Taken for Granite

by Cloudy Skies

Back to Where it All Began

Sunday. While it was barely past noon on what was usually the most quiet of days, Pinkie had sent a letter saying she would come back with the two o’clock train on exactly Sunday. Applejack would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited, so she didn’t. If Apple Bloom’s complaints were any indication, she didn’t have to speak to say that anyway. She’d almost worn grooves in the floorboards with her pacing this morning.

Applejack glanced out the rime-frosted window for the tenth or the ten thousandth time. Today, winter was back to being the enemy. Again there was nothing to do to take her mind off—no, she corrected herself. Applejack grinned and stared out into the snow-laden orchards as if there was a chance of spotting the tip of a pink tail behind a tree. You never knew with Pinkie.

No, she didn’t want anything to take her mind off this wait. She didn’t want to ignore or pretend, she just wanted something to do to pass the time. She’d cleared the farmyard of snow twice today already, and for once, her friends were no help in passing time.

Twilight and Rainbow had been kind enough to tell Fluttershy and Rarity of what had happened before Applejack left for Rockopolis, but it’d been the work of a full day to bring them all up to speed. A pleasant day’s work, at that. If she could tear her mind off her afternoon plans, Applejack might have been a tiny bit suspicious of how they all reported they were busy today, but it was easier to be content with everything working out instead.

Finally the mantelpiece clock struck one. Applejack dropped her forehooves from the windowsill, halfway to the kitchen before the venerable clock’s gong had faded. She’d told herself that if she could hold out ‘till one, she’d be fine. The food wouldn’t get cold that quick, and everything would come together nicely.

Before she was halfway to the oven, the timer let out its little ping, complimenting Applejack on her timing. An oven mitt was grabbed, the oven was opened, and the pie slipped on top of the pre-prepared basket. Applejack covered the whole thing with a cloth and bumped the table with her flank, basket onto her back and ready to go.

“Heading out for a bit,” Applejack said as she passed back through the living room. Granny Smith nodded, but she said nothing. Applejack paused with the door half ajar. She hadn’t said much on the matter to her family yet, but there was precious little fear left in her now.

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout what you said. Adding to the family and what-not,” Applejack said. She scratched her snout, couldn’t keep a grin from her face. “Gonna head out on a date. Now, I don’t rightly know where this all will go, but I thought it’d be fair to warn you and all. Might be Big Mac or Apple Bloom have to take care of that all. This one ain’t much like us Apples.”

Granny Smith continued rocking her chair, her old bones creaking in tandem with the worn piece of furniture. “Weren’t my point at all, young’un. This wasn’t an apple orchard when we settled, either. Doing the same thing over and over ain’t the Apple family way. S’why we came over here. S’why we planted corn last year where we had beets th’year before. What I wanna know is if’n you’re done bein’ all touched in the head. If you got it sorted out.” She paused, squinting. “If you’re happy.”

Applejack smiled back at her gran. She didn’t have to think that one through much, though her cheeks did heat up. “Went a bit stir crazy for a bit, but yeah. I’m happy as can be. For a while I couldn’t help but think that I couldn’t stand to lose y’all, I guess.”

“And I don’t see what’n tarnation you could possibly manage to do to lose any of us. Family’s goin’ nowheres. Say, is your noisy friend comin’ to visit? The pink one?”

Applejack laughed. “Yep! Well, actually, I’m gonna go see her, but I’m sure she’ll be around a bit from now on. In fact, I’m counting on that.”

“Long as you keep her out of the apple cellar, or it’ll be lean times for us,” said Granny Smith with a wry smile on her face. “Now git, you’re bringin’ the winter inside.”

And out Applejack went. The snow whirled around her, the snowdrifts around the farmyard rebelling against her earlier efforts to keep the paths clear between farmhouse, barns and chicken coops. The day was supposed to be sunny and clear, just above freezing, but it hadn’t worked out to plan. Something about the next town over mucking the weather up and Dash not being able to find enough pegasi to stop it from rolling over Ponyville.

Applejack didn’t mind. Though the cloud-layer was relatively light and betrayed the time of day, all she could think while she made her way to the barn was that the wind reminded her of a very particular night. Perhaps most ponies wouldn’t think a chilly, snow-blasted barn much of a picnic spot, but Applejack couldn’t quite shake the thought that this was where it had all started.

Only, she didn’t know if Pinkie saw it thus. Applejack halted outside the barn, scratching the side of her head. She had to admit to herself she had no idea what went into these things. She knew what Rarity would say. Surely it was a travesty to have their first date—even the word felt odd—be anything less than a five-star dinner. On the other hoof, Twilight would probably feel more at home with some scientific outing or stargazing, and on the third and fourth hooves, Fluttershy or Rainbow Dash would probably prefer something different entirely.

