Pinkie and Applejack are too stubborn to not be in love.
A pony is called stubborn when they refuse to change their mind no matter the persuasion against them. A pony is called persistent in hindsight when their refusal turns out to be a wise decision. "Persistence" is nothing more than what they call stubbornness when it turns out to have been for the best all along.
Pinkie Pie and Applejack may or may not be persistent, but they are most definitely stubborn.
~This is my entry forthe winner of TAW's contest for rare ships. FimFic needs more ApplePie.
Applejack considered herself an early riser. She took pride in her ability to greet the first rays of sunrise with a bowl of oats and a mug of warm coffee already in hoof. Most mornings, it wasn't the rooster's crow but the sound of Applejack starting on her morning chores that woke the rest of the household. So it came as a surprise to the orange mare when she awoke to a high-pitched giggle that drifted up to her room from downstairs.
Yawning, Applejack glanced out the window. The sky was only just beginning to lighten as dawn approached. A mild breeze whispered through the leafy expanse of orchard that she loved to look over each morning when she got up. A few song birds chirped intermittently, more to test their voices as they emerged from their nests than to sing in earnest. The last hour before dawn carried an almost reverent quietness with it.
Another giggle from below did not seem to pay that reverence any mind. Applejack shook the last bit of sleepiness from her head, frowning as she glanced down at her tangled mane. “Forgot ta take my hair ties out before bed again,” she chided herself, throwing her hooves over the side of the bed. She planned to run a brush through her mane before she started the day, but first Applejack wanted to find out who was making all the ruckus so early in the morning. She grabbed her hat off the nightstand and quietly slipped down the stairs.
“Hehe! The lil' legs tickle!” Applejack heard her little sister squeak in amusement as she marched down the wooden steps.
A familiar voice replied to her. “Then, if you poke 'em, they roll up into a ball. But you can only find them before it gets light. They go and hide under rocks in the daytime.”
“Pinkie?” Applejack asked as she peered around the corner that led out the front door of the farmhouse. Ponyville's pinkest baker sat outside on the porch with Apple Bloom, rolling a pill bug around with her nose.
A smile bright as sunrise crossed Pinkie Pie's face as she looked up. “Good morning, Applejack!” she greeted.
“Mornin',” the farm mare responded automatically. “Whatcha doin' out here so early, Pinkie?”
Her little sister hopped up excitedly. “Pinkie's teachin' me 'bout pill bugs! They're real neat! Wanna see?” Apple Bloom held out a hoof that did not have a pill bug on it. Frowning in confusion, the filly started twisting around in search of the creature.
Applejack let out a quiet chuckle. “How in tarnation didja manage ta get her up so early? I have ta drag that filly outa bed with a rope just ta get her to school on time!”
Pinkie giggled. “I told her she might get her cutie mark.”
“Twilight says bug-studyin' is called 'enta-malology,' ” said Apple Bloom, lifting up the welcome mat to peer underneath. “That sounds like a mouthful to say if somepony asks what my special talent is, but a rolled-up pill bug would be an awful neat cutie mark.” She dropped the welcome mat back down. “Now where'd he go?”
“I found him!” Pinkie Pie balanced the pill bug on the tip of her muzzle. With a flick of her head, she bounced it off her knee and over to Apple Bloom. “Now that you're up, Applejack, I can get to the other reason I'm over here.”
Applejack blinked. “Oh? What's that?”
“I want you to come fishing with me!” Pinkie puffed her chest out and nodded.
“Fishin'?” the orange mare repeated. “Pinkie, we're ponies. We don't eat fish.”
“The fish aren't for us, silly! They're for Fluttershy!”
Pinkie giggled. “Okay, they're actually for Fluttershy's friend, Mr. Bearington.”
Applejack paused and thought a moment. “I'm guessin' Mr. Bearington is a bear.”
The pink mare nodded. “Yeppers! He's a big grizzly bear, and he's got a fever, so he can't catch any fish for himself, so Fluttershy asked me if I could catch some fish for him.” She took a breath. “And so I thought, 'This sounds like something fun I could do with Applejack!' So I decided I would come out here first thing in the morning, but I was too excited so I showed up early and I taught Apple Bloom how to find pill bugs!”
Applejack scratched the back of her head. “Uh, sure, Pinkie, that sounds like fun. I got a few chores ta get done around here, an' then I'll come with ya to the stream. 'S that alright?”
Judging from the way Pinkie was bouncing, it was more than alright. “Okie dokie! Oh, I can't wait, I'm so excited! This is going to be the bestest date ever!”
Applejack's eyebrows rose. “Uh, date?”
“Well yeah! That's what it's called when two ponies that love each other super duper extra much go and do something special and fun together!”
The gears in the apple-farmer's head started spinning. Pinkie had seemed to show up at Sweet Apple Acres more often recently. Now that she thought of it, Applejack could not think of a single week in the last few months that Pinkie had not been over to help bake pies, or invite Applejack to parties that none of their other friends had made it to, or just to hang around. The pink mare had seemed extra friendly lately, but Applejack had not paid it much attention. Pinkie was a friendly pony, after all.
Applejack's eyes drifted down to her little sister, who was still playing with her little friend. “Hey Apple Bloom, why don'tcha go make yourself some breakfast before it's time for school?”
“Aw, but I'm havin' fun right here,” she complained. “I can jus' have an apple on the walk over.”
“Sis, give the little fella a break. Rollin' around like that, he's probably dizzier than a skeeter on a salt lick.”
Apple Bloom pouted her lip out, but she let the pill bug down onto the ground, where it promptly unrolled and skittered toward the nearest rock.
Applejack watched as her sister shut the door, leaving the two mares outside. “I got some things ta put away around the barn,” she said, turning to Pinkie. “Ya wanna come walk with me?”
Pinkie nodded enthusiastically and bounced along behind as Applejack led her to the barn. “Anything for my super special somepony!”
The sun began to crest over the mountains as the two ponies reached the old farm structure. Applejack rounded about to face her friend directly. “Listen, Pinkie...”
*-*-*Applejack*-*-*
“I don't love ya. Not in that way. I'm sorry.”
Honesty was not a nice virtue. Honesty tore down dreams and stomped on hearts. It was the rising tide that toppled sand castles little foals had spent all day building. Not for the first time, Applejack wished she were able to pretend the truth was something other than it was. She wished she could smile wide and wrap her hooves around her friend, and say, 'I feel the same way, sugarcube.' She wished she did not have to watch as something broke like glass behind a pair of watery blue eyes.
When Pinkie Pie finally spoke, she did so softly that Applejack could have sworn it was Fluttershy's voice coming from her throat. “I know.” There was no comic deflation of the pink mare's bouncy mane. Her posture did not slump as though a sack of bricks had landed on her. The only visible change was a tiny quiver in the corners of her mouth and eyes.
An unexpected breeze made the farm pony shiver despite the warm morning sun heating the back of her neck. Though autumn had only just begun, the warm days were quickly running out and the specter of winter clung to the wind as a subtle chill. The rusted hinges of the barn door behind them groaned as the breeze pushed it open. In spite of herself, some part in the back of Applejack's mind added 'oil hinges' to her to-do list.
