I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)
‘I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)’
“C’mon, sugarcube. Let’s get you home.”
Applejack hoisted Fluttershy onto her back. She was no help at all, sliding forward and burying her face into Applejack’s mane. Still, she wasn’t much heavier than a full barrel of apples, and those were easy to haul around.
Apple barrels didn’t tend to roll about and giggle, however. Applejack slowed her pace to something a mite slower than a casual stroll. The moon was full and bright, the air warm, the breeze cool. It would have been a nice evening for a long night walk.
“Applejack,” Fluttershy mumbled, lengthening the l-sound so the name came out sounding like Aplll-jack, “thank you for holding my mane for me.”
“T’weren’t nothin’,” she replied. “You’d’ve done the same for me.”
“You’re nice, Aplll-jack.” Applejack could feel Fluttershy shifting around again. She was likely to go flank over forelegs and spill all on the ground if she wiggled about any more. “You’re so nice to everypony.” Everypony came out as evrrpony.
“Well, you’re mighty nice too, hun.”
“Do you really think so?” Fluttershy perked up beyond what time-passing chitchat should warrant.
Applejack paused before speaking, giving her answer some gravity. “Of course I do,” she said with all sincerity, “of course you’re nice.”
“That’s good,” Fluttershy said, relaxing back into Applejack’s mane. “We are two nice ponies.”
A few long moments passed in quiet. Insects sang their creaking humming songs to the night. Applejack’s hoofsteps provided a steady beat.
“Hey Applejack,” Fluttershy asked without warning, “can I wear your hat?”
She took it without waiting for a response. Applejack craned her head around to see Fluttershy place the stetson askew on her own head, which brought forth a fresh burst of giggling. She tried to adjust the hat and nearly overbalanced, making Applejack perform a rapid side-step to keep Fluttershy in place.
“Careful now,” she cautioned, returning to the path that led to Fluttershy’s cottage. “Y’almost went’n upset the whole applecart there.”
“I wonder,” Fluttershy mused. Iii… wunnr. “If I have your hat, will I talk like you do?”
“You jes’ might,” Applejack said with a wry smile, purposely adding extra twang to her voice.
“Ah jes’ maht,” Fluttershy mimicked in a hopelessly exaggerated Appleloosan accent. “How’m ah doin’?”
“I reckon yer doin’ fine, pardner.”
“Aw shucks,” Fluttershy said, and started giggling.
To stop herself falling, Fluttershy held on around Applejack’s neck. Pressed close, Applejack could feel her light laughter as well as hear it.
“Mm, I like how you talk,” Fluttershy said. “It’s warm, and nice, and cozy, and you call ponies sugarcube. I like when you call me sugarcube.”
“Why’s that,” Applejack asked, grinning, “sugarcube?”
“Because it’s cute.” Cute dipped and wavered, becoming two separate words: cuu-uute. “It’s cute and sweet, like a little cube of… sugar.”
“I suppose it is something similar to a cube of sugar,” Applejack said with the straightest face she could manage. A single escaping laugh was enough to set Fluttershy off again.
Applejack walked for a distance without anything said after Fluttershy lapsed into silence once more. “Sugar,” she asked in a low voice after a moment, “you fall asleep back there?”
“Uh-uh, I’m awake,” Fluttershy murmured. “Why don’t you have your mane out more, Applejack?”
“I don’t rightly know,” she said, which was the truth. “I guess I got used to havin’ my mane outta the way when I’m workin’ on the farm.”
“But you’re not working on the farm now,” Fluttershy observed.
“No, I ain’t.”
“No, you ain’t.” Applejack could hear the smile in Fluttershy’s voice as she tried again to copy her accent. Then she could feel a tugging on her mane; Fluttershy was stealing the band that kept it in place.
Typically, the only time Applejack had her mane down and her hat off was in her bedroom, having just dried her mane after a bath. In the middle of the night on a road that went by the Everfree Forest, however, it wasn’t like there was anypony around to see her.
Well, nopony but Fluttershy.
“How do I look?” she asked.
“Your mane’s really nice,” Fluttershy said. “It’s mighty fine.”
“I think your accent’s gettin’ better.”
“Really?”
“It must be the hat.”
Applejack rounded a corner and Fluttershy’s cottage came into view, the surrounding trees and gardens filled with a menagerie of sleeping animals.
“That was fast.” Fluttershy sounded awed. Amazed, and possibly a little disappointed the trip had been so swift.
“You alright to walk?”
“I think I am.” Fluttershy slid to the ground in a single liquid movement. She leaned against Applejack for a brief moment before finding her balance.
“Well,” Applejack said, suddenly feeling unable to find the right words to say, “g’night.”
“Um, Applejack…” Fluttershy glanced at her front door, and then down at the ground. Applejack’s hat tipped, covering her eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Would you mind spending the night?”
Applejack gave a warm smile. “I reckon I can do that.”
“You’re a nice pony, Applejack,” Fluttershy said from underneath the stetson. “We have to be quiet now,” she said in a theatrical whisper, “because we don’t want to wake anyone who’s asleep.”
“No,” Applejack agreed with a hushed voice.
The two ponies crept into the cottage and up the stairs to the bedroom. Fluttershy collapsed onto her bed.
“I really like you, Applejack,” Fluttershy whispered. “You’re a nice pony,” she repeated, and leaned in towards her.
Applejack planted a kiss on Fluttershy’s forehead. “You get some sleep, sugarcube,” she told her.
Fluttershy fell back into her pillow, eyes closed. “I will,” she said with a smile.
Applejack backed out of the room and made her way to the couch downstairs. She sighed, and closed her eyes to try to find some sleep of her own.