Appledagio

by Rune Soldier Dan

Alone and Together in an Empty House

It was tiring to be angry, and twice as tiring when the reason was stupid. Applejack didn’t have that kind of time or energy, so she did what she did best. She moved on.

Rainbow, Adagio, and all of Tirek’s Revenge were gone from her mind by the time she finished the short drive home. Not the greatest day, yeah, but not the worst. Good news hung low in the form of gray clouds, carrying rain which had been lacking the last few weeks. The orchard would be happy, and as she left the truck Applejack felt a skip join her step when the warning drizzle tickled her arms.

She slammed open the door in a way sure to evoke Granny’s ire, and belted with a grin, “I’m home, and mighty happy to be here!”

Silence greeted her. And… darkness?

Applejack flipped on a light, belatedly remembering she didn’t lie when she said the family had plans. Apple Bloom had taken Winona to visit her gang, same as every Friday, and Granny and Macintosh were on another business trip.

Applejack blinked in the artificial light, then shrugged. Quiet evening, ahoy.

Her hand still on the switch, Applejack felt the first peal of thunder rattle the old house. The barely-audible drizzle became a downpour in seconds, and from the way the sky looked it’d go on all night.

Good. Applejack closed the door and busied herself – slinging away her backpack, making sure the windows were down, and trading her boots for a pair of cozy slippers. The immediates done, she sat down and cracked open her homework. Better to do something productive than sulk and be lonely.

Besides, there was some benefit to being alone. Applejack had grown up with home-cooked meals, and so found the salty ease of frozen dinners an unusual treat. A guilty bag of chicken tenders sat waiting in the freezer for days like this.

Never the most attentive student, Applejack smiled as she worked, mind drifting to the afternoon. A silly thing, to fret something as small as a video game. Next week she’d own up and tell the girls she wasn’t interested.

Another burst of thunder came, this one like a cannonade out the window. Memories of school brought her to Adagio’s offer, and her mouth moved to a satisfied smirk. She hadn’t gotten her hopes up, and it paid off. The weather had surely drowned any sincerity Adagio might have had. No, the frou-frou girl was at home, watching some dumb soap opera or whatever it was the trendy kids liked. If their conduct at school was any indication, she was probably arguing with another siren while backbiting the third, all while comparing lip gloss and mascara. Like how Rarity could’ve turned out if she wasn’t alright.

...Rarity had been the first to make nice with them. Brave as anything Applejack had ever seen, she walked right over to the sirens’ lunch table and began complimenting their makeup and fashion.

They played along, right up until the very end. Then Sonata flung water on her face, and as Rarity stumbled Adagio was waiting to trip her.

“A snake is a snake is a snake,” Mom used to say. But she never met Sunset, so maybe it had been worth the try.

Applejack’s mind wandered on from there, but it could only delay her for so long. The homework’s end brought not the relief it did for most kids, but a quiet sigh. An evening to herself, and so what? Can’t do farm work with the rain coming down. TV never had much appeal to her, and she only liked playing video games with others. She wasn’t a reader, and could never lose herself in the internet the way Twilight could.

A dark chuckle broke under her breath. There was a girly magazine squeezed between her mattress and bed-springs, but getting it out just for being bored took a kind of casualness Applejack hadn’t reached.

Taking her time putting away the text books brought no new ideas to kill the evening. She could shower, at least, and then cook those tendies. Maybe a plan would reach her in the meantime.

A blast of thunder dwarfing those before shook her heart in its chest. The rain sounded like hail outside, knocking endlessly against the window and rhythmically on the door.

Applejack paused, wondering at how bad the wind must be for rain to reach the door. Even then, with the awning and alcove in the way she didn’t see how.

Then three more knocks came, out of tune with the downpour, and the coin dropped.

“Coming!” Applejack called. Slippered feet skidded on the linoleum floor with her approach. Embarrassed by the delay, she flung open the door and was immediately shoved back by the newcomer.

“By Celestia’s great white ass, could you answer the door any slower?”

Adagio nearly ran over Applejack, soaked and with no trace of her coy humor. Her voluminous, uncovered curls had collapsed inwards from the water, engulfing the top of her light jacket. The stiletto heels tracked mud and water through the kitchen as she stormed to the table and threw down a dripping purse.

Applejack let her curiosity at their principal’s behind slide, instead snatching up a dishtowel and tossing it to her guest. “You’re nuts, girl. No raincoat or umbrella?”

Adagio sneered, but accepted the towel. “Only dorks use umbrellas.”

The siren’s brief effort at her face created a ghoulish effect with her makeup, a fact Applejack declined to point out. She did allow herself to mutter, “Because hypothermia is so fashionable,” before giving a cheerful, “At least you’re parked close.”