Pinkie shook her head vigorously, as though she could dislodge the look of disappointment from her face by physically brushing it off. Strangely enough, it even appeared to work, since when she stopped moving her head a bright, face-splitting grin stretched from one ear to the other. A giggle erupted from her that could only be described as Pinkie. “Well, come on! We don't wanna be late!”
Applejack sighed. “Pinkie, I just told you I—”
“You said you don't love me,” said Pinkie, as matter-of-factly as she might say that they were standing on grass, or that Twilight was a librarian. “You never said you didn't want to go fishing. Come on, let's go!” She pushed on Applejack's shoulders with both her front hooves.
“Sugar, I don't think—”
“Fluttershy said she was too busy overseeing the butterfly migration to feed Mr. Bearington. If we don't catch fish for him, he'll go hungry!” The baker looked at Applejack with pleading eyes.
The orange mare stiffened her legs, digging her hooves into the soft grass before finally relenting, letting her friend push her forward. “Okay, Pinks. For Mr. Bearington.” Pinkie's ploy was transparent, appealing to her sense of duty like that. Applejack did not like being manipulated, especially when she knew it was only going to hurt Pinkie more in the long run. But she knew she was not going to get anything done around the farm today until she helped her friend catch some fish.
*-*-*Pinkie*-*-*
“I don't love ya. Not in that way. I'm sorry.”
Pinkie Pie saw Applejack's lips moving before she truly heard the words. Perhaps she thought if she smiled wide enough, the sound would never reach her ears, and she could go on believing that the beautiful orange mare in front of her was saying something else—anything other than what she was saying. 'I sure am thirsty,' she imagined Applejack saying, 'let's go on inside an' get some water.' Or hay, while she was imagining things, 'Shucks, Pinkie, I love you too.' If she squinted, she could almost match the lip movements.
But though Pinkamena Diane Pie was capable of many things, freezing words in midair was beyond her powers. The words stung like only the truth could. And she knew they were the truth before she heard them. Before they were even spoken. Before she had even asked. “I know,” she said. It was all she could say. She had known from the beginning that it was nothing more than a silly fantasy.
A cold, hollow fear took hold in Pinkie's chest. It was all backwards. She was not supposed to feel afraid now that she had already lost something that she had, in fact, never had. Depression, that kind of emotion would have been appropriate for the situation. Disappointment that her love would go unrequited. Gratitude, even, that her friend was good enough not to lead her on. But instead, Pinkie's skull buzzed with blind, flailing panic. Icy needles jabbed at her heart from every direction, and her only thought was how to make the pain stop, if only for a moment.
She did what she had always been taught to do in the face of fear. She laughed. “Well, come on!” Pinkie heard herself say, “We don't wanna be late!”
Pinkie Pie watched Applejack's brows furrow in concern. “Pinkie, I just told you I—” No. Nononono, stop!
“You said you don't love me,” Pinkie interrupted. It ripped her insides apart to say it out loud, but it was better than listening to Applejack say it again. So long as Pinkie said it herself, it could be just another one of the silly things that came out of her mouth for no real reason. 'Chimicherrychangas.' 'Pickle barrels.' 'Applejack doesn't love me.' 'Kumquats.' “You never said you didn't want to go fishing. Come on, let's go!” She pushed her friend in the direction of the stream. It was more an expressive gesture than an attempt to physically move the mare. Pinkie could be surprisingly strong when it was called for, but it would take ten of her to make Applejack go somewhere she did not want to go.
“Sugar, I don't think—”
“Fluttershy said she was too busy overseeing the butterfly migration to feed Mr. Bearington. If we don't catch fish for him, he'll go hungry!” There was no reason Mr. Bearington should have to suffer just because Pinkie did not get her way.
Applejack squared her jaw. For a moment, she looked angry. Pinkie winced, but continued pushing on her shoulder all the same. Finally, the farm pony sighed and took a step toward the road. “Okay, Pinks. For Mr. Bearington.”
Pinkie Pie was not stupid. There was perhaps a case to be made for crazy, but she was clever enough to recognize when she was hurting herself. She knew it would be better—healthier for her to let herself have a cry about it and move on. There would be other ponies out there that could make her smile the way AJ did. Almost the way AJ did. There would be other ponies out there that were as kind and dependable as AJ was. Almost as kind and dependable as AJ was. And though it felt like heresy to even think it, there would be other ponies out there that were as good-looking as AJ. Almost as good-looking as AJ. Maybe half as good-looking as AJ.
But a special sort of stubbornness ran deep in Pinkie's blood. It was the sort of stubbornness that drove a stallion named Clyde Pie to plant rocks in a field and watch for them to grow. It was the sort of stubbornness that led the earth pony tribe on a long trek across wintery wastes with nothing but empty canteens and incomplete maps to settle in a far off land they would eventually call Equestria. It was the sort of stubbornness that caused the first starving farmers to dig a hole, throw seeds in it, dump water on it, then wait to see what would happen. Earth pony stubbornness huddled in Pinkie Pie's bones, snapping and growling at anyone that told it it should move somewhere else, and it would not let her give up on Applejack.
The baker bounded along the road, humming tunelessly and keeping her pace slow enough for the orange mare behind her to keep up. Applejack doesn't love me... yet.
*-*-*Applejack*-*-*
The cool stream water felt good on Applejack's legs. The constant push of the current tugged at her fetlocks as she stood watching for fish. Dappled shadows cast by a grove of trees mottled the waters, leaving spaces of dark and light among the muddy bottom for them to hide in. Her green eyes narrowed as she spotted movement against the current. Next to a bank of stones ground smooth by the moving waters was a fat old trout beating its tail against the stream.
She took a slow, deliberate step forward, careful not to disturb the water too much. The trout continued obliviously. Applejack set her teeth in a determined grimace, readying her rear legs to push off in a pounce. “Gotcha!” she shouted, leaping forward in a wet splash. A fishy tail squirmed between her forehooves, slapping her in the snout before disappearing into the stream with a sploosh.
Applejack spat stream water out of her mouth. “There's gotta be a better way ta do this,” she complained.
Downstream, Pinkie Pie whipped a mottled gray fish out of the brook, adding it to a growing pile on the bank. “You gotta move with the water,” she advised.
Applejack scratched the back of her head. “How many fish do we gotta catch, anyway?” She did not understand why anything would want to actually eat these things. They were slimy, they smelled bad, and judging from the taste they left in her mouth the few times she had managed to get a hold on the slippery varmints, they had nothing on apples where flavor was concerned.
“Mr. Bearington is a pretty big bear,” Pinkie said, hovering her muzzle over the surface of the water. She tensed as though ready to strike, but relaxed again. “So, you're interested in stallions, is that it?”
The orange mare frowned. With the distraction of the fish, she had started to believe the subject had been dropped. “Not that it's anypony's business which way my tail swings, but no, that ain't it. I ain't particularly opposed ta relations with other mares.” She ducked her head into the stream, partially because she spotted a fish, but also partially to cool her rapidly heating cheeks.
Applejack tried to follow her friend's advice, moving with the current. The fish bolted, but she anticipated the movement, closing her teeth around its dorsal fin. She jerked her head out of the water, and to her mild surprise, the fish came with her. Flecks of slimy fish taste seeped into Applejack's mouth as the trout flopped in her grip.
