> Apple Salsa
>  by Damaged
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Honesty is the Best Policy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"It's funny how it goes." McIntosh Apple looked out at the groves of apple trees and sighed. He'd graduated high school, and now so had Applejack, but while she'd gone on to college, he'd taken up the family business.

Caring for the whole orchard was one thing—he could do that with stubborn determination and 14 hours of work a day—but picking the apples was another. Even if he, his sisters, and Granny Smith were all in their prime and working hard, they wouldn't be able to get the job done on even a quarter of the orchard.

Reaching into his pocket, McIntosh drew out his phone. It was Applejack's hand-me-down, an older model, but still perfectly serviceable. Part of him wished he could clear the picture of his sister and her friends from the background, while another part was adamant that it was a reminder of why he worked so hard.

He hated talking on phones, which is why McIntosh loved the invention of texting.


—I need some hands for harvesting. About thirty should do it.—


Waiting was the easiest thing in the world to do. McIntosh could wait better than anyone, but he didn't have to wait long.

—I can have thirty there in two days. Usual pay.—


—And fee. I know. Thanks.—


It helped to know the right people for these things. McIntosh only knew the right people because, after his parents had died, Granny Smith had organized things—but now she wasn't so good at the organizing.





Relief flooded McIntosh as he watched the workers start spreading out to do their work. Almost all of the orchard needed picking. Most of the workers didn't speak English, which is why there was always someone sent to translate and explain things—and it had been a shock to McIntosh to see who that was.

"We should be through with this in another two weeks. Is that fine?"

Sonata Dusk. Alien. Monster. Siren. Spanish interpreter, apparently.

"Eeyup." McIntosh was surprised at her appearance, but surprised further that she seemed honest in her work. What really took the cake, though, was that the people working seemed to like her too. "I know who you are—who you were."

"I like the last part of that. Look, I don't have any of that power anymore—and I don't want it again. If you don't want me working—"

Noticing the way she dipped her head down, the way she sighed when she knew her past was going to affect her, McIntosh cut in. "You're doing a good job."

She froze and stared at McIntosh for a moment before smiling. The smile wasn't the kind of thing someone wore to appease society—Sonata smiled as if she meant it. "Thanks. I promise I'll keep it up."

McIntosh left her to her work and, despite his initial worry, she got to the end of the two weeks just fine. The orchard was picked and the apples shipped off. In the end he released the escrowed funds for the workers' pay and expected her and all of them to leave.

And that was why it surprised him to see her waiting at the house, wearing the same denim overalls and dirty yellow shirt as always, when he returned from the back field. He was in no rush to talk with her, so didn't feel like running, but at the same time he was cautious as to what she wanted. When he finally got within earshot, he called out, "Hey."

She waited until he was almost all the way up to the door of the house before she acknowledged him. "Hi, uh, can we talk about something?"

Nodding toward the kitchen door, McIntosh led the way and held the door open to Sonata. As she walked past him, he noticed not just that she looked a little hunched over, but she smelled of earth, apples, and tears.

It was the last thing he couldn't abide by. "Can I get you a drink? Tea? Juice?"

"Juice, please." Sonata took a seat at the table and folded her hands together. "I don't know who else to ask or where to go. Where I was staying is—I don't have anywhere to stay now. I—"

She paused when McIntosh carried a glass of chilled apple juice over to her. He poured another for himself, walked around the table and sat opposite her. "You need somewhere to live?"

Sonata's head jerked up from her glass, having just sipped some of the apple juice. "Y-Yeah. I don't have any money, but—but I can work for room and board!"

McIntosh already knew that his sister would be belligerent on the topic. His mind ran over what chores needed doing and what they could do already. An extra portion of food and extra bed were no consideration at all. "Okay."

When he got an incredulous stare from Sonata, McIntosh pushed on. "Chores around the house. Yard-work. Granny ain't the best at keeping up with all the dusting. Do you have many things?"

Sonata looked at McIntosh and promptly burst into tears, and when McIntosh stood up and started moving around the table, she seemed unable to control herself and met him halfway.

Wrapping his arms around Sonata as she cried against his chest was all McIntosh could think to do. He stood there, holding her, just being there for her, until the tears slowed and stopped.

"I don't have anything else," Sonata said with a loud sniff.

With two little sisters, it wasn't hard to spark McIntosh's protective instincts. He let her lean back from him and took her hand. "C'mon."

He practically had to tug her along by the arm, determined to make her smile again. Upstairs was his, and his sisters' bedrooms, while downstairs was Granny's (because her hips didn't deal well with stairs anymore, a fact that helped the young Apples maintain some privacy) and the master bedroom.

Opening the door to the master bedroom, McIntosh gritted his jaw in readiness for what Granny would say to him, let alone Applejack. He marched Sonata up to the closet and opened it. "Pick what clothes you can use out of here. You can sleep in here if you need to."

She took a moment to look around the room and wipe her eyes. "Whose room is this?"

"M' parents'. They don't need it anymore." Turning, McIntosh walked from the room, closed the door behind him, and made his way down the hall to the kitchen.

Busying himself making a sandwich for his lunch, McIntosh thought back on his parents. His mom, he could remember, loved helping people—something his dad had learned from her. McIntosh had learned that too, which is why he let Sonata use his parents' room.

By the time he was done eating the sandwich and another glass of juice, he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. When she reached the kitchen doorway, McIntosh looked up at her. She'd washed her face clear of tears and changed out of her dirty overalls into a pair of yellow linen pants with a sky-blue shirt.

"Th-Thanks," Sonata said.

McIntosh couldn't remember exactly when his mother had worn that outfit, but he could remember her wearing that combo. "'S no problem. You look good in that." The moment he'd said that, McIntosh watched a sunrise on Sonata's face as she broke into a smile. He knew his parents would approve of this.

"So. House, yard… anything else?" she asked.

"Honestly? Granny tries to do too much around the house. If you could have it clean by the time she gets back from her job at the school, it'd be great." And it would be. McIntosh had been worrying about Granny Smith for some time now. She'd become more forgetful, and though she swore she was fine, he could see her wince in pain when she moved.

"I can do that! Thank you, again."