“No!” The towel now at least damper than her face, Adagio hurled it back to Applejack. “I got about halfway up your stupid hick dirt road before plowing into a ditch a mile wide.”

“Yee...ouch,” Applejack conceded. She knew exactly which ditch Adagio was talking about – a ridge on the roadside with a tendency to expand with the rain.

“That’s a good quarter-mile away,” Applejack said, now looking at her guest with grudging sympathy. Mud had spattered up Adagio’s leggings, and flakes of it patterned the rest. “You ran the rest of the way?”

“No shit,” Adagio snapped. “Look here’s your stupid game.”

She reached into the purse with shivering fingers and produced a game case emblazoned with Tirek’s face. Applejack didn’t give it a second look. “Girl, you are soaked through. Let’s get you outta those clothes before you catch pneumonia.”

It trembled, but Adagio’s coy smile returned. “Well played, farmer. Innocent girl crashes her car, comes to the redneck abode, and she is at your mercy to–”

Applejack cut in. “My mercy to get in the dang shower while I find you something dry. And get those shoes off. Granny will have my hide if you get mud on the carpets.”

Adagio pouted. “My feet will get cold.”

“I’ll find you slippers,” Applejack promised through grit teeth.

“Ew.” Adagio made a face. “Is that a thing farmers do? Share slippers?”

“I’ll get you some clean socks to go with them,” Applejack said. “Now do it and follow me.”

Mercifully for Applejack’s frayed nerves, Adagio complied. The game sat ignored on the table as Applejack herded her to the bathroom, picking up a bathrobe and towels on the way.

“Get cleaned up, get warmed up,” Applejack coached as Adagio set her soaked jacket on the toilet seat. “To be honest, unless this rain lets up I don’t think I can get you out tonight. I’ll start on dinner while you’re in there.”

Adagio’s grin peeled up to show a fang-like canine. “No peeking.”

That proved one jab too many for Applejack’s hospitality. She exhaled with a groan, locked eyes with the siren, and asked in a low voice, “Seriously: Why are you here?”

The grin vanished. “I told you,” Adagio said sharply, and closed the door in her face.

Guilt prodded Applejack’s heart, but her brain overruled. This was Adagio – somewhere, somehow, the girl had an angle.

Her heart made to argue, but she busied herself to give it no time. Clothes would be tricky. Applejack was roughly Adagio’s height, but the girl had pillows in all the places Applejack had boards. She couldn’t shake the feeling her own clothes would prove too thin, but also wondered if Adagio would turn her nose at something from Granny. She toyed briefly with the idea of using Mac’s pajamas before choosing a set of her own flannels that always felt a little baggy. They were good, fuzzy ones too – perfect for a rainy night.

“She’ll probably make fun of them,” Applejack grunted, but she set them by the bathroom door. Adagio would inevitably whine about everything, but Applejack would make damn sure it was unfounded. She even retrieved a pair of socks and took off her own slippers for the siren’s use, trading them out for Big Mac’s.

Satisfied with the clothes, she returned to the kitchen. Welcome or otherwise, no guest of the Apple family would get chicken tenders for dinner.

Hoping for the best, she pulled open the refrigerator and found it. A shepherd’s pie from Wednesday the siblings had yet to demolish. More than enough for two servings.

Sharing her grandmother’s disdain for the microwave, Applejack warmed the oven and scooped leftovers onto a cooking pan. Those and a few biscuits went in to heat, and as they did she threw some beans in a pot and set them to boil.

Applejack gave a lopsided smile at the work, experiencing a strange mix of pride and disappointment. Feeding a guest leftovers felt like heresy to Apple family values, but she lacked Granny Smith’s ability to cook wonders on short notice. Still, it was better than any of her friends could do.

A tiny part of her brain chipped in, noting it was better than Adagio deserved.

Applejack pushed it down, but her eyebrow arched at the sound of running water still coming from upstairs. She opened the oven, glancing at the clock – twenty minutes since the shower began. Applejack doubted she ever took a ten-minute one in her whole life.

“Dinner’s about ready!” she called. No answer came, but the water turned off in response. Applejack pulled food from the oven and fussed with the plates, keeping one ear open as the bathroom door opened and feet padded down the stairs.

She called out more softly as they drew closer. “What do you want to drink? Your options are water, milk, orange juice, and beer.”

Applejack headed to the fridge, listening as the footsteps entered the dining room behind her. Adagio’s voice answered, back to its phone-sex standard. “Water, please, but… beer?”

Applejack gave a light scoff at the implied stigma. She grabbed the water pitcher for her guest, and a bottle of horchata for herself. “It’s fine so long as you ain’t stupid about it. Of course you’re like a thousand, so...”

Her turn back from the fridge killed the rest of the sentence.

