"Come 'n' get it!" Applejack called, flipping the last of the flapjacks from the griddle all the way across the room to the stack on the kitchen table.
"Aw, yeah!" With a rustle and a whoosh, Dash flashed through the doorway, her eyes and grin wide. "Now that's what I'm talking about!"
Applejack couldn't help grinning back. Hanging her apron on its peg, she wondered why she'd ever been worried about the homestead getting too quiet. The way Dash kept hanging around, there wasn't much chance of—
A question hit Applejack, and she turned back to watch Dash shoveling flapjacks, her cheeks bulging and powdered sugar sprinkling her lips.
When exactly had Dash moved into the house?
Or had she moved in? Even with her posters and goggles and flight suits scattered over tables and counters and stuffed into closets, that gaudy ol' cloud mansion of hers was still floating around the outskirts of Ponyville; Applejack couldn't imagine a place like that'd hold together all too well without a pegasus keeping it in check. And with Dash always out doing some Wonderbolt thing or other and with her weather work, it wasn't like she slept here every night.
Did she?
And the question that hit Applejack then smacked her so hard, it set the breath to hitching sideways in her chest.
When exactly had Dash moved into her bed?
Yes, Applejack remembered every step along the way: grinning and elbowing each other out in the woods or kicking around Ponyville, compadres from Dash's first week stationed here; standing with shoulders pressed together in pride when Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle moved into the apartment above their cutie mark assistance clinic downtown; nuzzling more'n a little drunkenly at Mac and Cheerilee's engagement party; Dash staying over the whole week after Mac had loaded his things up and carted 'em to Cheerilee's place; the two of them clinging together those long, dark hours after Granny Smith's funeral.
And it wasn't that Applejack was complaining. She found she liked having somepony to hold in the night, a neck to press her face into and a mane to stroke, and those times she wanted something a little randier—or those times Dash tickled or teased her into wanting it—Dash always proved ready, willing, and more than able. She missed her, sure, whenever Dash wasn't here, but mostly it meant that she got all the sleep she needed and all her work done, something she had to admit didn't always happen when Dash was around.
Of course, there was plenty of work to do even with Mac and Apple Bloom still coming out to the Acres nearly every day to help. Which didn't leave a lotta time to get moody about anything, and that was just the way Applejack liked it.
Just the way she liked it. Watching Dash swig down her mug of cocoa, Applejack rolled those words around in her head. Whatever it was between her and Dash had grown and blossomed just the way she liked it, too, as slow and gentle as an apple tree but as strong and steady as every solstice following every equinox. No down-on-one-knee-with-a-hoof-holding-out-a-ring kinda moment like Rarity went on and on about; no fervent declarations under the moonlight like Twilight said she was looking forward to; no proposals written in clouds like Pinkie swore she was gonna do when she met her special somepony; no wavery eyes with rose petals blowing in the background like Fluttershy sometimes whispered and blushed about.
Nope, her and Dash were the same as they'd always been, laughing and fighting and helping each other. But looking across the kitchen, Applejack suddenly and for maybe the first time actually saw her marefriend—or her husband or her wife or whatever other word might be out there somewhere: the one pony in the whole wide, wide world of Equestria, at any rate, that she simply couldn't imagine living without.
Dash froze in mid-chew, her eyes snapping up from her plate and her gaze crashing into Applejack's. "What?" she asked, her voice thick with half-eaten pancakes.
Applejack shook her head and moved to her own place at the table. "Nothing. And pass the syrup. If'n there's any left, I mean..."
*****
Swallowing her mouthful, Dash started to put on her best shocked expression, ready to deny that she would ever take all the syrup while trying frantically to remember if she'd left any in the jar.
But the look on Applejack's face stopped her, a tenderness Dash didn't see all that often in those half-closed eyes and in that half-stretched smile. Half a dozen questions flashed through her mind like heat lightning, but she shoved them all away and went with: "AJ? You OK?"