Her triumphant grin was met with an uncharacteristically serious look on Pinkie Pie's face. “What is the reason, then?” the pink mare asked.
The fish dropped out of Applejack's jaws, splashing loudly back into the stream. “Damn it, Pinkie, why you gotta ask questions ya know ya won't like hearin' the answer to?” she shouted.
Pinkie fell back on her haunches as though physically struck. Water soaked her mane, dragging it down with gravity in a tangled mess. As colorful as her language sometimes got, Applejack almost never truly swore.
The apple farmer huffed and turned her attention to the muddy stream bed. The fish were nowhere to be seen; all the noise had scared them away. Applejack's shoulders sagged. “It ain't a question of attraction, if that's what ya think, sugar. Yer a mighty fine lookin' mare. I just don't see us workin' out in the long run.” She spoke so softly that she was not sure Pinkie actually could hear her. But her friend did not ask her to repeat herself or speak up, so she continued. “You're a lot of fun, Pinkie. An' Celestia knows I need to let myself have fun more often. But I can't afford ta have fun all the time. I got responsibilities, but more'n that, I just don't think I'd be able to keep up. Smilin' muscles get tired after a while.”
The brook babbled along, utterly oblivious to the brooding silence that hung between the two earth ponies. Applejack kept her gaze fixed on the stream bed as though looking for more fish, but it was obvious that even if a fish had jumped into her hat she would not have been paying enough attention to catch it.
Pinkie sniffed once and dragged her hooves up onto the muddy bank. “This is—” her voice cracked and she stopped to take a breath. She began again in a lower, slower tone. “This is probably enough fish to last Mr. Bearington for a while.” The pink mare unrolled a blanket and began piling the morning's catch onto it.
Applejack sighed and trudged to the shore. She took a moment to shake the excess water off herself before approaching near enough to put a hoof on Pinkie's shoulder. Pinkie froze, a fish dropping out of her mouth and flopping on the grass. “Hey,” Applejack said. When Pinkie did not turn to face her, the farmer moved herself to look her friend in the eyes. “You an' me are always gonna be the best a' friends, ya hear? Celestia's sun can burn clean out, ain't nothin' gonna change that between us. Just 'cause I ain't interested in pursuin' that kinda relationship don't mean there's anythin' in this world you can't come to me about. You understand?”
Pinkie nodded slowly. “Yeah, AJ, I understand. You're a good—” she paused, her eyes watering. She pushed a smile onto her face. “—a good friend.”
Applejack drew Pinkie Pie into a hug. The soggy pink mane soaked the side of her face as she patted her friend's back with a foreleg. She could feel Pinkie's pulse racing with the contact. “There ya go. Now, c'mon. Let's get these fish gathered up. I used ta think pigs smelled bad, but these things...”
The pink baker giggled softly. “They aren't exactly fresh cookies, are they?”
“I reckon that ol' bear's sick 'cause he eats nasty ol' things like this,” laughed Applejack as she nipped a trout by the tail and tossed it onto the blanket. Within a few minutes they bundled all the fish up into a neat pouch which Pinkie slung across her back.
“I'm gonna take these to Fluttershy's cottage, then. You wanna come with, AJ?”
Applejack shook her head. “I still got farm work to do, sugar.” Her stomach growled, reminding her that she never did get around to eating breakfast. “An' a powerful need to get somethin' in my mouth that don't taste like fish,” she added. “Tell Fluttershy I said hello.”
Pinkie Pie giggled, a bit more loudly this time. “Okay. I'll see you later, Applejack!”
“Yup! Later, Pinkie!”
*-*-*Fluttershy*-*-*
The butterfly migration had gone even better than Fluttershy had expected. Her special talent was of course handling animals, but she found butterflies to be even more cooperative for her than most woodland creatures were. All it took for her was a few gentle words, and the colorful swarm would obligingly divert away from the high-speed air route that the pegasus mail service used. A nod and some encouragement would steer the butterflies toward a field of flowers that Roseluck had requested to be pollinated as the migration passed by Ponyville. Even the tourists that showed up each year with their cameras to witness the spectacle had been especially well-behaved this season, though the flash photography still made Fluttershy nervous.
By the time the migration had left Ponyville, Fluttershy still had much more of her day left to her than she had anticipated. More than enough time to head back and check on Mr. Bearington. As she made her way home, she wondered to herself how Pinkie was doing catching fish for the poor bear. Most ponies did not understand the dietary needs of an omnivore like Mr. Bearington, and Fluttershy hoped Pinkie would not try to feed him cupcakes or something.
The yellow pegasus shook her head and smiled. As silly as Pinkie sometimes was, Fluttershy trusted her to get fish like the bear needed. Plus, with this extra time she now had to care for him, Mr. Bearington would surely be back on his paws in no time. Today was shaping up to be a very good day.
...Or not. Finding a friend sitting dejectedly in front of her home, sobbing into a sack of fish was not a situation Fluttershy encountered very often, but she knew it was not a thing that happened on good days. The pegasus' ears drooped as she made her way up the hill to her front door. “Pinkie?”
The distressed mare looked up, her eyes red and puffy. She made a pathetic attempt at a smile. “Oh, hi Fluttershy,” she said, her voice raspy and ragged. The effort she put into making it sound cheerful just made her sound even more forlorn.
Fluttershy's wings twitched in concern. Her instinctive reaction to any kind of unhappiness was to flee or hide, and she had to consciously remind herself that there was a friend in front of her that needed comfort. “What's wrong?” she asked, slowly shrugging off her saddlebags.
Pinkie sniffed. “The door was locked.”
Fluttershy tilted her head and frowned. Nopony—Pinkie Pie especially—bawled like that over a locked door. Especially considering Fluttershy had witnessed Pinkie, on more than one occasion, get into a locked room without any trouble at all. “I'm sorry,” she said, fishing her keys out of her saddlebags. “I thought you would be out longer fishing.”
A dam broke in both Pinkie's voice and her tear ducts. “I've been baking pies with Applejack,” she gurgled, “and swimming with her and inviting her to two-pony parties, and it was really super fun, and I really, really liked spending time with her, and then I realized that it wasn't the pies or the swimming or the parties that I liked, I liked her, and then I realized that I didn't just like her, I really, really liked her, and so this morning I told her that I love her and she told me that she doesn't love me back, not in that way, but she still helped me catch fish for Mr. Bearington because she's really, really nice, but I'm still sad because I thought she might love me back, but I thought I could at least bring Mr. Bearington his fish so he doesn't go hungry, so I brought the fish but the door was locked so now all I am is a silly pony with a locked door, a broken heart, and a sack full of fish!” Pinkie took a deep breath before breaking out into a fresh round of wet sobs.
Fluttershy blinked, her key ring hanging from her mouth. She coughed a bit at the metallic taste. “Um, well, I can fix the door,” she offered, inserting the key into the lock. The door swung open with a soft creak. “Why don't you come inside, Pinkie? If you want, that is. I'll check on Mr. Bearington's fever and then we can put on some tea and talk about it. Is that okay?”