Adagio had taken place by the stove, helpfully dividing the food between two plates. She had passed on both bathrobe and slippers, clad in only Applejack's dull-colored, unfashionable plaid pajamas. But she was an even further cry from Applejack’s figure than the farm girl reckoned. From chest to tush, Adagio stretched the fabric in ways it never stretched before. An unholy mix of country and fashion-brat, which set Applejack to licking lips she was suddenly aware were visibly chapped. A blush rose, ignoring her stern command for it to cease.

Then Adagio turned to face, and “Holy Christmas, how is she breathing?”

Adagio might have wondered the same. She gave an annoyed look, but mingled it with a raised eyebrow and twinkle in the eye. “You did this on purpose. These are boy’s pajamas.”

Applejack willfully looked to the table and approached with the drinks. “No they ain’t, they’re mine.”

“They’re sized for a boy,” Adagio said, setting a plate down on Applejack’s side and reaching for the water.

Applejack sucked in the chapped lips, keeping her eyes away. “Yeah, well, so am I.”

Their fingers met as Adagio claimed her drink. Rough, peach-colored hands against manicured yellow. An ocean of difference.

They sat opposite of each other. Applejack raised her fork and shrugged, never quite reclaiming eye contact. “Let’s eat.”

“No prayer first?” came the mocking response, but in a gentle tone. Somehow, it made Applejack feel a little better.

“You a Christian?” Applejack asked, stabbing into the delicious, yet undeniable mess that was shepherd’s pie.

She almost heard Adagio’s blink, and let a tiny smile creep forth. Nice to get the damn sex-idol siren on the back foot.

“...No?” Adagio answered as a question.

“Then no prayer.” Like it was the most obvious thing in the world, Applejack said it and got to eating. Adagio followed suit with the beans, but looked with distaste at the pile of crust, meat, and vegetables on her plate. She nibbled, then apparently decided the pie met her standards and dug in.

The thunderstorm continued its barrage without interruption from the duo. They chewed, swallowed, and drank, and Applejack found herself at peace as the meal went on. The food was good – Granny’s food was always good – and eating with Adagio was better than eating alone.

A bean lodged in her throat, and took an extra bit of work to get down as she realized that last part. One-on-one, like this… Adagio wasn’t so bad.

“So far,” a part of her brain warned, but the rest was content to ignore it. Adagio wasn’t much of a conversationalist, spending the dinner tapping on her phone. Granny would have already smacked the offending hand with a ladle, but things suited Applejack just fine. Adagio alternated between confusing and aggravating when she talked, but when she was quiet…

Yes, she was as dang beautiful as it got. The curls had reclaimed their natural poof, framing the measured, pampered face, and spilling down just far enough to call attention to what lay below. The bust, the hair... something in them fit with the dull-red plaid. Like Adagio was a village beauty instead of an alien prima donna. Now with her makeup and lipstick washed clean, the little imperfections were visible. Cheeks that dimpled just a little too much, and a freckle here and there.

Applejack scratched her own freckles, feeling them catch fire as Adagio’s hand went from the phone to her chest. Yellow fingers slipped between the shirt buttons and scratched where her breast met her collar bone.

Then, as Applejack stared, the thumb worked open the button, and the whole hand slipped in.

The heat in Applejack’s face turned to ice as a voice spoke. “Normally I’d say you’d have to buy me dinner if you want more, but...”

Startled from her bliss, Applejack’s eyes shot up to meet a magenta set looking back at her. Adagio’s trademarked smirk had grown to a full-on leer. “Miss Family Values has a secret, hm?”

She overplayed. Applejack tilted in her chair, confident at least in her answer. “‘Closets are for brooms,’ or so my daddy said. Everyone who knows me, knows.”

“Well then you have a different secret,” Adagio purred, pressing her edge. “Which one of your friends is your own juicy apple?”

Applejack gave an easy shrug. “None of them. Six straight arrows, smart enough to know being gay don’t mean I’ll attack ‘em in the night.”

The grin faded back into a smirk, and the erotic scratching stopped. Adagio arched an eyebrow, and another peal of thunder delayed her words. “Sleepovers every month with six straight friends? Closet or no, you are repressed as hell.”

“Changing topics,” Applejack announced, drawing a cute – yes, she could admit it was cute – pout from Adagio. “Mac’s got the big truck and hitch, and he’s out of town. I could get mine and see what we can do for your car, but with this rain still coming down I’d only give fifty-fifty odds of getting it to solid land. Could also call a proper tow truck.”

“You have a hundred dollars for a tow?” Adagio asked.

“Nope.”

“Me neither,” Adagio sighed, putting a pause in Applejack’s thoughts. Tight finances had never reached her mental image of the fashionable, jewelry-studded siren.

Applejack went on, trusting her gut over her warning brain. “Only other thing is, spend the night here. We got guest rooms. I’ll throw your stuff in the washer, and if that don’t do the trick I’ll lend you some clothes tomorrow. Next morning, hopefully it’ll be high and dry and you can just relax while I get your car out.”