Leaving her to it, McIntosh headed outside to get back to work. He had more to do in the far grove, but decided to stick close to the house to attempt to smooth things over with Applejack and Apple Bloom when they got home.

It wasn't make-work—there was always things to do on the farm no matter where he looked—but McIntosh found himself repeatedly looking back at the house. Pruning back some young apple trees, he glanced up and noticed Granny Smith's little truck she drove around in parked beside the house.

Rushing back to the house, McIntosh opened the kitchen door expecting to see a war going on. Instead, he could see Granny Smith sitting at the table while Sonata brought her a cup of tea. It looked so normal that McIntosh just stood in the doorway staring for almost a minute.

"Ah, there he is. You're just like your father, McIntosh Apple." Granny Smith's tone held more focus and awareness than he'd heard for some time, though just as much of the Apple accent leaked through it. "Good taste, too. Sonata here was just telling me how she needed somewhere to stay. You have something planned?"

"Err, uh…" McIntosh was tongue-tied a little. He looked at Sonata, then back to Granny Smith. "I figured she could sleep in Ma and Pa's room."

"I'm old, McIntosh, not blind." Granny picked up the cup of tea Sonata put before her and, when she sipped it, let out a sigh. "'Bout damn time, too. Just see that you don't overwork her, or I'll be fixing to give you a good talking-to."

"Yes, Granny," was all McIntosh could say to that.

"You rushed up here because you thought your sisters were home. Don't you worry now, McIntosh, I'll take care of them."

Looking from Granny to Sonata, McIntosh had no clue if things would be fine, but he found himself trusting Granny. "Eeyup." Turning around, he fled the kitchen for the more comfortable (at least for him) orchard.

With Granny's promise, McIntosh let his mind sink into his work and ignore the giddy little feeling of happiness that came whenever he thought of Sonata's smile.

It wasn't until the sun stole his light that McIntosh decided it was time to return to the house and see to the explosions he'd expected to have happened. By the time he put his tools away and took care of hygiene, it was full dark.

Applejack, Apple Bloom, Granny Smith, and Sonata Dusk were all sitting at the kitchen table together, and McIntosh could almost hear the grinding of teeth coming from eldest sister. Opening the door, he stepped inside and smiled around the table. "Hey I—"

"McIntosh Apple," Applejack said, "can we have a talk outside?"

There was so much wrong with that sentence, and McIntosh had no desire to go outside and listen to whatever Applejack was going to say. She never used his full name, and she never spoke without her accent—but she just had.

Turning and opening the door, McIntosh turned and stepped back out into the cooling night air. With autumn halfway gone, he could already smell winter coming. Footsteps behind him made McIntosh let out a sigh. "You might as well start. They're gonna hear you no matter what."

"Sonata Dusk, really? Why on earth would you think it was a good idea to—"

"Because she had nowhere else to go." McIntosh was surprised he had cut in on his sister. "She worked here with the fruit-picking workers. When the job was done, she told me she had nowhere to go next."

"And you believed her?!"

"Yes. I did. Still do."

"And she seems to have Granny under her thumb now, too! Why'd you go and let a siren into our house, Mac, and was she wearing one of Mom's dresses?!"

Lowering his head, McIntosh thought back to when he was younger. McIntosh would have given as good as he got so far as shouting went, but he'd learned one thing as he'd grown up. "You gave Sunset Shimmer a second chance." He lifted his head again to look in Applejack's eyes. "What do you think Mom and Dad would think?"

Applejack's shoulders lowered and her whole posture collapsed so she was basically slouching in place. "That's not fair, Big Mac. Mom and Dad wouldn't—"

"You know they would. They helped plenty of folk." Reaching out his arm, McIntosh put it around Applejack's shoulders and pulled her against him for a hug. At first she resisted—and with her strength that meant she didn't move an inch—but she gave in and leaned against him. "You trust Sunset, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah I figure I do."

"So ask her what she thinks. Ask her if you should give people second chances." McIntosh squeezed, knowing Applejack could take whatever hug he'd give her. "But tonight, why don't you get to know someone who just needed somewhere to live?"

"She was cleaning up the kitchen when I got in. Granny was sitting there, chatting to her like nothing was wrong. They were talking about pie recipes." When McIntosh's hug started to get a bit too much, Applejack flexed her muscles and held back his strength. "What if she gets her magic back?"

"Well, the way I figure it, if Sonata gets her siren magic back, she'll need real friends more than ever." Easing back, McIntosh turned back toward the house.

"Okay, but what I mean is her magic is so much—She could hurt people with that."

"So could anyone with more magic than the average person, A.J." Taking a step back toward the kitchen door, McIntosh tilted his head back and looked back at her with one eye. "You coming?"

Standing still under an apple tree, Applejack looked up into the branches above her. The only way McIntosh could see that was a stray beam of light from the back door.

"I'll give her a second chance. You're right. Even if she does get her power back and all that. You're way too good with words, Big Mac."

Chuckling, McIntosh met Applejack's eyes when she finally looked at him. "Eeyup."





It took less than a week for things to settle down. McIntosh had gotten used to finding something filling made for lunch each day when he came in from the orchard, and he definitely liked seeing Granny Smith no longer trying to do house-chores.

Opening the door, barely a month after Sonata had moved in, McIntosh could smell all kinds of spices coming from the stove. His eyes locked on Sonata and he had to keep from grinning like a fool. "That smells mighty good."

Looking over her shoulder, Sonata pinned McIntosh with her eyes. "And here I thought you were all about apples. Why don't you try this."

Watching her wipe her hands on a towel tucked into her apron, McIntosh became a little dizzy-headed at the smell of the meal. She set a plate with six crispy round balls with a reddish sauce in a bowl beside them. "Uh, what are they?"

"There was a time when the other two were angry with me. One time that happened, I just left and found my own way. It was easier back then."

Sonata sat down at the table and used her fingers to pick up one of the balls, dip it in the sauce, then took a bite.

McIntosh felt himself drooling at the look of pure delight on her face. Picking up one himself, he mimicked Sonata's action and took a bite of the sauce-covered ball. Sweet and spicy hot, the sauce was tamed by the cheesy filling.