Pinkie Pie nodded and dragged the blanket full of fish inside with her. The living room was the only room in the cottage big enough to keep a bear in. A mountain of rough brown fur rose and fell with the bear's breath in the far corner of the room, blocking most of the light from the window behind him.
“How is my beary-weary feeling today?” the pegasus cooed, flapping her wings to get a good angle to press her hooves against the animal's hide to feel for a temperature and a pulse. The bear's fever did not seem any better than yesterday, but at least his pulse was steady. He let out a low groan. Fluttershy fluttered over to the bag of fish, pulling a fat trout out by the tail. “I hab' a speshl' treat por you,” she said through her teeth. She slipped the fish into the waiting paws of Mr. Bearington, who began to suckle on it like a lollipop.
Fluttershy smiled tenderly at her charge before dragging the rest of the fish into her freezer. Most of the food in there was for her animals, not for her. The few vegetables she set aside for herself were dwarfed by the sacks of birdseed, nuts, berries, and occasional bits of meat she kept on hoof to feed her woodland friends. She shut the door to the freezer and trotted over to fetch a kettle from her cupboard.
She found Pinkie staring blankly at the table while the water heated on the stove. It worried the canary pegasus to see her typically exuberant friend so down. Fluttershy did not think herself the best candidate for the job of cheering the party pony up. Twilight was smart, and she had spent the last two years studying friendships; she would know what to do here. Rarity knew all about romance and social graces; she would know what to say to Pinkie. Fluttershy was sorely tempted to suggest to Pinkie that they go and see Rarity, but that would not be fair to her.
She decided to start simple. “Um, thank you for catching those fish, Pinkie.”
The pink mare nodded sullenly, her eyes not leaving the table.
Fluttershy frowned at the silence. She had hoped Pinkie might say something, but it looked like she would have to take the lead in this conversation. “Um... would you like to tell me—oh, my.” The pegasus was interrupted by the high whistle of steam from the kettle. She got up from the table and took the water off the heat. She emerged from the kitchen with a steaming mug of tea balanced carefully on each wing.
Fluttershy set Pinkie's mug on the table and held her own between her hooves, blowing on it gently to cool it. “Would you like to tell me what happened?” she asked, peering over the rim of her mug. “I mean, you don't have to. Just, if you want,” she added.
Pinkie slowly reached out for her tea. Fluttershy winced as she watched the mare take a slurp without letting the scalding drink cool down at all. Pinkie did not seem to be fazed by the heat. “Have you ever been in love, Fluttershy?” The tea at least seemed to be doing her voice some good.
Fluttershy considered the question. She recalled a few foalhood crushes, but they had been brief and fairly unremarkable. She figured she would remember if she had ever felt anything worth calling love. “I don't think so, Pinkie. I'm sorry.” Her wings drooped. Some help she was being for her friend. A minute of silence passed between the two ponies, broken by the labored breaths from the other room. After fidgeting uncomfortably with her mug of tea, Fluttershy tried prodding her again. “Maybe you could start at the beginning?”
Pinkie nodded. “Okay,” she said. “I've been spending a lot of time with Applejack lately...”
<--->Pinkie<--->
Pinkie Pie's left ear was itchy. The response most ponies would have to an itchy left ear would be to scratch it. Some of the more patient types might have ignored the itch and waited for it to go away. Pinkie Pie was not most ponies, and 'patient' was not at the top of the list of words one would use to describe her. No, Pinkie's reaction to an itchy left ear was to glance across the bakery to the sofa where her employers, landlords and good friends the Cakes sat, curling up against one another after a long day of baking and caring for the foals. The day still was not over, but with Pound and Pumpkin down for a nap and the biggest rush of the day over with, the couple took advantage of their well-earned break.
A wide grin spread across the pink party pony's face. She nosed the cash register shut and hung her apron on a hook by the counter. “I'm gonna go for a walk. I'll be out for a little while. You two lovebirds have fun!” She bounded off for the door.
“How does she always know?” Mrs. Cake whispered at a volume she thought Pinkie could not hear. Mr. Cake simply shrugged and pulled his wife in closer.
The door to Sugarcube Corner shut behind Pinkie, who took a deep breath of the late afternoon air. Her lips smacked on the fresh moisture left in the atmosphere from the light drizzle the pegasi had arranged earlier in the day. The cobbled streets were spotted with sunlight as the weatherponies flitted about clearing the rainclouds from the sky.
Pinkie wore a bright smile as Ponyville clopped beneath her hooves. She had a whole town full of friends to greet. Every smiling face she passed filled her with such glee that she could hardly keep her hooves on the ground, instead bouncing along like a spring.
“Hiya, Lyra! What's goin' on, Bon Bon?” A teal unicorn and a cream earth pony looked up from their table as Pinkie waved at them. “Whatca up to?”
“Oh, hi Pinkie Pie,” said Lyra. “Bonnie's having me try out some of her new chocolates. They're really good!”
Pinkie bounced excitedly. “Ooh, can I try one?”
Bon Bon's eyes widened and she put out a hoof to stop the pink baker. “Actually... they're kinda special chocolates.”
Pinkie Pie noticed the half-lidded stare Lyra was giving the cream-colored mare. She nodded and gave Bon Bon a knowing wink. “Ohh, I gotcha. You two have a good day!” Pinkie bounded off before her ear had a chance to start itching again.
The wide branches of the tree that housed the Ponyville library came into view. Visiting Twilight was always good for some fun. Maybe she would get to wear the hat in the basement with all the blinking lights again. Pinkie happily twisted the doorknob in her mouth and stepped inside.
Spike stood in front of a mirror, fidgeting with a jewel-studded bowtie. “Twilight,” he shouted, “Is this the bowtie Rarity gave to me, or the one she gave to Owlowicious?”
“If you kept your closet clean, that wouldn't be a mystery,” came Twilight's chiding reply from upstairs. After a minute she appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a lace-trimmed saddle and half-applied makeup. “It's probably yours, Spike. Owlowicious keeps his in the top shelf of the dresser. Oh, Pinkie! I didn't hear you come in!”
Spike continued to fiddle with his bowtie. “Darn thing won't fit,” he grumbled, tugging at it.
Pinkie waved her hoof. “Hi, Twilight! Whatcha dressing up for? Is there a party?”
The librarian shook her head, levitating a compact mirror out of the bathroom to finish her makeup. “Rarity is going to some kind of fashion show. Apparently, it's 'unfashionable' to go to these sorts of things alone, so she asked me to come with.” She jerked her head toward her scaly assistant. “Spike seems to think that because she said he could come along too it makes it a date.”
Spike's cheeks flushed red. “Hey, I can hope, can't I? Besides, even if it isn't one, it can't hurt to just look nice for her.” He growled in frustration trying to adjust his studded bowtie. The little dragon was about to pitch the uncooperative thing on the ground when Twilight's magical aura enveloped it and tied the bow neatly around his neck. He smiled gratefully at his purple benefactor.
“If two friends are fashionable, I bet three friends would make Rarity the most super-fancy fashiontastic pony at the whole show!” Pinkie Pie bounced excitedly. “Not that she isn't already a super-duper fancy fashiontastic fashionista already,” she added as an afterthought.