“Not a hard choice,” Adagio said. She pushed her empty plate away and gave a contented yawn, stretching wide enough to lift the shirt from her navel. Her eyes never left the blushing Applejack, and her grin returned. “I just got comfy. I’m not going back out in that.”

Applejack began collecting the dishes, moving her eyes away. “Sure thing. Can’t promise you won’t be bored.”

“I’m always bored,” the siren replied airily. With Applejack standing, she returned her attention to the phone. “Actually, I’m curious if Tirek’s Revenge lives up to its fame. I’ll watch you play it with your friends.”

Applejack froze, plates in hand. Adagio’s quizzical gaze reached her, and she felt her lips peel up to a cheesy grin.

“Y… yeah. About that.” Applejack took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I, uh, don’t have a computer that can run it.”

Adagio blinked.

Then snapped. “Are you kidding me!?”

She stood, slamming her hands to the table. “Jeez, is this your revenge? Why’d you make me come out here!?”

Defensiveness forced Applejack’s nerves back in line. She gave her own green-eyed glare in return. “I didn’t ‘make’ you do squat, girl. I don’t get how you’re shocked I don’t trust you after months of throwing the olive branch in our faces. Heck, I don’t even trust you now. You came this way, in this weather, to give me Tirek’s Revenge just out of the goodness of your heart? Mule-fritters.”

“Goodness of nothing.” Adagio threw her hands out. “I told you, it was payback. If Aria and Sonata can’t be ass-bothered to spend time with the one paying their rent, then screw them.”

Applejack set down the plates and folded her arms. “Pay them back by giving me a sixty dollar game?”

“Giving you their sixty dollar game,” Adagio corrected. “I bought three copies, one for each of us. And they’re too busy or whatever, so fine! You get it instead, and I’m going to make damn sure they know.”

“Y’all got issues,” Applejack said simply. She turned back to the plates. “I’ll put on a movie, okay? Just give two shakes to let me wash the dishes and I’ll show you what we got.”

---

Two shakes turned into three as Applejack loaded Adagio’s clothes into the washing machine. Mutual grumpiness kept them apart during the process, interrupted only for curt directions to the movie shelf. Applejack returned to find her guest browsing the options, wearing a look of disdain.

“Westerns and war movies. On VHS.” Adagio smirked with one side of her mouth. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. You get cable here? Net-TV?”

“Those cost money,” Applejack said. “Might be some more in the basement. What movies do you like?”

Adagio paused. A well-manicured finger hovered by one of the videos, then pulled it out. “War, actually. I was there.”

“Huh.” Applejack accepted the tape, feeling her temper cool with the revelation. “Yeah, you saw most of history. When did y’all arrive? Ever meet anyone famous?”

The half-smirk turned to a whole one. “I banged Carolus Rex.”

Adagio laughed out loud at Applejack’s blink. “Joking. To be honest, I never kept track. Years, nations, people – none of it mattered to us sirens. We were ageless and could speak any language, so we just spent our years wandering to whatever cities had the wine and silk. Then, when that empire crumbled, we wandered to the next. So many kings, rebels, and visionaries, and I’m sure some of them became famous. But we never tracked the names, so who knows?”

“Shame,” Applejack said. “Would be pretty cool to know what some of those folks in the history books were like.”

Adagio shrugged. “For you, I guess. For us, humans were just the terrain. The source of nourishment, pleasure, and service. Too short-lived to be worth knowing.”

Her lips pressed to a thin, flat line. “And now, we’re three of them. Short-lived humans.”

Applejack watched her. She made to speak, searching for some words of encouragement, but Adagio’s eyes grew hard. “Because of you.”

“If you’re waiting for an apology, you can just keep on waiting,” Applejack’s voice rolled back. She turned, busying herself with the video player. “Morbid curiosity, though: what would have happened if y’all won?”

“We go back to Equestria!” Adagio cheered with a strained grin. “Everyone’s happy.”

“Except the Equestrians,” Applejack noted.

“...And a lot of humans,” Adagio said. “With our full power restored, we’d start riots in every major city and suck up all the juicy hate. Enough so we can crush any would-be hero while we get set up back home.”

Applejack looked at her with a nonplussed frown.

Adagio at least had the grace to look embarrassed. She chuckled, scratching the back of her curls. “Of course, we couldn’t risk anyone warning Equestria, so the first thing would have been to… you know. Kill you all.”

The frown didn’t move, but one of Applejack’s eyebrows raised a full inch.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that.” Adagio waved her down, still chuckling. “Like I said, we saw humans as terrain. Do you feel guilt when you weed the garden?”

“You’re a weed now too,” Applejack said. But her eyebrow did go down, and she returned her attention to the tape player.