"Tomato, onion, and honey salsa. The croquettes are filled with requeson and cotija cheese and breaded. This is street food from my time there."

Grinning as she smiled around another mouthful, McIntosh followed her example and, together, they ate the rest of the croquettes together.

But Sonata looked nervous. "It's really okay? I don't mind cooking the western food, but this—"

"It tasted great." Three words was all it took for McIntosh to put a huge grin on the woman's face. "Really. I could eat this every day." It was true. He had enjoyed everything she'd cooked so far, but this was a cut above the rest. And that wasn't even counting how happy she looked for having cooked it.

The evening meal was the same western dish as normal—a hearty stew with individual apple danishes for dessert—but that day was the start of McIntosh's lessons on Mexican food. Each lunch bore no resemblance to the tacos he'd had at Canterlot High every Tuesday, but that was something he thanked every day for.

Weekends were different only due to Apple Bloom being home for lunch. Granny Smith and Applejack would both get out of the house to visit their respective friends, but Apple Bloom had learned that she liked Sonata's special lunches too.

With winter rolling through, McIntosh's work became mere maintenance. The orchards had all dropped their leaves and were trimmed back to weather the cold months as all their attempts at growing stopped and were replaced with survival.

As the days got shorter, McIntosh's work hours dwindled. One afternoon, when he was already finished with his work, he heard cursing coming from nearby the barn.

As McIntosh got closer, he realized it was Sonata's voice letting loose with a string of Spanish that made his eyebrows jump in shock despite not understanding the words—she just sounded angry. He rounded the corner of the barn and saw the problem, Sonata had an ax in her hand and was shouting obvious obscenities at a piece of wood.

"You need a hand with that?" McIntosh asked.

Her head turned and Sonata seemed to slump against the axe. "I still get a bit angry sometimes. Cutting wood helps with that, but it's extra annoying today."

"Angry?" Walking up, McIntosh examined the old wood.

"I mean, I'm a predator, I used to hunt all the time and—" Sonata bit her lip and watched McIntosh position the wood. "There's a little part of me that still wants to be a monster."

Tapping at the wood, McIntosh said, "Hit it there."

She waited for him to step back before swinging the ax overhead and down into the wood. "Thanks. I just wish that bit would go away completely."

"Do you really want that? Even humans sometimes want to hunt." Setting up the next piece, McIntosh stood up and walked around behind Sonata. "Also, you need to control the ax more."

Before McIntosh realized it, he was standing with Sonata's back pressed against his chest and with both of them holding the ax. Swinging it slowly back, he swung up in an arc and around—and brought the head down on the wood with a solid strike. "Like that."

"You, uh, want to show me that again?"

Even rugged up against the cold winter air as he was, McIntosh could feel Sonata breathing faster, and he could definitely feel her leaning back against him.

Surrendering his grip on the ax, McIntosh ran a hand along Sonata's shoulder. "Sure can." He leaned down and lined up another piece of wood to cut.

Again he lined himself up behind her, reached around Sonata, and McIntosh brought the ax down into the wood with her. "Like that."

When Sonata let go of the ax, McIntosh held it easily in one hand, but she didn't stop there. She turned against him until they were chest to chest, and before he knew it their lips were pressed together.

For a moment McIntosh felt stunned, shocked that she'd kiss him. A moment later he was just as surprised to find himself kissing her back. "Wait," he said when he pulled back from Sonata a little. "I, uh, didn't mean to force myself on—"

"You didn't force yourself on me, McIntosh." Sonata moved closer again, close enough their bodies touched. "Sometimes that predator in me wants to be angry—you just gave me a different thing to focus on."

It had been two years since McIntosh had been in high school—the last time he'd socialized at all. He hadn't had a girlfriend back then, but he wasn't exactly new at chance encounters. "You—You uh—" Not sure what else to do, he leaned forward again and kissed Sonata.

She was strong. McIntosh felt it when she reached up to his shoulders and pulled herself up against him. When he closed his arms around her back, she jumped and caught him around the waist with her legs.

Holding her there, as a light snowfall started coming down, McIntosh could only think about the smile her lips were making pressed against his. Hunger, of a new kind, drove him to walk to the barn's side door and turn to push it open with his back. Inside, and still working his lips against Sonata's, he made his way to the ladder.

As he lifted one foot onto the first rung of the ladder, Sonata broke the kiss with a laugh. "McIntosh, you can't really mean to carry me up to the loft, surely?"

The tone in her voice spoke a different tune to McIntosh. He let go of her rump with one hand and used it to climb the ladder almost halfway before he replied, "Eeyup."

Adjusting her grip so she could hold on without his help, Sonata pressed her nose and lips to his neck and started nibbling.

The climb to the top of the loft was far easier with both hands free. McIntosh only had to deal with the searing need inside him and the gentle bites of the temptress clinging to his chest. The loft was almost full of straw, and though McIntosh was sure he could deal with the prickling, sharp pokes of the dried grass, he didn't want that for Sonata.

Turning her head to look at what McIntosh was messing with, Sonata watched him spread the old horse blanket over the straw. "What are you—Oh!" She let go and landed on the musty old blanket with a soft bounce.

McIntosh slid his cold-weather jacket off, then grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted up—unhooking the top two buttons when he reached them. The shirt met his jacket at the corner of the blanket.

The sight of Sonata staring up at him, hunger in her eyes, only fueled McIntosh's own desire.

"Is that for me?"

Her head had tilted. McIntosh followed her eyes and looked where she was looking—his pants. He reached a hand toward his belt, but Sonata moved faster. Grabbing his wrist, she looked up the length of his body and shook her head.

"That is for me."

McIntosh didn't stop her from unbuckling his belt, undoing his pants, and pulling them down. The bulge was more visible now it only had his shorts hiding it. "Eeyup." But he'd had enough with her teasing. Reaching down, he hooked both hands under her arms and lifted her up—then tasted her lips again with another kiss.

Her hands seemed like they were everywhere at once. One stroked his chest, the other reached down the back of his shorts to squeeze one of his cheeks, then the first trailed down to his belly and down the front of his shorts.