Twilight's smile dimmed slightly. “I'm sorry, Pinkie, I didn't think to extend the invitation to you. It didn't sound like your kind of thing. Rarity described it to me as, 'a bunch of stuffed shirts coughing politely at one another.' I'm sure she would love to have you along, but there's a guest list, and it's a little too late to make changes...”
Pinkie snorted. “That's okay, Twilight! So long as you have fun, that's what matters!” She winked at Spike. “Good luck on your maybe-sort-of-a-date with Rarity!” Spike blushed profusely as the pink mare turned and cantered back out onto the streets.
Gee, is it Hearts and Hooves Day and I forgot? Pinkie wondered as she watched what seemed like the whole population of Ponyville pair off into twos. Big Mac leaned against the side of the schoolhouse, nodding easily as he listened to Cheerilee talk with him. Ditzy Doo grinned sheepishly at the one brown stallion who was a doctor even though he didn't work at the hospital. Up in the sky, one grayish-lavender pegasus whispered something to a white pegasus, who began blushing furiously.
Pinkie Pie was not certain when her bouncing gait had slowed to a trot. She also was unsure when the streets of Ponyville had become the dirt road to Sweet Apple Acres beneath her hooves. Her ears perked forward as she caught a glimpse of bright orange. “Hi, Applejack!”
“Howdy, Pinkie! What's up?” Applejack sauntered up to lean on her white fence.
“All kinds of things,” remarked Pinkie. “First, I decided to give Mr. and Mrs. Cake some time to themselves since they were getting all cuddly. Then Bon Bon was feeding Lyra some 'special' chocolates. Twilight and Spike are going with Rarity to some kind of fashion thing where ponies cough on each other, and Spike thinks it's maybe sort of kinda a date, but I hope they don't catch a cold from all the coughing! Your brother was talking with Cheerilee, and I think Dashie was out clearing clouds, but I didn't see her.” The pink mare did not stop to take a breath until her cheeks began to turn blue.
Applejack chuckled. “So... yer bored to tears, then?”
“You have no idea!” Pinkie exclaimed.
“Well, I was just thinkin' about bakin' some pies. Ya wanna come on in and help?”
Pinkie's eyes glimmered. “Would I ever!”
<--->Fluttershy<--->
Fluttershy listened carefully as her friend spent the better part of the afternoon talking about her adventures with Applejack, her budding feelings for the farm mare, all the way on up to the events of this morning. The pegasus occasionally needed to stop Pinkie so she could go and check on Mr. Bearington, get him a fresh blanket, or change out the compress strapped to his head, but apart from these interruptions she gave Pinkie her undivided attention. More than once, this attention included patting a hoof on the pink mare's back as she broke into tears.
“Shh, it's okay,” Fluttershy cooed. She furrowed her brow in thought as her friend buried her face into her shoulder. She had even less of an idea of how to help Pinkie now than she had before the pink mare had told her everything. If Applejack did not want that kind of a relationship with Pinkie Pie, nopony was going to change her mind. But Fluttershy could not look at her tear-sodden friend and bear to think of telling her so.
The pegasus opted to try and keep her talking. Maybe Pinkie might work something out for herself if she just kept saying something. “Um, if you don't mind me asking,” Fluttershy licked her lips, carefully choosing her words. “Why Applejack? I mean, she is a really nice pony and all, but, um... sometimes she's a bit serious. Not that serious is bad,” she hastily added, “and not that I'm saying you can't be serious when you want to, but... um.” Fluttershy desperately tried to grasp at the threads of what she had been trying to say.
“I know,” sniffed Pinkie. “She said the same thing this morning.”
Fluttershy remained silent, hoping her friend would continue.
“It's her smile,” Pinkie said, sipping the last of her tea. Fluttershy moved to refill the cup, but the pink mare shook her head. “There's a lot of different smiles out there. There's the determined smirk Dashie gets when she's performing a new trick. There's the triumphant grin Twilight gets when she solves a problem. There's the warm smile you get when you're helping something that's hurt.”
Fluttershy blushed self-consciously.
“But every once in a while, I see Applejack with a smile I've only ever seen once before. Her regular smile is really great, too, it's bright and honest and makes anypony feel welcome. But now and then, when the right things happen, she smiles just the same way my sisters and my mom and dad did at the first party I ever threw. I need to see that kind of smile again.”
Fluttershy thought for a moment. “Well... do you really have to be Applejack's special somepony in order to see her smile?”
Pinkie raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“Um, well, you're very good at making ponies smile,” the pegasus explained, “and you do that just by being their friend. Do you need to be Applejack's fillyfriend in order to make her smile?”
Pinkie rubbed her chin. “Maybe I don't...”
A low complaining moan came from the next room. Fluttershy excused herself to go and check on Mr. Bearington. His fish was chewed down to the bones. “It looks like you're getting your appetite back,” she commented, sweeping up the fish bones to throw in the compost. She retrieved another fish from the freezer. “I think you'll be back to your old self soon.”
When the pegasus returned to the table Pinkie had already stood up. A smile crossed her lips, not quite as wide as Pinkie Pie's standard smile, but genuine all the same. “Thanks for the tea, Fluttershy,” she said, “and for listening.”
“You're going?” Fluttershy asked. “Are you sure you'll be okay?”
“I'll be okay,” she said, taking a few steps for the door. Pinkie stopped as she passed Fluttershy and put a hoof on her back. “Really, thank you.”
Applejack had sincerely meant to put more thought into her situation with Pinkie Pie. Just because she had made her position clear that morning did not mean there would not be any fallout, and she had fully intended to make time to sit down and think about what it would all mean to her and her friends.
But when she had returned to the farm she had found her sister still not ready for school. A flurry of schoolbooks, saddlebags and a lecture about the virtue of punctuality had followed, accompanied by a bracing gallop into town in order to deliver Apple Bloom to her class no later than she already was. By the second time Applejack had returned that morning, her stomach had complained fiercely about her lack of breakfast, threatening to hold her other organs hostage until she sat down and ate something not covered in scales and slime.
Her morning chores had carried on past noon due to the late start she had on them. Oiling the hinges on the barn door required actually finding the can of oil, which had turned out to be empty anyways, prompting yet another trip into town to refill it. Afternoon had already passed its peak when the apple farmer was ready to inspect the south field.
She had hoped to get a chance to do some thinking during her march through the orchard. Most times, inspecting the fields was not a highly challenging task, leaving her free to put together plans or work things out in her head as she examined the apple trees. It only became a complicated job if there was something wrong.
Of course there had been something wrong. About midway through the field Applejack had noticed the telltale signs of beetle larvae. If the bugs were not stopped, Sweet Apple Acres would lose half their harvest when applebuck season came around. The rest of her day, well past sunset, had been spent working with Big Mac to isolate the infested zone and clear the trees that could still be saved. By the time Applejack got into bed, she had been tired enough to fall asleep before her head even touched the pillow.
For that reason, the next day found Applejack answering Pinkie Pie at the door without having had a moment to consider their exchange the previous morning.
“Ya wanna do what, now?”