Adagio gave a grim laugh, settling herself on the couch. “I know. And if I ever forget, the other two are there to remind me every stinking day. We lost everything, we’re stupid humans now, and it’s all my fault. Never be a leader, Applejack. You just get blamed for everything.”

“Aria seems to be getting used to it,” Applejack offered. “Hanging with Trixie, I hear?”

Adagio huffed, tapping irately on her phone. “Joined her band. And Sonata just got a spot on a children’s television show. Good for them. Meanwhile, what do they have for the girl who spent ten months flipping burgers to keep them off the streets? ‘Waah, Adagio, I caught a cold and it’s your fault because we’re human.’ ‘No, Adagio, I’m too busy with my new friends to care that you wasted sixty dollars for me.’”

Applejack tried again, offering what she hoped was a good perspective. “Nothing says they don’t care, but you can’t expect them to drop their plans for you. They got different lives, now. Work around their schedules and they might come around.”

“Feh.” Adagio glared into her phone screen. “They don’t need me, I don’t need them.”

“You’re showing that by giving an expensive gift to someone you don’t much care for.”

“You’re not my therapist, farm girl.” Adagio stretched, occupying the whole of the couch. “Now make with the television. I’m in the mood for explosions.”

Applejack complied. Previews for decades-old movies played from the start of the video, giving her a chance to belatedly offer snacks. Adagio accepted, and as the previews went on Applejack left and returned with two bowls of popcorn.

The yellow siren didn’t make eye contact as she took her share of the snack. The phone was absent and the frown tight, and she said, “Sorry for snapping.”

“Me too.” Applejack gave a friendly smile that went unseen. Adagio sat up, retracting from her conquest of the couch, and Applejack took a seat as the opening music played. With a safe two feet between them, they settled in to watch Adagio’s selection. It was an old World War flick Applejack hadn’t seen since she was six, and she earnestly hoped it’d stand the test of time. She had no other ideas for how to kill an evening with Adagio.

...One other idea. Applejack’s eyes danced unbidden to Adagio’s flannel-clad bust before she forced them to the screen. Her cheeks burned beneath their freckles, and the knowledge they had too many freckles by far added its own flame.

Mercifully, the television derailed her thoughts, bringing Applejack into its fold of mindless entertainment. And the movie, indeed, was a mindless one – pipe-smoking, overacted heroes against Nazis with monocles and bad accents.

The popcorn was gone in the first half-hour. With nothing else to distract her from what had proven a lackluster choice, Adagio let loose a long, stretching yawn.

Again, Applejack’s eyes wound over her. The exposed navel. The rising bust, pressing into the shirt.

Adagio swayed with her exhale. With closed eyes and a lazy grin, she fell rightwards and deposited her head into Applejack’s lap.

“Girl–!” Applejack began, but a shush from beneath interrupted her.

“Relax,” Adagio sighed, still grinning. “Learn to relax.”

Blushing all the way to her shoulders, Applejack groaned and looked away. This was awful. She should stand. Show Adagio she could only take the teasing so far.

Adagio’s grin flashed teeth. “We both know you’re not going to stand.”

“Do we?” Applejack growled.

“Yep!” One eye cracked open and looked up at her. “You’ll enjoy it, if you let yourself.”

“How do I do that?”

“Relax,” Adagio said again, closing the eye. “You’re attracted to girls, I get it, and I’m a little hottie. Your brain’s telling you to be on guard, worried you’ll lose control or something. Thinking you’ll use me or get used. Am I right?”

“There’s more than that.” Applejack’s voice wobbled, her hand unconsciously kneading the orange curls as she spoke. “It ain’t polite to go ogling girls. And ogling a girl you got no chance with just leads to heartache, so best to swallow it down.”

“Good choice of words,” Adagio snarked, adding coals to Applejack’s cheeks. She went on more seriously, her voice adopting a questioning tone. “Is that what you do with your friends? Sleepovers, beach parties… force yourself to not think about it?”

Applejack grunted. “Got a better idea?”

Adagio shuffled, resting her cheek on Applejack’s thigh. “I keep telling you: relax. It’s a buzz, right? Like that beer. A silly, feel-good feeling that makes you just a little bit happier. Don’t turn it into an excuse for acting dumb, but ride it out. Enjoy it. One day you’ll meet someone you do have a chance with, and you’ll never make a move if all you do with that feeling is clam up. Learn to relax with it, and you’ll be smoother and more confident. Attraction will feel good, not bad, and that’s the way it should be.”

“You my therapist?” Applejack asked without malice. A smile crept onto her face, and her hand kept fidgeting with the orange hair.

“You need one,” Adagio replied. “Now hush. I want to see if Captain Flint can stop the Nazis.”