If she hadn’t stopped, and if she hadn’t been thinking about hooves so much, she might’ve missed the hoofprints. Applejack leaned closer to the ground, discarding her line of thinking. It didn’t matter anyway. If Pinkie appreciate the picnic, she could take her to some amusement park, take her skydiving or whatever, next time. She was done with nonsense and insecurities more at home in a filly’s brain. Presently, she was more curious about the faint depressions, almost completely snowed in hoofprints, leading towards the barn—and hadn’t she closed the barn door yesterday? There was a small but noticeable gap through which Applejack could hear faint humming when the wind drew breath. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear it sounded like—

“Pinkie Pie!” Applejack said, sticking her head inside the barn. The pink mare herself froze on the spot, leaning on one of the barn’s support beams with a ribbon in her mouth.

Applejack didn’t quite know which question to begin with. She quickly pulled the door shut in her wake, fully inside a barn that was decidedly not as empty as it used to be. Coloured paper lanterns dangled from the rafters, a gramophone stood mute by the door, and one particular area held a games table more at home in Los Pegasus than Ponyville. Even that wasn’t half of it, but all the other embellishments paled compared to the table set for two smack dab in the middle of her barn. A low seatless table, an unlit candle, and tableware Applejack hadn’t seen since Sugarcube Corner hosted Princess Celestia for brunch.

“What in tarnation are you up to?” Applejack asked, and she couldn’t keep from laughing even as she asked. Pinkie Pie gave up the ribbon, tossing it into a half-full bag of colourful adornments resting by the table.

“Do you mean what I’m doing right now, or why I took the ten o’clock train instead and totally lied a bunch to you?” Pinkie asked, trotting over to her. She didn’t stop until she was snout to snout with Applejack, nuzzling her. “Because they kinda have the same answer. What are you doing here? You’re supposed to meet me at the platform in an hour, and then I’m gonna say, hey, do you want to maybe go to your place? Because I think I saw a giraffe hiding in your barn!”

“Really,” Applejack said. She pulled back a tad to reclaim a bit of personal space, but Pinkie took another step forward, and Applejack left it at that. There were worse fates, and her particular fate smelled of cotton candy.

“Nuh, silly. That was a lie, too! I was gonna pretend I saw a giraffe, or maybe get Fluttershy to wear a giraffe costume to get you inside to where I’d planned the—uh,” Pinkie stuck her tongue out and looked around the room as though she wasn’t really sure what she was looking at. That made two of them.

“Yeah, I don’t actually know what I was gonna call it, because it’s kind of a welcome home party for myself, and an ‘I’m glad to be home with you’ party for you, but mostly, it’s a date party! Or just a date, I guess.” She folded her ears and clopped her hooves together. “Um, I don’t really know what dates are supposed to look like, but I know what parties look like, so I kind of cheated a little when I couldn’t decide. Sorry.”

“So that’s why there’s a pool?” Applejack asked with a pointed glance. While she admired the ingenuity, the springboard leading off one of the support beams was attached with a mix of rope and taffy. That, and the little plastic pool was about a hoof’s breadth deep at most.

“Yeah. The water’s already cold,” Pinkie said with a mournful sigh. “And you are way early! I need to make one more trip to go get all the food.”

“I got us covered there, actually.” Applejack slipped the basket onto a free corner of the table and pulled the covering cloth away. “Unless downhome Apple family fare ain’t good enough for a first date. Date party. Casino thinger.”

If Pinkie’s outright drooling was any indication, it wasn’t. Pinkie scooted around to sit down at the table, shaking her head vigorously. “Nuh-uh! I’ve been dreaming about apple pie for days now! I bet Rarity and Rainbow Dash will understand.”

“Uh, Rarity and R.D.? What’ve they got to do with this all?” Applejack asked. Since Pinkie was busy flapping her gums, Applejack fished out all the contents of the basket. Apple pie, spiced cider, turnovers for dessert and a thermos of tea, all went onto the table along with another thermos with cocoa in case they got chilly.

“Oh yeah, I sent them a letter, too, one where I didn’t sneakily lie. One that said, ‘hey guys, I’m coming home at ten, can you help me put together a super-fantastic date thingy for Applejack?’”

“Guess I owe them thanks. Explains why R.D. wouldn’t keep me entertained while I waited. She usually never says no to hanging out.” Applejack grinned. “Well. I’m sure they’ll survive. Might be they’ll come looking for us, though.”

“Nope. I told Twilight all my backup plans, so we’re good!”