"I reckon." Applejack started leaning toward her, and Dash licked her lips, ready as always for some morning smooches. But—
"Long as I get me some syrup," Applejack said, her hooves moving to grab the jar instead. Sitting back and flipping open the lid, she drizzled a narrow stream of the stuff over the top of her pancake stack. "How 'bout you? What's your schedule look like the resta the day?"
Dash gave her maybe a quarter of a glare, ruffled her feathers, and sat back as well. "Final rehearsal's this afternoon, then tonight?" And knowing it was stupid, that it never worked and just made her sound needy and clinging and the very opposite of cool, Dash went on anyway: "You really oughtta come, AJ. Cloudsdale's not that far away right now, Twilight's got that spell so you can walk around up there, and the show's gonna be pretty darn spectacular." She unveiled her most rakish grin and polished a hoof tip against her chest. "If I do say so myself."
Even sucking down a pancake, Applejack still managed to give that low chuckle of hers, Dash's insides fluttering the way they always did at the sound. But then—
Then Applejack didn't give her usual frown and shake of her head. "Y'know? Reckon I will." Applejack tapped a hoof against the table, and Dash couldn't stop her eyes from widening. "I'll have the chores done afore sundown, and Twi's always bragging 'bout how good she's gotten with her long-range transport magic. She can do up my hooves, pop me straight over to the arena, and there I'll be in plenty of time to see what all the fuss is about." She nodded and smiled. "Whaddaya say?"
As much as she tried to keep them contained, Dash's wings flared on their own and sprang her into a hover. "I'd say it's your lucky day," she managed to get out without squealing. "'Cause I think I've got an extra ticket or two stuffed in my saddlebag somewhere. Lemme go check."
She darted into the hallway before the joy could show on her face, and she couldn't keep from doing a couple barrel rolls as she shot up the stairwell and into her and Applejack's room. Ever since she'd joined the Bolts' main roster, she'd always grabbed a VIP ticket for each show just in case, and the thought that Applejack would actually be watching tonight sent a tingle through Dash like the last instants before cracking off a Sonic Rain—
A question hit her, though, digging through her bags, and Dash stopped.
When exactly had it become so important that Applejack see her fly?
Not that it had ever been unimportant. Applejack had been just about her best friend ever since she'd first been assigned to the Ponyville weather team, but Dash had learned early on that she wasn't the easiest pony to impress. Which made the times Dash had impressed her shine like stars in Dash's memory.
But, well, Rarity was pretty hard to impress, too. So why hadn't Dash ever considered giving her a ticket? Was there something about Applejack that—?
And the question that hit her then nearly threw her like a sudden downdraft, snapped her head up, and sent her staring around the room like she'd never seen it before and had no idea where that fine blue down clinging to the sheets and blankets of Applejack's bed had come from.
When exactly had Applejack become her marefriend?
Because she was her marefriend, no doubt about it: Dash'd pop any pony in the jaw who tried to say otherwise. Of course, she'd probably pop any pony in the jaw who called her and Applejack a couple, too, now that she thought about it, but that was beside the point. What the two of them had was bigger than any stupid words.
That got her grinning, and dumping everything out of her saddlebags, she nosed through the pile, plucked the ticket with her teeth, and zoomed back downstairs. "Here you go," she said, giving a puff that wafted the ticket across the table to settle beside Applejack's plate. "Best seat in the house. You just wait there afterwards, and I'll come get you."
Applejack took off her hat. "Thank ya kindly." She tucked the ticket up into the crown of it, flipped it back into place, and gave another of those half-lidded looks. "But won't you be busy partying with your fans and all?"
"Ha!" Dash pushed another pile of pancakes onto her plate. "You and me are gonna show Cloudsdale how a party is done." She glanced over at the syrup jar. "I, uhh, don't suppose there's any..."
With a smirk, Applejack flipped the lid open to reveal a full container of sweet brown liquid. "Got another batch outta the icebox while you was upstairs."
"Yes!" Leaping up, Dash grabbed the syrup and fixed her gaze on Applejack's. "Y'know what? This has already been the best day ever."
"Yeah." Applejack's smile dazzled her. "Reckon it has."