A foregone conclusion, of course, but Applejack shut up. She breathed slowly, trying to relax and surprising herself with how easy it was. Playing out the words in her brain, she gave herself permission to be attracted to Adagio and let the matter rest. Paralyzing awkwardness gave way to a giddy buzz, which itself faded like a sugar rush to lazy contentment. She continued to finger the curls, letting minutes pass by the dozen.

Thunder boomed outside. Rain warred with the television for volume, and Applejack’s first conscious thought since her coaching was of how pleasant it was inside. She had never changed to pajamas herself, but her clothes were plenty comfortable, and Adagio’s cheek was warm. And her hair…

Applejack closed her eyes, remembering the heights of her infancy. The mountain of beautiful orange hair, and the shining smile beneath.

Adagio spoke, as if she had waited for the realization. “Hair’s not the weirdest fetish, I guess.”

“Well it ain’t mine,” Applejack said sternly. “Just… you have pretty hair.”

She licked her lips. What was she thinking, talking like this to Adagio? But it felt right, so she went on. “My mom had hair like yours, before she passed. Orange and curly, and lots of it. I always liked playing with it. Now before you get funny, you ain’t one bit like her in any other way. Just… I don’t know. One of my earliest memories, you know? See the big orange curls and feel everything is okay.”

“I don’t mind,” Adagio said. Without turning from the screen, she sneaked a hand up and twirled a lock of Applejack’s blond hair. “Yours is a dream, too, but really your biggest draw is how lean you are. You’re not wrong to admire my bosom, but I’d trade it easily for your waistline. You’re lucky to be so trim.”

Applejack gave a friendly laugh. “Good news. Twenty hours a week doing farm work will make you ‘lucky,’ too.”

“Pass,” Adagio said. She sat up, now running both hands through Applejack’s hair. “Very long, but somehow no split ends. Do you ever braid it?”

“Nah,” Applejack said. “Takes too long.”

Adagio tucked her knees beneath her, turning fully to Applejack. “We’ve got time. Here, get your legs up.”

Applejack obeyed, kneeling to face away. The movie played on unnoticed as Adagio began, first by dividing the blond waterfall into manageable strips.

“One braid or two?” Applejack asked.

“One,” came the distracted response. Adagio’s hands never stopped moving. “Pigtails would be too country, even for y… huh.”

Her last move bared the back of Applejack’s neck. “Freckles down here, huh?”

“And further,” Applejack confessed, shamefaced. All the way down her back, and a smattering on the breasts for good measure.

She tensed, awaiting mockery, but Adagio moved on with a lone, “Looks cute.”

The motions of the braiding were efficient. Adagio had clearly done this before, a thought Applejack made to ask about more than once. Something derailed her each time – a brush of Adagio’s breasts against her back. The feel of warm breath on her neck as Adagio leaned in to examine her handiwork. A shuffle, followed by Adagio resting her foot atop Applejack’s.

The incidental touches were neither quite comfortable nor disturbing. It was both relief and disappointment when Adagio pulled away, announcing they were done. Applejack went to feel the braid, but Adagio snatched the hand short. Her work would be revealed in the mirror, with no hints before then.

Applejack went upstairs, followed closely by her yellow minder. A few more steps carried her to the bathroom, then the mirror. Adagio finally let Applejack curl the braid around her head, putting the blond knots into view.

Applejack grinned. “Looks real nice.”

Truth be told, she didn’t have much else to add. A braid wasn’t anything fancy to begin with, and if Adagio added any subtleties they were completely lost on Applejack. It was a tight, well-done braid that wrangled her tailbone-length hair into an ordered weave, and that was about it.

Adagio looked damn proud of herself, though, and Applejack wouldn’t rob the moment. She gave her head a shake, feeling the weight swing mace-like behind her. Not a bad look at all.

“Like a cartoon princess,” she murmured, giving it another shake. Just a braid, but she felt prettier with it. Freckles and all.

Freckles Adagio said were cute.

“Not bad, hm?” Adagio’s sultry voice breathed over Applejack’s shoulder. “They were fashionable years ago, and we always kept up with the fashion.”

Another moment of quiet admiration passed, and Adagio asked, “Are you meeting your friends tomorrow?”

Applejack hesitated at the sudden topic. Her mind questioned the reason, found no answer, and so she shrugged. “Maybe. Probably. Gonna give a call, and I really think they’ll be able to pull themselves from the game by then.”

“We should undo the braid, then,” Adagio said.

Applejack turned to face. “Why?”

Adagio ticked off steps on her fingers “They’ll see it. They’ll ask. And you couldn’t lie if the world was at stake. Word will spread, my friends will disown me as a traitor, and yours will interrogate both of us for evil, evil Adagio’s schemes. Or they’ll cheer at my ‘reformation’ and harass me to join their gang. Either way, I want none of it. This little companionship of ours ends tomorrow.”