“I want to take you flying! Twilight is lending me her balloon this afternoon!” The way the pink mare bounced on the porch, Applejack was ready to believe that Pinkie did not need a balloon in order to fly. The grin on her face made the farmer's cheeks hurt just looking at it.
Applejack sighed. “I'm sorry, Pinkie, not today. Applebuck season starts soon, an' I gotta get this place ready for it.”
Pinkie's grin did not dissipate. If anything, it somehow grew even wider. “That's not a problem! I can help you get your chores done and then we can go get the balloon!”
The apple farmer frowned. “Don't you have yer own job? Why ain't ya workin' for the Cakes today?”
“Sick day,” Pinkie replied.
“Well, if yer sick ya shouldn't be out doin' farm work or flyin' about in balloons.” Applejack nudged her way past Pinkie and started for the barn. “Besides, don't ya think ya oughta take a break, y'know, considerin' yesterday?”
There, her smile slipped for an instant, pain flashing across Pinkie's eyes before she redoubled her grin. “No, I'm fine.” Applejack's ears flicked unconsciously at the lie. “Please, let me help you? Just tell me what you need done; we can do it twice as fast together!”
Applejack shook her head, continuing out to the barn. “Ya know I love havin' your help, but I can't have ya takin' sick days from your job to come do mine. If'n yer sick, go on home an' lay down. If yer not sick, then you should go apologize ta Mr. and Mrs. Cake.” She ducked inside the freshly oiled door and emerged with a rickety old wooden applecart. The thing was sound enough for trips to and from town, but it would need some fixing up if it was to be loaded full of fresh-picked apples.
“Aw, but what am I gonna do with a hot-air balloon all by myself?” Pinkie complained as she followed the orange mare out to the barn.
It was difficult to answer with a hammer in her mouth, so Applejack merely shrugged. She took a short breath as she dropped the tool and dug around for some nails. “Maybe Rarity would like ta join ya. Or hey, you could get a good vantage ta watch Rainbow practice her tricks.”
Pinkie crossed her forehooves and pouted. “Dashie naps in the afternoons, and Rarity's been all funny about heights ever since Cloudsdale.”
“Well, I don't know what to tell ya, Pinkie. You'll just have ta make plans without me today.”
The delinquent baker opened her mouth to argue, but seemed to think better of it. A troublesome grin replaced her pout. “Okie dokie lokie!” she chirped, “I'll see you around, Applejack!”
Applejack twisted her head around to peer in confusion as the pink blur disappeared around a bend in the old dirt road leading to the farm. That mare was up to something, of that Applejack was sure. But she was darned if she knew what it was. Shrugging, she refocused her attention on the wagon wheel in front of her. Pinkie or no, she needed to have a sturdy cart for this year's apple harvest. It was going to be a big haul this year, and it would be a real shame to leave fruit to rot on the tree because they had to stop in the middle of applebucking to fix the cart.
Carpentry was not the farm pony's special talent, but neither was she especially inept at it. A few pieces of lumber, a few dozen nails and the rest of the morning were enough to reinforce the old cart into something serviceable for the coming harvest. Applejack wiped her brow, taking a glance at the position of the sun. She let out a disappointed huff as she realized it had taken her longer to finish the cart than she had expected. “I'm gonna have ta skip lunch if I'm gonna get that apple cellar cleaned out,” she grumbled to herself.
The earthy scent of the cellar filled Applejack's nose as she pulled open the door to the underground chamber. It took her eyes a minute to adjust to the darkness down below. “Huh,” she said as the packed earth and stone walls came into focus. The place was immaculate. Jars of preserved jams were arranged neatly on the shelves. A few wooden barrels and crates were stacked against the corner, leaving plenty of open floor space for the coming influx of apples.
Applejack scratched her ear, not sure what to think. Maybe Big Mac got done early with the plow an' came in ta give me a hoof? Shrugging, she took a jar of preserves down from the shelves. Perhaps she would get a break for lunch after all.
One apple-jelly sandwich later, the orange mare set off to take stock of the baskets. She would need to collect and organize all of the baskets, as well as check them each for damage. There was always a few of the wooden containers that had succumbed to weathering over the months of neglect, and there were few things more frustrating than having the bottom of a basket of apples fall out when it was lifted.
Applejack stopped as she entered the storage area of the barn. There before her in tall stacks were all of the farm's apple baskets, ready to be taken out to the fields. A couple of broken baskets were set aside to be turned into firewood or spare lumber. Her nostrils flared. “Pinkie,” she said sternly, “when I said not ta help me, I didn't mean 'except when I ain't lookin'.' ”
A poofy pink tail unfolded behind the stacks of baskets. Out stepped a sheepishly grinning Pinkie Pie. “Oopsies,” she said, “well, now I know that.”
A few different emotions battled for control of Applejack's face. Anger at Pinkie for doing exactly what she had told her not to do held a solid swath of territory around her jaw muscles. Pity for the pink mare and guilt for being the cause of her situation held an uneasy truce over her eyes. An urge to giggle at the ridiculousness of being mad at somepony for doing her chores for her launched a major offensive against her sinuses, expelling a loud snort.
Pinkie joined in with a chortle of her own, and it proved too infectious for the other factions to hold their ground. Applejack let loose a full, throaty laugh. It seemed disproportionate to the humor present, but she could not help herself.
“Wh—who even told ya what needed doin' around here?” Applejack wheezed. She wiped a mirthful tear from her eye.
“I grew up on a farm, too,” Pinkie explained. “Well, rocks are a bit different from apples, so maybe I also asked Big Mac how I could help.”
“Aha,” said Applejack, dusting off her hat. “I think I'll have ta have a talk with my brother sometime.”
Pinkie tapped her hooves together. “So, now that your chores are done, how about that balloon ride?”
Applejack shook her head. “That ain't all my chores, sugarcube. I still need ta check on the east field, make sure everything'll be ripe by applebuck season.”
“And how better to make your inspection than from the air? C'mon, it'll be super fun!”
Truthfully, the balloon would make inspection easier. By hoof, it would take her till dark to make the circuit around the orchard. She would cover a lot more ground by air. “Ya ain't givin' up on this balloon idea, are ya?”
Pinkie shook her head. “Nope!”
“I wanna make it real clear this ain't a date, Pinkie.”
“Not a date, got it.” The pink pony nodded enthusiastically. “Because we're just friends, not fillyfriends.”
Applejack sighed. “Alright, sugarcube, you win. Let's go flyin'.”
*-*-*Pinkie*-*-*
It was not entirely untruthful of Pinkie Pie to take a sick day off of work today. Heartsick was a type of sick. If she had stayed put in the bakery all day, she was certain she would have driven Mr. and Mrs. Cake crazy. They would have been all, 'Pinkie, that's the tenth batch of cupcakes you've made this morning. We don't have enough icing for all of them!' and Pinkie would have gone, 'B-but if I stop baking, I'll start fee-ee-ling again!' Really, she was doing them a favor by taking a sick day.
Besides, now she got to ride in a balloon with Applejack. Not in a romantic, date between two very special someponies sort of way, just in a helping a super-nice, really attractive friend with her farm work by spending time alone with her in a balloon sort of way. Completely not the same thing at all.
