Because Ponies Are the Size of Cats and They Love to Cuddle

by shortskirtsandexplosions

Aprons

"Oh sugarcube, I'm so sorry..."

"You're sorry?!" I smirk despite the crusty bits of dough fragments clinging to my face and neck. I kneel before the chair where she's squatting and proceed to wipe her muzzle, face, and mane clean with a wet dishtowel. "What are you sorry for? You're not the one who turned apple pies into weapons of mass destruction!"

"But... I-I make them all the time!" she stammers, squinting and fussing as I wipe her orange chin and cheeks clean. "Guhhhh... y'know, I could just go home and take a dip in a bath or somethin'..."

"Nonsense," I say, nevertheless mothering her with the remaining clean corners of the towel. I tilt her head from side to side, squinting at my handiwork. "You haven't got much on you." I smirk. "Good thing for that stupid apron, huh?"

"Apron shmapron." She taps my crumb-covered chest. "You took the blow for me! Just like some sacrificial soldier or somethin'!"

"Yes, well..." I turn and grimace at the sight of the gunk-covered kitchen. The thermal expander still smolders from the center of the blast zone. "When in a battlefield..." I shrug and return to scrubbing her face clean. "I'd quote Bruno Mars, but that'd be in bad taste."

"Nnnngh..." She fusses again, squirming on the chair. "Who?"

"Oh... some twenty-first century pop musician who was the first human to fall prey to nanites when the strong A.I. of his sports car became self-aware in 2025."

"Oh. That stinks." Applejack fidgets in the chair. "Well, here's hopin' he got plenty of good songs out before he kicked the ol' bucket"

"Tell that to the entire population of Hawaii who got transmogrified overnight into silicon dust." I lean back with a smile. "Ah... there we go. Good as fuzzy-new."

"Please, sugarcube..." Applejack rolls her eyes. "Why such a big deal over fuzziness?"

"Heehee... because you are and you're adorable."

"Heh. If you say so." She turns to glance into the kitchen once more. "Unnngh..." Her ears folded atop her head. "I'm so awfully sorry for yer kitchen. Here, lemme help you clean it up—"

"Don't bother, Applejack." I hold her in place with two gentle hands. "Seriously. I'll deal with it."

"But... b-but it was my idea to—!"

"And stop taking the blame for it!" I stand up and carry the towels into the sink across the exploded room. "I'm the one who didn't consider every tiny detail in earnest!" I wash and scrub my hands, smiling bitterly. "It's just a shame I didn't get to try your apple pie..."

"Yeah..." Applejack hangs her head. "I was lookin' forward to it too."

"Maybe next time."

"Next time?" Applejack winces. "You mean you'd be willin' to tr-try this all again?"

"Why not?" I turn around, arms folded. "You said it yourself! It's to die for!"

"Heh... I may have exaggerrated a might bit."

"Pffft. Please. Element of Honesty?"

"I hear ya... I hear ya..." She smirks. "Maybe I can haul over some firewood next time. We could do it the ol' fashion way! Right there on yer balcony!"

"Sure..." I shrug. "It beats my having to import wood from the opposite side of the solar system."

"What, is it a long spankin' distance?"

"Nah. It's just super perilous." I smirk. "Centuries ago, pioneers terraformed Pluto into a gigantic coniferous forest. Little did they know what kind of squirrels would grow in gravity that low." I wince, running a hand through my hair. "I can st-still remember the digiphotos of claw marks they showed us in health class..."

"Maybe it's best if I didn't know, reckon?"

I nod. "Reckon." I walk across the messy room. "So... what now?"

"I've made an awful mess of thangs." She sighs. "Perhaps I should just mosey on home."

"What for?" I smile. "The article still has plenty of juice left."

"Well..."

"Do you want to go home now?"

She bites her lip, ears folded. "No..."

"Then let's just hang out for a while longer!" I smile, picking her up in two gentle hands. "How about a movie?"

"You mean..." She looks at me with moist eyes. "You ain't mad or depressed or nothin'?"

I giggle. "Why should I be? You make my whole day, Applejack."

"Yeah... r-reckon I do, don't I?"

I smile, cradling her as I carry her into the room.

"Uhm... sugarcube?"

"Hmmmm?"

"I... uhm..." She gulps. "I don't suppose you have any more of that fancy 'Mixed Chex,' do ya?" Nervously twitching ears. "If it ain't no thang...?"

I wink. "I'll grab another bag or two."

Her eyes light up. With a squee, she leans in and nuzzles my chest.

Comments

[JEP1996]

Damn you must hate Bruno Mars...........

[Tatsurou]

She likes Mixed Chex, huh?

I guess it's the Reese's Pieces to Ponies.

[Aatxe360]

Those squirrels are on to you, Applejack.

[Dirty Bit]

"Oh... some twenty-first century pop musician who was the first human to fall prey to nanites when the strong A.I. of his sports car became self-aware in 2025."

Pffffft! Hehehe, poor Bruno

The end of this chapter was adorable

[TheTownCrier]

So I guess M&M's are still made.

[paintom_phan]

So, Bruno Mars died 200+ years ago, and referencing him is still too soon. I believe it.

[Dustchu]

Wow... Poor Bruno 8'D hehehe.
I'D CATCH A GRENADE FOR YOU!
...
//shot//

nice job.

[Evil Paladin]

Next chapter:
Apple Jack furiously scratches her left foreleg.
"Ya gotta let me have more of that mix chex! Ya gotta!"
"I dunno.... You've been acting weird ever since I introduced you to Chex mix."
Apple Jack begins to slap at the inside of her elbow.
"I need ma chex fix ya varmint!! GIVE ME SOME CHEX FUCKER!!!" she angrily yells.