“Well, leave it alone for now.” Applejack fingered the braid’s end. “I’ll take it out tomorrow when I shower.”

“Promise?”

“Couldn’t lie if the world was at stake.”

They both chuckled weakly, and Applejack’s next words were serious. “Tomorrow, huh? Back to being enemies?”

Adagio shrugged, giving an indifferent air. But her eyes slunk to the right, dodging Applejack’s gaze. “That’s a little too much, but we’re not friends. Don’t make this weird.”

A simple request. Applejack nodded, this time siding with her brain. “Okay.”

Silence fell. Then, “Reckon we should get to bed.”

---

The large house had plenty of spare bedrooms. Applejack left Adagio standing at the entrance of one and retired to her own. An early rest even for a farmer, but the day had been exhausting. Applejack stripped into pajamas, somehow reluctant to think about any of it. Tirek’s Revenge bubbled up, and was forced down. So was Adagio’s face.

She crawled beneath the covers, shivering at the contact. Fall was fading to winter, leaving everything cold at first touch.

Warmth came soon enough. Applejack sighed, then winced as her door opened with a chilly draft.

She looked up, and her jaw fell open. It was Adagio, of course, but somewhere in the last few minutes she had discarded the pajamas in favor of absolutely nothing.

Applejack covered her eyes. “What the hay!?”

“I sleep in the nude,” Adagio said, stepping over to the bed.

“Sure, fine.” Applejack waved an arm, surprise giving way to annoyance. “But why are you here? I gave you the toothbrush, and the–”

“I can’t sleep alone,” Adagio cut in.

Her eyes looked away, glinting white in the moonlight. “We always spent our nights together. A thousand years, and I never slept by myself. Ever. Now, Aria and Sonata stay out every Friday. I keep trying to sleep alone, and I keep failing.”

Yellow arms folded over the pillowy breasts. “I know it’s pathetic. I know I’m… going to have to get used to it. You can say no if you want.”

Applejack was already moving, pulling open the covers across the bed. “Get in, sugar.”

“A thousand years,” Adagio repeated, still looking away, The yellow arms trembled, and the moon’s reflection followed a streak down her face. “A thousand years, and we’re all but done. I am so fucking alone.”

Applejack grimaced. Thought of Tirek’s Revenge, and shook her head. “Some days, I feel the same. But I’m wrong, and so are you. Now get in here.”

A light, breathless chuckle came in response, and Adagio clambered in. Mercifully she kept to one side, giving Applejack her space.

For now. Shaky, but sultry, Adagio asked, “Want to have awkward sex and try to forget our problems?”

“No thanks,” Applejack said. “Want to sleep in the same bed without touching and pretend it’s a completely platonic sleepover?”

Adagio tilted her head, then nodded. “Only if I can spoon you after you fall asleep.”

“Reckon that’s the best I’ll get.” Applejack rolled over, putting an extra six inches and her clothed backside between them. “G’night, sugar.”

---

They slipped from the county fairgrounds and laid together in the crisp moonlight. Adagio grew up on the carrot farm next door, and the pair had been fast friends since they could walk. Now, they were ready to be something more. Applejack pulled the straw hat from Adagio’s head and gave her a soft, questioning kiss. The girl responded with a grin like the sunlight, and Applejack began opening the buttons on her flannel blouse.

“G’night,” had been the easy part. Applejack found herself not tired enough to fall asleep, but too tired to distract herself from the bubbling thoughts. Tirek’s Revenge, leading to Adagio. Pretty orange curls. Yellow breasts, more like grapefruit than apples. Bigger than even Pinkie Pie’s, and with a softer, earthier color than Fluttershy.

Lying naked, right next to her.

Guilt and arousal chased each other, leaving Applejack wide-eyed and sleepless. An hour? Two hours? No way for Applejack to tell how long she laid awake. The clock was on Adagio’s side of the bed. So was the phone.

Hard to tell whether that country fantasy was a dream or not. Applejack didn’t remember falling asleep, but it felt too real to be a daydream. She could remember the soft warmth of the lips, and the feel of the buttons on Adagio’s blouse.

Panic abruptly surged through her. Did she act out the dream while asleep? Did she undress and molest Adagio?

...No, that was stupid. Adagio was already naked. Yellow breasts, and orange curls...

---

Applejack was nude, tied with black leather into a humiliating position. The three sirens loomed above her, each with a wicked smile as they drew riding crops and whips. Applejack gasped as the first blow struck her cheek, then gasped again as Adagio leaned in to lick the wound.

Applejack should have found it terrifying. She didn’t.

Green eyes flew open. That one had definitely been a dream. No idea when or how she got to sleep. No idea how long she was out.

She bit down hard on a lip. Closed her eyes and tried to retain every fading detail of the dream. The leather. The lick. Her toes scrunched and her legs kicked against each other. Both hands squeezed the sheets, anxious to do what her body demanded.