This not being the first time Pinkie had borrowed Twilight's balloon—though she at least had permission this time—it did not take her very long at all to get the craft inflated and ready to lift off. The magical heating element sputtered and sparked as the fabric billowed outwards. Light purple stars and swirls stretched out to fill the cloudless sky.
The balloon began to tug against its tether. Pinkie Pie bounced happily. “Hop in,” she invited.
Applejack hesitated a moment before climbing into the basket. The balloon wobbled as Pinkie jumped in after her. With a quick tug, she untied the tether and the ground drifted away from them.
The farm pony leaned over the edge of the basket to watch the grass pass beneath them. “Uh, Pinkie,” she said, her eyes following the patch of dirt they had launched from as it grew smaller. “The wind's carryin' us the right direction for now, but what are we gonna do when we get to the other end of the field an' have ta turn around?”
Pinkie hung her forehooves over the edge. “We'll flag a weatherpony down and ask them to change the wind. Maybe Dashie'll be up by then.” She turned her eyes to the apple trees that drifted past them. “So, what are we looking for?”
Applejack turned her attention to the orchard as well. “We're mostly lookin' at the color of the apples. Most of 'em should be almost red by now. If there's too many greens, we'll have ta push applebuck season back another week.”
Pinkie nodded and fixed her eyes on the fruits. There's a nice, bright red one. Ooh, and another! Then there's a couple of green apples, one that's sorta green but sorta red so it ended up looking kinda yellow... Oh, wow, those are three of the juiciest, tastiest, reddest apples I've ever seen! No, wait, that's Applejack's flank. Pinkie giggled to herself.
“What's so funny?” Applejack asked, oblivious to the unintentional ogling she was receiving.
“Nothing,” Pinkie said, grinning as she turned to adjust the heating element. They needed to fly lower if they were going to get a good look at any apples that weren't on anypony's flank. Though, if Pinkie Pie was honest with herself, those were the apples she was really interested in looking at. She shook her head. No, bad Pinkie, she thought to herself. We're here to help AJ, not stare at her rump!
For the most part, the apples looked just like Applejack had said they would. Most of them were red or nearly red. The ones that were still unripe were the exception, not the rule. Conversation between the two friends soon drifted away from business.
“...and then I just pop out and shout 'surprise!' ” The party pony punctuated herself with a small burst of confetti as demonstration.
“Huh,” Applejack said, “I always wondered how you did that.”
Pinkie shrugged. “That's how. Everypony seems to think it's magic or something.”
“Heh, I reckon that'd explain why Mayor Mare always gets jumpy when I try ta sell her pies. I just figured she didn't like pastry!”
Pinkie Pie gasped. “Who doesn't like pastry?”
Applejack chuckled. “Well, that one prince feller back at the Gala didn't seem too keen on it. Hay, he acted like I tried ta poison him with that apple fritter. I get the feelin' Rarity wished I had.”
“Some ponies just don't know what's good!”
“You'll hear no argument from me on that.” The balloon grew quiet for a few minutes, apart from the hissing of hot air rising from the heating element. After a long pause, Applejack cleared her throat. “Say, sugarcube. You ever get one a' these crushes on anypony else before?”
It stung Pinkie to hear Applejack call her feelings a 'crush.' They were much more than some crush, but then, she couldn't expect Applejack to understand how she felt if she didn't feel the same way. Actually, that stung even worse. She fought to keep the smile on her face as she shook her head. “I've never felt for anypony the way I feel about you,” she managed to say. Her eyes widened. “Felt about you,” she hastily corrected.
Applejack shifted her eyes uncomfortably. “It's okay, hon. I don't 'spect this sort of thing goes away overnight.”
Pinkie wasn't sure she wanted this sort of thing to go away ever. She cleared her throat and continued, “But I have had crushes before. I've even dated one of them.” Pinkie giggled quietly. “That ended in a giant bowl of pudding.”
This seemed to entertain Applejack. “Do I even wanna know the details?”
Pinkie shook her head. “Even if you did, I promised her I wouldn't talk about it.” Her eyes shot open. “Oh no, I talked about it! Applejack, you have to keep this a secret!”
The farm mare laughed. “Don't worry, sugar. Nopony'll ever hear nothin' from me 'bout no bowl of pudding.”
The pink baker breathed a sigh of relief. Another tree full of ripe apples drifted past the balloon's basket. “What about you, Applejack? Have you ever dated anypony before?”
“I have, though not in a long while, I reckon.”
Pinkie leaned forward. “Well? Who was it? Didja like them? What happened?”
Applejack peered over the edge of the basket as though watching for eavesdroppers. “All right, Pinkie, I'll tell ya, but ya gotta promise not ta tell anypony. Especially Rarity, she'd go crazy if she knew.”
Pinkie Pie mimed a complicated sequence of actions beginning with zipping her lips shut and ending with her rear legs leaning against the edge of the basket.
Applejack tilted her head. “Okay, I kept up with ya up to the house ya built on top of the hole where ya buried the key, but then ya lost me.”
“Then I demolished the house and built a thirty story highrise instead, and made it the headquarters of an international finance company!” The basket swung as Pinkie bounced happily.
“What was this?” Applejack asked, putting her forehooves behind her back.
“That was me getting arrested for insider trading!”
There. That smile, right there. That was why Pinkie loved Applejack. That open, honest grin made everything feel better. Her light tan freckles danced with the corners of her mouth. Her bright green eyes glimmered in the late afternoon light. Pinkie momentarily forgot where she was. Twilight's library, Canterlot, the moon, it didn't matter. She was with Applejack, and Applejack was smiling, and everything was alright.
“Alright, that's good enough for me,” said Applejack, snapping Pinkie out of her reverie. “Like I said, it was a long time ago. I was maybe Apple Bloom's age or a little older. This was when I was livin' with my aunt an' uncle Orange in Manehattan. An' yes, I'm aware that's awful young.”
“Anyways, that year in the school the Oranges had me go to, there was two new ponies. Myself, an' a unicorn colt by the name a' Fancois. Fancois' folks were some kind of dignitaries or somethin, an' they were always movin' around Equestria. It was hard ta make friends when everypony else already knew each other an' we were the odd ones out, so me an' Fancois fell in together.”
“The other kids, bein' kids, teased us. They'd talk like we were each other's special someponies, ta try an' embarrass us. So we decided ta show 'em what's what by goin' ahead and really bein' each other's special someponies.”
Applejack shook her head and smiled softly. “We were just fillies an' colts, so we had no idea what the hay we were doin'. Mostly, we jus' spouted lines at each other that we'd read in books or heard in plays. Holdin' hooves, awkward muzzle rubbin', mostly ta tweak our classmates' noses.”
“Anyway, it only lasted as long as the time we stayed in Manehattan. His folks moved on before too long—ta Fillydelphia, I think—an' I started gettin' homesick. You've already heard the rest of the story. Rainbow, home, cutie mark, the end.”
Pinkie rested her head on her forehooves, enthralled. “Do you miss him? Did you love him?”
It did not take Applejack any time to shake her head. “Spite ain't a good thing ta build a relationship on. Fancois was a nice enough colt, but he didn't mean much more ta me than a way ta get under the skin of a few snotty foals. An' I'm fair certain I meant the same ta him. 'Sides that, it weren't long after comin' home that I decided I liked mares better.”