Grunting as her hand circled him, McIntosh shuddered as her delicate fingers trailed along his length—teasing it longer—and gently traced a line under the bottom of his glans while she squeezed. "Why don't you park your butt on the blanket and let me show you what you're getting?"

When he didn't move fast enough, McIntosh felt Sonata squeeze him one more time and then turn—using her momentum to toss him aside while tripping him. It was such a surprise to find himself landing on his rear that he looked up at Sonata in shock for a few seconds. A few seconds in which she reached behind her back.

He watched as her undershirted self emerged from the thick, woolen winter dress. When she wiggled her hips a little, McIntosh wondered what Sonata was doing—but then the dress went down to the straw at her feet.

Following her lead, he kicked off his boots and shucked out of the pants that had tripped him moments before, then he reached to the shorts. The shorts that were the only thing he was wearing. She'd stopped undressing, her attention focused on him as he slid them down just enough to reveal his manhood.

"Ffff—"

Sonata gulped visibly, her eyes locked on McIntosh's shaft.

"I guess that's why everyone calls you Big Mac?"

She worked fast now. Sonata stripped off the shirt she'd been wearing and the light bra under it. With the dress gone she stepped out of a pair of winter leggings and kicked her shoes off with them.

He hadn't seen her naked before. As the months had grown colder, Sonata had only put on more and more thick clothing. Seeing her without a stitch on, however, made him harder than ever. But, even as he took in her breasts, her tight belly, the cleft between her legs, and her legs too—McIntosh could see the heat wicking off her body in wisps. "Aren't you cold?"

She tilted her hips to one side and planted her hands on them. Her smile made McIntosh's heart beat faster.

"Why, McIntosh Apple, are you inviting me to share body-heat?"

The twang she'd put in her voice, a perfect mimic of his family's southern accent, made McIntosh nod. "Eeyup."

When he reached a hand up to her, Sonata took it and let him take her weight and lead her down to the impromptu bed. Rather than lay beside him, Sonata arched her back and pressed her nose against the skin covering his top row of abdominal muscles. Slowly, inhaling the warming air from his body, Sonata slid up him until she was hunched over his chest.

"You smell amazing."

McIntosh was done with her teasing. Reaching up with one hand, he grabbed her by the shoulder and rolled her sideways while pulling the blanket with him—landing on top with the edge of the old, smelly blanket on top of them. He looked down into her eyes and saw the smile from her lips extended all the way up into them. "I want you."

"Then have me."

Grabbing at her breast, McIntosh squeezed it and watched the smile on her lips part into a cry of pleasure. While his hand worked, he positioned himself where he thought he needed to be. His first thrust hit her mons pubis, so he adjusted himself down a little, let go of her breast and reached down between them, and used his hand to guide himself to her entrance.

He didn't wait. He'd asked her enough and now it was time to do. McIntosh leaned forward and bore down, pushing into the slick entrance.

Sonata broke eye contact with him and tilted her head back. She howled as he pressed deeper, and when he bottomed out she reached up to his back and clutched tight to the flexing muscles there.

"Don't you—don't you dare stop."

"Didn't plan to." McIntosh pulled back and then drove in again. He set his pace and grunted with each thrust. Every muscle and sinew strained with the effort he put into their coupling. As he drove into her a little deeper with each thrust, she looked up at him with wild eyes and steaming breath coming from between her smiling lips.

It had been a while for him, for sure, and this led to a reduced staying power. He plowed into her too deep and too fast to keep it up for too long, but before he reached that point where his climax was inevitable, he felt Sonata clamp down around him and heard her start to howl.

Her voice was deep and throaty, it halted him in his tracks—at full depth—just to watch as her face flexed into an almost animal-like innocence. Only when she started to relax did he start again. This time things were easier, though Sonata's hands seemed more focused on where they traveled.

She stroked his shoulders, his chest, one hand went down between them to feel his abdominal muscles while the other snaked behind his head—jerking him down into a kiss.

Even through the kiss he kept his pace going. Her lips tasted of apples and spicy chili, but they complimented so well it only made McIntosh hungrier for more of her.

Nearing his end, he curled his forearms under her shoulders and gripped her tight with both hands. Driving forward and into her while he pulled her down onto him, McIntosh felt his balls start to tremble and swell—at the point of no return.

Sonata broke the kiss and licked along his mouth, looked deep into his eyes and said, "Fill me."

He squeezed his eyes closed as his body tensed up. A fire boiled inside, poured through his groin like raw, liquid heat, and shot down his shaft and into Sonata.

Sonata kept him pinned down against her as she swore in Spanish. With no opportunity of arching his back up, he clung tight in return and hammered his hips into hers as he came.

As the forever-moment of climax started to fade, McIntosh slumped down against Sonata, his vitality spilled and spent. He wanted to do and say so much. He wanted to tell her how amazing she was and how good it felt, but all McIntosh could do was pant—and even that was stolen from him when she pressed her lips over his.

Struggling to breathe and keep kissing her, he braced his weight on his elbows to keep from crushing the amazing woman beneath him. But he couldn't keep it up, he needed to speak. Breaking from her kiss, McIntosh was startled when she braced one arm and shoved him sideways. Rolling, he was soon on his back with Sonata sitting on his hips—with him still inside her.

"Okay, that might not be why everyone calls you Big Mac, but it's now why I call you Big Mac."

"Now what?" he asked.

"Now, if you're up for it—"

"Eeyup."

Sonata snorted and giggled. Rolling her hips, she brought McIntosh back to full hardness with just one stroke of her velvet passage up and back down his length.

"Oh apples—" McIntosh barely got the words out when she rolled her hips again. He grunted and looked up into Sonata's eyes and saw excitement and hunger in them—and just below her eyes was the biggest smile he'd seen on her face yet.

"You want some apples? Why not these apples?"

Reaching down, Sonata lowered her chest over McIntosh and let her modest breasts hang over him—letting them sway with each roll of her hips.

Straining his back, McIntosh reached up to catch her breasts with his hands and crunch his abs to lean forward and kiss one—then the other. "I like apples."

"Oh?"