Her mind went to the magazine beneath the mattress – Adagio was laying on it right now. Naked.

The hands squeezed tighter. Traitors. Dozens of sleepovers with the girls hadn’t tormented Applejack like this, so why now? Why these dreams? Why Adagio, of all people?

Growing desperation produced an answer so simple Applejack kicked herself for not seeing it earlier. Adagio had to be asleep. Time to slip out into the guestroom, and finish the night there.

She poked one foot over the bed’s edge, then the other. Applejack began scooching, softly enough so as–

A warm hand slipped onto her bicep. Applejack froze, and it pulled her to lie flat upon the bed. She stared upwards, irrationally thinking nothing more would come if she did not look.

Maybe she would have been right, but the siren gave her no choice. A gentle roll, a rustle of sheets, and Adagio was atop her. Yellow knees and hands put air between her and Applejack, save the cascade of orange that engulfed Applejack’s blond.

Pink eyes filled Applejack’s vision, and a voice asked, “Know what I think?”

“What?” Applejack managed, staring into the eyes. She dared not look away. Not with the eyes growing larger, and two warm weights descending on her chest.

“You were half-right,” Adagio breathed. “I’m not alone. But I am a little lonely, and I think you are, too.”

The kiss was soft. Almost unnoticed, with Applejack trapped by those eyes. Only belatedly did she realize she kissed back.

“Girl,” Applejack tried, but a second kiss interrupted.

“Relax,” Adagio sang quietly. She eased down onto Applejack, adding pressure to her belly and legs.

Applejack’s breath came heavy. Butterflies filled her stomach, yet they also fluttered through her limbs and head. She was nervous, but also giddy. She gripped hard on each yellow shoulder, with no idea whether to push or pull.

All the same, Applejack managed, “Wait, okay? I don’t want to get… you know. ‘Easy.’ Deflowered.”

“Deflowered?” Adagio said, sultry snark breaking through the emotion. “You’re so cute. No worries, sweetness. I’m not so easy either, but isn’t this fine right now? No wondering and doubting, or fearing to even look at me. No sleeping in fits and starts.”

“How long were you watching me?” Applejack asked. Adagio kissed her again, and again she reciprocated.

“The whole time,” Adagio said. “You were so tense it made me nervous.”

They were so close, Applejack could only think to do one thing. She reached up and delivered her own kiss.

“See?” Adagio grinned without mockery or shame, her dimples too wide without the makeup. Beautiful. “You feel better. Not so tense or afraid. Nor have you lost any control. You’re free to throw me out, and you’re free to run. But we both know it won’t be nearly as–”

This time, Applejack interrupted. She released Adagio’s arms to lock warm hands above the yellow back. A gentle pull squished Adagio closer, and Applejack leaned up to meet her lips.

This one lasted longer than the rest put together. They stopped for air, giggling, and rolled to lie side-by-side. Another kiss, and then another. A gentle playing with each other’s hair. An entangling of legs.

An adventurous kiss on a yellow neck, and an invitation from Adagio to kiss lower.

An accepted invitation.

Then more kisses on the lips. A drowsy, contented collapse. One more half-awake kiss, both knowing it was the end.

And one more dream.

They had been dating for two months. The sirens threw Adagio out when they learned, and she had lived with Applejack ever since. The pair were still getting used to each other, but their love and passion saw them through each time things looked rocky. Applejack woke that morning as she always did – with her naked lover climbing atop her, readying for one fast romp before school.

Comments

[forbloodysummer]

Lots of really nice moments here! I picked up a few typos, though:

Her hand still on the switch, Applejack felt the first peel of thunder rattle the old house.

This should be peal of thunder, as it is at one point later in the chapter.

Adagio had taken place by the stove, helpfully diving the food between two plates.

I think there might be a word missing in the first bit, and that it's dividing rather than diving?

Adagio wasn’t much of a conversationalist

Not sure if this is a deliberate countryism, but the usual word is conversationist.

[_SkyHorse]

Never the most attentive student, Applejack smile as she worked, mind drifting to the afternoon.

Smiled.

[nemryn]

8710100
I'd disagree on that last point; I've never even heard of "conversationist" until now.

[QueenMoriarty]

“No peaking.”

peeking

helpfully diving the food between two plates.

dividing

[QueenMoriarty]

8710100
It's conversationalist, Summer.

[forbloodysummer]

8711198 Oh, I did not mean to open this can of worms, sorry

Not conversionist, but conversationist. As opposed to conversationalist. The latter two are different forms of the same word, but yes, conversationalist, as originally stated in the story, is the preferred term. Which is news to me, so yeah, I was wrong.

[QueenMoriarty]

8711214
Huh. Was hoping I managed to edit out my misreading of it as 'conversionist' before you saw it. Guess not.