“Uh, beg pardon?”

Pinkie Pie shrugged. “I told her that if anything happened to me, like if I didn’t come back because I changed the plan a little, or if I was kidnapped by a giant pterodactyl—that’s a dinosaur—they should live good, healthy long lives, and also eat all the food we made and maybe meet some cute mares or stallions of their own. I’m sure this counts!”

Applejack chuckled softly, shook her head and filled Pinkie’s cup to the rim with hot cider, then her own. The rest of the world didn’t matter all that much right now anyway. Everything from big and distant Ponyville to the single, silent and forgotten gramophone disappeared. It all came down to a simple table and the pony sat opposite of her. Applejack could’ve stayed like this forever, and Pinkie didn’t protest either. Things felt right for the first time in a long while.

“I ain’t looking to kidnap you, but I’m hoping maybe you’ll stay and have a bite with me.” Applejack grinned, suddenly remembering something she’d meant to ask about for a while now. “Besides, I ain’t a dinosaur or what-have you. To hear you tell it, I’m a chunk of rock.”

“It’s not just any chunk of rock, it’s granite,” Pinkie immediately replied. Not a second’s confusion. There was no way for her to know Applejack had meant the rock on her nightstand, yet she did. Pinkie knew, she shifted where she sat, and she blushed a deeper red under her coat.

“There are hundreds of different types of gems, but ponies always forget how great rocks are, too. Granite’s really strong, and sometimes it can be really shiny too, both on the outside and inside because it’s got lots of quartz and other neat stuff in it. Most ponies never really realise. They just see a rock and think that’s that. That’s really stupid of them.”

She sounded almost indignant, Applejack thought, and the realisation sent a surge of warmth through her. It was the sort of moment where everything she’d been told suggested they should look down at their hooves, shy away from each others’ eyes and reflect.

“Mighty kind of you to say, at least,” Applejack said instead. It didn’t sound like such a bad sort of rock.

“Aw, you’re welcome!” Pinkie said, and that was that. She helped herself to a slice of pie, staring at it once she had it on her plate. “So. Are we allowed to just eat like normal? Are we supposed to hug first or something? Rarity didn’t say.”

“Don’t reckon we need no manual for this. Don’t really need ‘dates,’ if you ask me. Now, if you’d like to come with me to see how the orchard’s fences hold up with all this snow tomorrow, that’d be swell.” She rested her muzzle on a hoof, a foreleg on the table. “There’d be lunch by the fireplace afterwards.”

“Ooh, and I was thinking of helping the Cakes out with a catering job on Wednesday, and I figure maybe we could plan to have an unplanned food fight and then have to start all over again and barely make it just in time without getting the Cakes angry, but with a lot of stress and cake batter everywhere and then we’d need to take a bath! Wanna help?”

“Can’t think of nothin’ I’d rather do.” Applejack and Pinkie Pie exchanged smiles, and for a little while, that was all there was. Silence, smiles, and the promise of tomorrow, of next week—and then? After the next week, what then?

“What’re you thinking about?” Pinkie said. “I feel like I ask that a lot. Do I ask that too often? Oh, wait, if I only get one answer, I want the answer to the first one—the thinking question.”

“Winter’s not gonna last forever,” Applejack said. She glanced up, past the rafters to the barn’s ceiling as though she could see the clouds above. “We got a few months and a bit, and then it’s back to work.”

Pinkie’s smile wavered. She bit her lower lip, and Applejack knew that Pinkie was looking for doubt in her eyes. A trace of fear crossed Pinkie’s features, and given how she’d been acting lately, Applejack didn’t blame her.

“Is—is that a bad thing? I like spring. Spring’s nice. What happens in spring? Because I don’t usually plan things a lot, but—”

Applejack reached across the table and grabbed a hold of one of Pinkie’s hooves. She was warm to the touch. Pinkie always was, like she was a furnace of the very same heat Applejack felt whenever Pinkie looked at her. The same pleasant warmth that filled Applejack when she thought of next week. And the next. And the one thereafter.

“I don’t plan much either, but I sure know how to run an apple farm. There’s gonna be lots to do, from plantin’ and sowing and right up until applebuck season. Was hoping maybe you’d be here for that.”

Pinkie gave a small nod and an even smaller smile that somehow shone brighter than her biggest grins. “I think I’d like that,” she said. “It’s very nice of you to ask!”

“After that, though? I don’t rightly know,” Applejack admitted. She nuzzled Pinkie’s foreleg and pulled her a little closer, and Pinkie was happy to lean over the table with a giggle. Now that they were close, she could feel the heat radiating from Pinkie’s cheeks sure as her own.