"I like your apples." With his jaw closed, McIntosh ran his teeth across her nipple, then opened his mouth fully and sucked on it. Her squeal in his ears only encouraged him—McIntosh brought his teeth together carefully and pressed them against her flesh.

Sonata let out the longest and most heartfelt moan yet, arching her back to make a gift of her chest to McIntosh.

"Right now they're your apples. Little Mac, though"—she reached an arm back and stroked the base of McIntosh's shaft—"he's mine."

When Sonata punctuated her statement with a tight squeeze of his shaft with her pelvic muscles, McIntosh couldn't hold himself back. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her down against him, crushed her chest into his, and shot a second load into Sonata's depths.

The deep groan that got past his lips left no doubt in anyone listening as to what he was doing, but rather than silence him with a kiss, Sonata changed the angle of her rolling hips and kept going—driving him deeper into the biggest rutting orgasm of his life.

Even with his second load thundering into her, Sonata kept going. Her hips rocked and McIntosh squirmed under her. His shaft wouldn't go down—not completely—though he had lost his hardness.

"Come on, I'm close. Please?"

At the whims of the male refractory period, McIntosh reached up around Sonata and hugged her against him. "Gimme some—Gimme some time."

When she lay down against him, stretching out like a cat on a hot rock, McIntosh let out a low and happy rumble. Pulling the edge of the smelly old blanket, he wrapped it up and over her so she wouldn't get cold.

"We're both going to smell like horses for a bit, aren't we?"

"Eeyup. Unless we run inside and have a shower right away." Trying to remember where their clothes were, McIntosh gave up and instead decided on his path. "Want to?"

"A warm shower with you? Sure, but what about the oth—?"

Bringing one big hand up, McIntosh pressed a finger to her lips—that she then playfully bit. "They're all hunkering down in the city. Can't blame them, but it does mean we're all alone out here."

"All alone—together."

Hearing her practically purr the words made up McIntosh's mind. "Hold on," was all the warning he gave her before lifting her free and breaking their union, then—holding her cradled in his arms—he advanced on the ladder.

"You can't mean to go out there like this?!"

"I'll run. Don't you worry." Climbing down the ladder wasn't easy, but using one hand he managed to get halfway down and then jumped the rest. Walking to the door, he could already feel the chill of the air outside seeping in. "Three, two—" Kicking the door open, McIntosh Apple started to run like a banshee was after him.

By the time he got them into the warm house, McIntosh and Sonata were both laughing despite the chill.

"What about the wood?" Sonata asked.

"I'll take care of my wood."





With the genie out of the bottle, the week of being snowed in had become a lesson in what surfaces could take their weight. McIntosh's bed was one of the first places they tested, but the kitchen table and kitchen bench both turned out to be fit for purpose.

McIntosh found himself spending long periods of the day coming up with ways to put and keep a smile on Sonata's face. From his own estimation, he was rather good at it.

With the whole farm snowed in, and a blizzard raging outside, McIntosh couldn't even tend to the farm—not that there was much he could do. Nine days it lasted, and then the sun broke through the clouds and revealed the extent of the work to come.

Just after dawn on that day, McIntosh was looking out the window into the white-rimed orchard closest to the house.

"Looks like a lot of work ahead of you."

"Eeyup. Gotta clear out the snow around the trees and trim back any broken branches. Clear out the paths, too, and find where the storm blew everything." Feeling Sonata press herself against his back, her cheek resting against his shoulder, reminded him of why he worked.

"Sounds like a good, hearty breakfast is in order. Let me get you some coffee and I'll make some scramble up."

McIntosh didn't sit around, though. He made the coffee for both of them while Sonata cooked breakfast. The smell of sizzling eggs and something spicy warmed his blood in ways the coffee couldn't.

Sipping at his coffee, standing with his rump leaning against the kitchen bench, he watched Sonata move around the kitchen like she owned it—which as far as he was concerned, she kinda did.

"What's on your mind?"

Shaking his head, McIntosh looked up from his point of interest to see a big smirk on Sonata's face. Her smile was like candy to him. "You, of course."

"Here. Eat this."

Taking a plate with two slices of toast and a pile of egg on each, McIntosh noticed the flecks of red through the eggs—his only warning of the spice within. Each mouthful was like a fire stoking in his mouth. He'd never been big on spicy food before, but that was before he'd learned that something could be both spicy and delicious. "'S good. Hot."

"There's a lot of work to do. Do you need help?"

"But you—"

"No buts. Just this once let me help."

McIntosh watched her start to eat her own scrambled eggs and decided to think on it. As he ate, he could remember not just their first time together, but almost every time since when she'd betrayed her real strength. Scooping the last of the egg onto a small square of toast, he held it up to his tingling lips. "Alright," he said before having the last mouthful.

Together—McIntosh in his jeans and shirt, Sonata in a warm dress—the pair began to set the farm back to rights. They cleared snow from around the orchard, cut back the branches that had broken, and even had time here and there to catch a kiss. When they returned to the farmhouse, it was to find Granny Smith sitting at the table with a huge grin on her face.

"Well, well, well."

McIntosh felt panic grow at the wicked grin on his granny's face. A hand on his back broke the spell, however, and encouraged him to put his own around Sonata's shoulders to pull her against him. It'd been such a common thing over the previous days that he'd done it automatically.

"Good," Granny said. "He treating' you right?"

"Mmhmm!" Sonata leaned up to kiss a stunned McIntosh on the cheek before she let go of him and sailed across the room to the stove—his eyes glued to her every movement.

"I'll make us some lunch. Anything in particular you two'd like?" Sonata asked.

Before McIntosh could answer, Granny Smith said—with twinkling eyes—"Great-grandkids."

"Aww, you know that one's going to be a hard call. Not being fully human doesn't help."

McIntosh finally got his voice under control. "Jus' something hot and filling, please?" Sonata's look back at him made McIntosh blush anew—Granny's laughter nearly floored him.





In all, it took nearly a week to clean up after the snowstorm, but each day McIntosh had headed out, Sonata had left the house at his side. It was the only reason it was done so quickly. On and off over winter, more snow storms took their toll and froze up the road leading to Sweet Apple Acres. Somehow, each time, Granny Smith, Applejack, and Apple Bloom all managed to find a way to stay in the city with friends.

