about that one. Had to rebuild the barn three times last year, and he thinks it’s a good idea to invest in a second set of cider equipment and pear futures and put up the farm as collateral on the loan! He picks up one of those fancy investing books now and again and struts around for a few weeks like he’s some big Manehattaner.”
“Okay, fair enough. My other question though: if you were in trouble, why didn’t you go to Twilight Sparkle for help?”
“Well, Twilight could help us all out from time to time, but doesn’t. Takes the whole new ‘Princess’ thing very seriously. Says she doesn’t want to promote Nexo…Nespo….Nepi…”
“Nepotism?” You venture.
“Hay if I know,” Applejack says. “I spent my filly years studying Political Science, not Latin.”
“You didn’t study Agriculture at school in Ponyville?”
Applejack laughs, placing a hoof around you to support herself, “Ah, sugarcube, ya’ll don’t study farming! You live it!”
She doesn’t remove her hoof, and instead rolls over and leans into you, smiling serenely with her eyes closed. “Boy, I’m real tired. I’m glad ya’ll suggested taking a load off in here.” She nuzzles your neck.
“I bet. Way you look, you must have been working yourself to death.”
“Hey now, what’s that supposed to mean?” She looks up at you with a pouty face. You hope she doesn’t mind your teasing too much.
“Ah, nothin’.” You say, eliciting and affectionate yet powerful knock from Applejack’s hoof right on the spot where she kicked you earlier. “AGHHH!”
“Oh, uh…sorry sugarcube.”
A few minutes of snuggly silence pass. You rub a hoof along Applejack’s back, nothing all the inflamed muscles. You apply a little pressure to help massage them and ease the recovery.
Applejack sighs in contentment and looks up at you. “I got somethin’ for you.” She takes off her hat and puts it square on your head, adjusting it slightly to make sure it’s in the perfect position. “Now that there is a temporary honor, y’hear? You run off with that an’ not any alicorn in the whole world will be able to protect you from me.” 
You respond by petting her mane, and then giving her a big hug.

Outside the barn door, the first snowflakes of winter begin to fall against the black curtain of night.