The half-eaten apple pie squished under Pinkie’s chest and tummy, and the only reason the table didn’t tip over was because Applejack steadied it. It was about as much as she could do. A cup fell over under Pinkie’s advance, and then their muzzles met. Applejack closed her eyes and melted into the kiss, swimming in the scent, the warmth and the taste of Pinkie Pie. When finally Pinkie Pie broke off, she was grinning ear to ear, and the silliness was infectious. Applejack let out a chuckle followed by a sigh of contentment, reaching around Pinkie’s neck to hug her tight and condemn them both to a shower later.

“And besides, y’know,” Applejack said, lowering her voice a tad. “Might be that not knowing ain’t such a terrible thing. What I do know for sure is I ain’t going nowhere unless you tell me to. I ain’t letting go.”

“Two things!” Pinkie said, nosing the top of Applejack’s head. “You know two things! You also know you’re not going to tell me not to talk to you or tell you things, or stop listening, not unless I’m being super extra silly!”

“Two things, then,” Applejack chuckled.

“Oh, no, wait. three!” Pinkie said.

“Sounds like we ought to make me a list or something,” Applejack murmured, content to hold Pinkie and rub her muzzle against the side of her neck.

“You know you should probably kiss me again, and longer this time,” Pinkie said, nodding at herself. “Should I write that down? Ooh, that’ll be hard, I don’t think I brought a quill, actually.”

Applejack grinned and nipped the coat of Pinkie’s neck. “Nah. That one, I think I can remember.”

Comments

[SleepIsforTheWeak]

...and then they had sex.

Yes?

That's the only logical conclusion my mind comes up with whenever I read scenes like this.... Just sayin'.

[Donnys Boy]

Yaaaaay!

I like that an explanation for AJ being granite was included--and the story's title is quite clever, by the way--and the date was pretty much perfect. Neither Pinkie nor Applejack are fussy ponies or keen on high society manners, so a simple picnic where they basically just hang out seems like the ideal date for them.

Also, I forgot to mention this in previous chapters, but I like that Pinkie considers Applejack "the clever one." Twilight's super smart, of course, and Pinkie surely thinks so, but I get the sense that Twilight doesn't explain things to Pinkie in such a way that Pinkie understands. Whereas Applejack, over the course of this story, has done that--has taken the time and the pains to talk to Pinkie in a mutually understandable language. I dig it.

“Long as you keep her out of the apple cellar, or it’ll be lean times for us,” said Granny Smith with a wry smile on her face.

Granny Smith is the best. I just wanted to have that on the record. She's the best.

[friedchicken96]

Awwwwwwww so sweet! This played out in such a wonderful way!

“It’s not just any chunk of rock, it’s granite,”There are hundreds of different types of gems, but ponies always forget how great rocks are, too. Granite’s really strong, and sometimes it can be really shiny too, both on the outside and inside because it’s got lots of quartz and other neat stuff in it. Most ponies never really realise. They just see a rock and think that’s that. That’s really stupid of them.”

I just loved how you had Pinkie Pie explain Applejack being granite. It brought back some of the meaning from the title and that part just really stuck out to me in this.
By the way you sir are a super fantastic writer whom I might just decide to follow after reading this. Now I shall read the afterward!

[TwilightPDX]

I LOVED this story, but I did notice a small typo in this chapter.

If she hadn’t stopped, and if she hadn’t been thinking about hooves so much, she might’ve missed the hoofprints. Applejack leaned closer to the ground, discarding her line of thinking. It didn’t matter anyway. If Pinkie appreciate the picnic, she could take her to some amusement park, take her skydiving or whatever, next time. She was done with nonsense and insecurities more at home in a filly’s brain. Presently, she was more curious about the faint depressions, almost completely snowed in hoofprints, leading towards the barn—and hadn’t she closed the barn door yesterday? There was a small but noticeable gap through which Applejack could hear faint humming when the wind drew breath. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear it sounded like—

I think you meant, appreciated.

Once again, fantastic story, fantastic ship

[God_of_Awesome]

Got an advert at the end of this chapter.

"Hungry For Apples"

And, for a moment, I thought it was a part of the story.

[LucarioFan2066]

giant pterodactyl—that’s a dinosaur

Nope. 'Dinosaur' relates to ancient land-dwelling reptiles; the sea-based and avian creatures have their own taxonomic classifications (mosasaur, ichthyosaurs, pterosaurs, plesiosaurs). Also, Dimetrodon is not a 'dinosaur', because it went extinct about 40 million years before dinosaurs came into existence.
Additionally, 'pterodactyl' is nothing more than the layman name for pterodactylus.