After three whole months of dealing with the terrible weather, Spring finally broke the cycle of snowstorms and cleaning up after them. It also marked the start of even more work.

So, as McIntosh and Sonata relaxed on a couch together after a long day—her airing out and cleaning the house and him working the farm—Sonata turned to McIntosh with a serious look on her face.

"McIntosh?"

"Hrmm?" Warmth combined with snuggling his lover was a sure-fire way to relax McIntosh Apple and slow his thought processes. The worry in her voice, though, drew his full attention.

"I—I need to ask you something, and you have every right to say no." With no input from McIntosh, Sonata continued. "It isn't really lying, but I have avoided bringing one thing up. I'm—I'm not straight."

"Seems pretty straight when I"—McIntosh leaned a little closer and pressed his lips to Sonata's ear—"when we make love."

"That's it though. I like guys—I love you—but you can't give me one thing."

Panic made McIntosh tremble. "Y-Y-You don't want—" A blue finger on his lips silenced him.

"You're not a girl, McIntosh. I'm omnivorous. I like girls too."

It took a bit for McIntosh to catch up with her logic. "So you're not breaking up?"

"Never. I'm just asking if I could find a girl." Once more she silenced him with her finger. "It wouldn't be often, and it would just be physical. I love the way you make me feel, but there's an emptiness that—"

Reaching his hand up, McIntosh pulled Sonata's finger away. "Y-You just want—a girlfriend?" At her nod, McIntosh had to really search his feelings.

She'd told him he could say no, but if there was one thing he held important to his heart it was how Sonata felt. She was being honest and clear, and he owed it to her to trust her. "Just a girl?"

"You're kidding, right? I have all the stud I can handle." The way Sonata said it spoke volumes about what she thought of McIntosh. "I just—I'd like that one thing you can't give me."

"And it'd only be physical?" he asked.

"I might not even find anyone who'd be okay with it."

Taking a deep breath, McIntosh leaned his head against Sonata's shoulder. "Then look. Tell me if you find someone, but—but I don't want to know who it is."





It reached early summer before Sonata finally said the words McIntosh had been expecting. She cuddled up in his bed, her soft flesh pressed to his, and said, "I found someone."

It made him stiffen. He knew exactly what she meant. "Is she pretty?"

"By traditional scales? No. She has the most amazing heart, and I know she'd never hurt me."

Sonata's sigh put a smile on McIntosh's face and banished a little of his tension. "Is she hot?"

"I am totally not going to compare her to you. You're entirely different people. I'm still your girl, though."

Groaning as her warm hand went searching down his body, McIntosh found it easy to forget the news as she guided his growing length to her entrance.

If anything, over the following weeks, McIntosh found Sonata even more excitable in bed. It was like her libido had climbed to the top of a mountain only to find another—bigger—mountain to scale. Like their first time together, every time he found himself being left to play catch-up.

He'd been scared that if she found the right girl, she'd stop coming to him—but it was almost the exact opposite. One night, after slaking their lusts together, he lay under her and had to use his arms to hold her still. "What's gotten into you?" Sonata's peal of laughter was just what he wanted to hear.

"Right now? You."

"Autumn's coming." Her excitement and squirming did its job on him—as he knew she'd likely planned—and he found himself warming up for more. Rolling her over, McIntosh drew part of the way out of her before driving back in. "And then winter."

"But first"—Sonata moaned out loud—"us."

"You know—what I—mean."

"Three months of downtime where I only have the hottest guy on the planet in my bed. Oh, boohoo."

Sliding a hand up to her chest, McIntosh squeezed, eager to hear more of her moans. "What about her?"

"She'll under—understand."

When he had her cracking up trying to speak, McIntosh knew Sonata was getting close. Stepping up his pace, he hammered himself into her until he felt like he would explode—and then he did, and she did.

Grunting above her like a bull, McIntosh struggled to keep track of where they'd been in the conversation even while his masculine instincts threatened to overwhelm him completely. At last, listening to Sonata's panting groans of pleasure, McIntosh finally managed to ask, "You're sure?"

Sonata pushed at McIntosh's shoulder and rolled him back over so she was atop him. He knew it was her favorite place, and he had to admit she looked good there.

"She's not the one I come home to. She's not the one who I spend long evenings just cuddling with. She's definitely not the one who fucks me so hard that I forget about the rest of the world."

Reaching down to Sonata's hips, McIntosh pushed them down so he was hilted deep in her, then he ran his hands up and down her back in a slow massage. "I trust you, Sonata."





Autumn was colder than usual. All of Canterlot got snowed in before it was even over, and it left McIntosh and Sonata with a plus one of Applejack.

"Can't believe they shut the college down and everything."

Applejack didn't sound happy, but McIntosh noticed a smile pulling at her lips. What felt odd, though, was doing things with Sonata with his little sister around. Even the idea of having sex in the house while she was there made him nervous—not that he could think why. "Well, you could help around the farm until they open again?"

"Ya know what, that's not such a bad idea. Sometimes it feels like I'm losing touch with this place. Between college and summer break with friends, I kinda just—just miss spending days out tending to the apple trees."

McIntosh knew that feeling. He loved nothing more than walking through the orchards and listening to the soft creak of the wood as it grew. "Well, it's not exactly a great time to be growing the trees, but we can protect them all winter."

The snow fell for three days, causing the trio to be locked inside for the duration—though not quite. McIntosh slipped out to the barn with Sonata to literally roll in the hay together. It was his compromise to not freak his sister out. He could deal with her not knowing they were an item right up until a possible wedding.

When the sky cleared, the work began. All three were working out in the snow to clear it and check the trees. With two sets of hands the work had gone fast, with three it was faster still.

"Mac?" Sonata called. "I'll head inside and get lunch ready. Give me an hour to make something hot!"

Looking up from his work, McIntosh saw Sonata in her dress looking at him. "Eeyup!" he called, watching her turn toward the house. Returning to his work, he lost track of time and an hour turned to two. It was only when he noticed the sun had moved from overhead toward the west that he realized he was late for lunch.

He marched back to the house, wondering why Sonata hadn't called out to him. McIntosh reached for the door and opened it, then froze. It took his brain several seconds to make sense of what he was seeing.

Applejack had her hips planted against Sonata's, pressing her against the bench with Sonata's dress unzipped and pulled down below her chest. Both of them seemed busy, but as McIntosh stood there they turned their heads to him as one.

"M-M-Mac!" Applejack said. "We were—"

Watching his sister try to back up from Sonata—only to fail because she was still clutching his girlfriend's breasts—finally broke McIntosh of his silence. "What in blue blazes is going' on?!"

"What do you mean, Big Mac?! Are ya blind? I was making out with my girlfriend!"

Applejack's words confused McIntosh. Reaching back to the door behind him, he started to slam it before he remembered the last time he'd done that and earned a telling-off from Granny Smith. "Now listen here, we've been together for a year now. How can—?"

"Stop! Both of you! This is all my fault." Sonata stomped over and stood between McIntosh and Applejack, making herself the center of attention. "Applejack, I explained I was already with a guy."

The gears turned faster for McIntosh than for his sister, or so he realized. He looked at Sonata and quirked an eyebrow in question—and got a nod back from her. "I'm sorry if I was interrupting."

"Wait."

At Applejack's word, McIntosh stopped his plan of walking down the hall to the living room.

"What you said," Applejack pointed at McIntosh, "and what you said," she jabbed another finger at Sonata, "only makes sense if McIntosh is your—"

"He is." "I am."

Applejack's confused stare between McIntosh and Sonata almost had him smiling. "It's okay, AJ." McIntosh was trying to work out what to say or do, but he just couldn't find the words to carry across that he was mostly okay with it.

"Sit down, Big Mac, we need to talk," Applejack said. "Because I'm still not exactly sure what y'all mean, but it's starting to become clear that what I thought was happening isn't."

Sonata was the first to walk to the table. She sat down at the end of it and reached out to shove the seats on each side of her back. "Sit down, then, but at least grab your lunch from the oven, McIntosh."

Ignoring Applejack's confused stare, McIntosh walked to the oven and opened it. It wasn't blazing hot—just warm enough to keep a burrito from getting cold. Pulling out the hot plate and ignoring the heat, he walked back over to the table and sat down opposite his sister.

"Okay. Let's get to brass tax here." Sonata looked at Applejack. "I started, well, dating McIntosh a year ago. All winter we were stuck together in the house, and it seemed right. He's the most amazing man I've ever met—caring, kind, and understanding.

"He even understood and listened to me when I told him I'd like to have a female lover on the side. He agreed to that."

McIntosh picked up his burrito and listened to Sonata's description of their relationship. It reminded him how special she was that the other girl had never gotten in the way of their love. When Applejack looked at him, he nodded and cleared his mouth. "Eeyup."

"So you're cool with this?"

Looking up at his sister, McIntosh let out a sigh. "I wasn't. Not at first. Even when I said yes, I still felt—possessive. But you know what I realized, after she'd started? I realized that I don't own her. The reason I welcomed her onto the farm in the first place was to help her and see her smile just a little more. That hasn't changed. Only odd thing about it, really, is that now I know who she's—uh—dating."

"You really didn't know?"

McIntosh shook his head. "I didn't feel like it was my business."

"But you're dating her! You're—You've been together for a year! You deserve to be able to—to—" Applejack sat down in her seat. "What I don't get is why you didn't tell me?"

"Who, me?" Sonata and McIntosh said at the same time, then laughed.

"I didn't tell you it was McIntosh because you didn't ask," Sonata said.

McIntosh nodded to that. "And I didn't tell you because—uh—I mean—I thought you didn't like Sonata." He watched as Sonata's hand snaked across to Applejack's, and Applejack held it. "Guess I was wrong."

"I'm not even out of the closet with my friends, let alone my family. I feel like—I feel like a big fat liar sometimes."

And at that moment McIntosh realized that he'd never even thought of his sister's sexuality. He'd never wondered if she'd bring home a boyfriend or girlfriend. "You like girls, then?"

"Y-Yeah. It's not like I like every girl, but some are just—"

"Sonata," McIntosh said. He watched as Applejack's attention turned from him to where Sonata held her hand. "Can't say as I blame you."

Applejack barked a laugh and shook her head. "Never thought I'd be coming out like this. It's—It feels good."

"Granny probably knows already." McIntosh took a bite of his burrito, silencing himself.

"She knew McIntosh and I were sleeping together."

Applejack nodded. "She has ways of finding things out even if they aren't spoken about. Do you think she knows about us?"

"I wouldn't put it past her," Sonata said. "She's nice, though. Why would you be worried?"

"Granny Smith is"—Applejack took a deep breath, then slowly let it out—"a gossip. If she knows, everyone in the city knows. If she suspects, everyone in the city knows."

"Oh. So if she knows about this…?"

"I don't know, sugarcube."

Eating away at his burrito, McIntosh felt like things were going well enough that he could just let Sonata and Applejack talk. He got all the way to the end of it—while his sister and their girlfriend made suggestive little smiles at each other—and stood up. "I better get back to work."

Walking to the sink, he cleaned off his plate, dried it, and put it back on the shelf with the rest of the set before heading to the door.

"Wait, where are you going?" Applejack asked.

Grinning, McIntosh nodded toward Sonata. "Gonna give you two some space to talk and figure things out." He left the house, closing the door with Sonata's laughter ringing in his ears. There was more work to be done.





A month of winter passed without much notice. With things so cold, and snowfalls lasting weeks, there was more call than usual for all three to be indoors. At first McIntosh had found it a little awkward to know that Applejack was with Sonata, but it soon just became a fact that though he spent a good bit of time snuggling and cuddling Sonata, Applejack did too.

It was all, in his own estimation, cozy. What was more, Applejack seemed far more relaxed than he'd seen her for a long time—but the real treat was her laughter whenever Sonata said something in her ear.

When the snow stopped for two days in a row, and McIntosh found himself spending long hours outside trying to catch up on work to keep his precious trees safe, he was startled to hear an engine approaching.

McIntosh returned to the house just in time to see Granny Smith climbing down from the passenger seat of a snow plow. "Granny? What are you doing?"

"Get your lazy butt over here, McIntosh Apple, and help me with these presents."

"Presents?" It took McIntosh walking over and lifting the huge sack from the back of the truck to realize what he'd been missing. "Hearths Warming!"

"I figured you three, stuck in this house with nothing else to do, would forget all about Hearth's Warming. Now get inside with these and put the kettle on."

Loaded down with presents, McIntosh had only his imagination as company as he walked up to the house. By the time he managed to get the door open and get inside—only to see Sonata and Applejack kissing—he almost exploded. "It's Granny."

Sonata was the quickest to move. She grabbed Applejack's hips and lifted her off the bench and turned, setting her on a seat and surprising McIntosh with her grace. He had to remind himself that she possessed about the same strength as him.

"Lips!" Sonata said, prompting Applejack to wipe borrowed lip gloss from her own lips.

McIntosh only barely set the bag of presents down on the table before Granny Smith came in behind him. "Welcome home, Granny."

"You three think I don't know, but I know."

He watched Granny walk over to the stove, check the water in the kettle, then move it over the heat.

"Baking cookies, are we? Floured down the bench a little too much."

Each of Granny's words sent panic through McIntosh. They'd missed something, he just knew it, and he couldn't work out what it was. "Uh, I dunno, Granny. I was working out in the west orchard all morning."

"Working' in the orchard, eh?"

Granny Smith circled the room, narrow eyes seeming to miss nothing, though McIntosh realized her attention was on Sonata and Applejack. Deciding he could bail at least one of them out of their hell, he stepped around and wrapped both arms around Sonata. "How was the baking?"

"Oh, you know, we'll find out in about ten min—"

"Ah ha!" Grabbing Applejack by the ear, Granny Smith hauled her upright and pointed at her rear. "And if you were out working all morning, and Sonata was the one baking, that means they're Sonata's handprints!"

McIntosh could see that Applejack was in trouble. His sister would never outright lie, and that's what was needed. He whispered, "You gotta help her," only to get a kiss on the cheek.

"Granny, she was just trying to reach the sheet-pans on the top shelf of the cabinet for me," Sonata said. "When I saw she couldn't reach, I helped hold her up."

Dropping Applejack back onto the chair, Granny Smith smiled and closed her eyes. "Oh, well, of course that was it. I'm sure you were helping her reach the sheet-pans on the—You must think I was born yesterday. McIntosh, I know you can be a bit distracted sometimes, but boy, surely you can see that your girl is unfaithful! Those handprints can only be made by someone reaching around from the front."

Looking at Sonata and Applejack, McIntosh took a deep breath and shook his head. "Nnope. I know exactly what's going on." Walking over to stand beside Sonata and Applejack, McIntosh frowned at Granny. "You're being nosy."

"Don't you dare take that tone with me yo—"

"I will take that tone." McIntosh found he couldn't stop himself. It was as if his brain was, for the first time in his life, completely removed from the process of making words. "We've been living here for nearly two months—practically in each other's pockets—and you think we hadn't sorted out our differences? I love Sonata."

"And I love her too." All heads turned to look at Applejack—the two beside her were grinning. "And I mean it. I didn't know if this—this would work. Sonata said it would and Big Mac said it would. One thing I've learned over two months is I should trust both of them a lot more."

"That's how it is, is it?" Granny Smith asked.

"Eeyup," Sonata said.

They all watched Granny open and close her mouth a few times. She seemed like she was ready to make a big deal about something, but each time she looked at any of the three, she stopped. "I don't understand how you kids operate these days. Where's my tea?"





Another three months passed. Winter wheeled into spring, and after the snow had stopped for a whole two weeks the last member of the Apple household returned to Sweet Apple Acres. McIntosh helped her bring her things in from her car.

"How's school been?" McIntosh didn't mind hauling two big suitcases, it was fairly normal (and after seeing what Rarity hauled around when she was staying somewhere, a relief).

"Oh, you know. At least there haven't been any world-destroying disasters like AJ and her friends had to deal with in their final year." Apple Bloom was quiet until they reached the back door of the house. "I heard Sonata was still living here?"

"Eeyup." Opening the door and heading inside, McIntosh had to wonder how Apple Bloom would react to their living arrangements. "She's working on the back orchard today."

McIntosh set Apple Bloom's bags down beside the door and made his way over to the stove. It felt a little odd to not have Sonata waiting for him, but he liked that she enjoyed working in the orchard too.

"I gotta tell you something, Big Mac." Apple Bloom's tone implied importance.

Pouring the hot-enough kettle into a pair of mugs, McIntosh dumped a teabag in each and carried them over to the table. "You can always tell me."

"I've found someone," Apple Bloom said. "And I don't think Applejack will be able to—I mean she's always so—I'm gay."

It really didn't shock McIntosh. Given how much time his littlest sister spent with her female friends, and that he'd never seen her spend more than a minute with a guy—combined with similar revelations with Applejack—he just couldn't find himself shocked at all. "Who's the lucky one? Scootaloo? Sweetie Belle?"

At first Apple Bloom didn't respond. McIntosh had no idea what her emotions were, so gave her time by sipping his tea.

"N-No. None of my friends. It kinda just happened. We were fighting, like usual, she was calling me names, and I gave as good as I got. Then I—we—just looked at each other and it was like a bolt of magic." Apple Bloom sighed. "Diamond. Diamond Tiara."

"And she likes you back?" McIntosh asked, getting a nod out of his sister. "Well, why not invite her over for dinner tonight?" The shocked look he got only encouraged him to raise an eyebrow at her.

"But what if AJ comes home?"

"Something tells me, Apple Bloom, that your sister isn't going to be upset."

"Y-You'll help?"

Unable to stop a laugh from getting loose, McIntosh nodded. "I promise you, if Applejack freaks out, I'll stand up for you. Sonata, too, I bet." For a moment he thought she was going to argue.

"You're the best," Apple Bloom said as the door opened.

Walking into the room, Sonata marched right up to McIntosh and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "You know, I think he is too."