“Huh.” Pinkie blinked. “I don't understand why Rarity would be upset by any of that.”
“Ah, yeah,” said Applejack, coughing nervously. “See, nowadays Fancois is better known as Fancy. Fancy Pants.”
“Fancy Pants? Isn't that—”
“Yup. Rarity's idol up in Canterlot. We ran into him during Twilight's birthday party, remember? I don't think he recognized me. Hay, we were back on the train ta Ponyville before I realized it was him.” Applejack chuckled. “Oh, Rarity'd have a breakdown if she knew I'd once dated her big hero!”
Pinkie giggled. “For Rarity's sake, nopony must ever know,” she agreed. She thought for a moment, then gasped. “So wait, you haven't been on a date since you were a filly? Oh, Applejack, you said you needed to learn to have more fun, but I never knew it was this bad! Even Twilight's been out more than that!”
A red tint brushed the farmer's muzzle. “Hush up, you. I've jus' been busy, is all!”
Pinkie Pie scooted closer to Applejack. “You've gotta let somepony show you a good time some time! Come on, let your auntie Pinkie take you to dinner!”
Applejack pushed the pink mare away. “Several things wrong with that idea. First, referrin' ta yourself as 'auntie Pinkie' ain't a great way ta ask somepony on a date. Second, applebuckin' is gonna take up all my time for the next couple weeks, so even if I wanted to, I can't. An' thirdly, you takin' me ta dinner is 'bout the furthest thing I can think of from helpin' you get over me.”
Right. Pinkie was not here to be anypony's special somepony. She was here to help inspect the... “Where's the orchard?” Pinkie Pie peered over the edge of the basket. They were still surrounded by trees, but none of them were apple trees anymore.
Applejack blinked. “Where's the—aw shoot! We've gone an' sailed right past the edge of the field! We're over the Everfree now!” A thick morass of thorns and vines crept below them like a carpet. The gnarled upper branches of an old knobbly tree reached out and scratched the rim of the basket.
Pinkie leapt to her hooves, cranking the heater as high as it would go. If one of those trees tore the balloon open, Twilight would have Pinkie's hide, assuming one of the creatures of the Everfree didn't get it first.
Applejack dug a lasso out of her bag and snagged the top of a nearby tree, anchoring them in place and ensuring they didn't drift any deeper into the forest. “Whew,” she said, tying the rope off. “Now what do we do?”
On one side, the twisted carpet of green stretched on to the mountains on the horizon. On another, it simply faded into the distant mist. On a third side, the outline of the barn stood silhouetted against the setting sun. “Well,” Pinkie said, scratching her ear, “we can try shouting and hope somepony is close enough to hear us.” The odds of that were not too good. Sweet Apple Acres was a fair distance outside of Ponyville, and they were more than a mile away from the farmhouse. Even with Pinkie Pie's prodigious lung capacity, they were unlikely to be heard by anypony that wasn't already in the Everfree Forest themselves. And there weren't many ponies with any business in the Everfree.
“Or we can land the balloon an' carry it out by hoof,” Applejack said. Both ponies peered over the edge into the darkening greenery. “You just see somethin' move down there?”
Pinkie shook her head. “No. I just saw a whole lot of somethings move down there!”
Two earth ponies in a balloon above the Everfree tried their level best to scream until Canterlot could hear them.
A sunset and two hoarse throats later, Pinkie and Applejack were getting tired. “If we have to,” said Applejack, her voice cracking from all the shouting, “ya think we'll be able ta spend the night up here? I don't much fancy wanderin' through that forest in the dark. Bad enough in the daytime, it is.”
Pinkie frowned at the magical heating element. “Twilight's balloon is pretty good for day trips, but it's gonna run out of juice sooner or later.” As if to illustrate, the heater sputtered and winked out for a moment before coughing back to life. She sniffed. “I'm sorry, Applejack. I just wanted to spend some more time with you. I know we can't be fillyfriends like I wanted, but I thought maybe we could be closer as regular friends. I—”
A pair of orange hooves pulled her into a hug. “Shh,” Applejack cooed. “It ain't your fault. If I'd been payin' attention, we'd have been able ta turn around before we got out over the forest.”
Pinkie Pie felt her eyes sting as she buried her muzzle into the blonde mane. Applejack doesn't love me, she recited. Pickle barrels. Kumquats. Applejack doesn't love me.
“Oh... my.” Two pairs of ears perked up as a soft voice reached them. A pink mane and yellow wings hovered over the tree tops.
“Fluttershy!” Applejack cheered. “Boy howdy are we ever glad ta see you! Didja hear us hollerin' all the way from yer cottage?”
Fluttershy alighted on the edge of the basket and shook her head. “I was just going home from Zecora's after picking up some herbs for Mr. Bearington. I looked up and saw Twilight's balloon above me.” Her eyes shifted between the two earth ponies. “Um, why are you flying a balloon out over the Everfree Forest? You know nopony controls the wind out here, right?”
“It's a bit of a story,” said Applejack as she offered a rope to the pegasus. “You mind givin' us a tow back to the farm while we tell it?”
“Oh. Um, okay.”
It was well after dark by the time they landed the balloon on civilized ground. Profuse gratitude and promises of more pies than Fluttershy would ever know what to do with were offered to their savior, who politely replied she was 'happy to help,' and needed to get back to check on Mr. Bearington.
“Well, that was an adventure,” Applejack laughed as she helped Pinkie fold up the balloon. “Next time, why don't we aim for a nice game of tic tac toe or somethin'?”
“I don't know,” said Pinkie, lowering the magical heating element into a box. “We didn't end up turning a mad god into stone, facing down a dragon, or halting an invasion this time. I'd say today was pretty tame by our standards.”
This drew a fresh round of chuckles from the farm pony. “Fair point.” The balloon, when all packed up, fit into its own basket. It was a bit bulky, but no trouble at all for a stout earth pony to carry. “But really, Pinkie. I had a good time today, despite the setbacks. No, probably 'cause of the setbacks.”
Pinkie turned to face Applejack. The moonlight glinted off the brim of her hat, and she was wearing that full, honest smile again. “I had a good time, too.” Pinkie leaned forward and shut her eyes.
When she opened them again, Applejack's smile was gone. In its place was a heavy blush and a troubled frown. Wait a minute. There was a piece missing from this puzzle. First Applejack was smiling. Then Pinkie had closed her eyes and leaned forward...
“Pinkie...”
Lips. Lips were the missing piece. Warm, soft lips, with a hint of salty sweat left on them from the day's work. Lips had happened, and then Applejack had stopped smiling.
Pinkie coughed. “Well! I better get Twilight her balloon back! I mean, she only lent it to me for the afternoon, what if she wants to go on a night flight or something?” She hoisted the balloon onto her back and decided to see how fast she could gallop while carrying a heavy load. It was hard to run straight when her eyes stung so bad, but she knew the way to Twilight's library.
“Pinkie Pie, stop!”
Pinkie Pie did not stop. She had spent the whole day not doing what Applejack told her. Why should she start now? Applejack doesn't love me. Chimicherrychangas. Applejack doesn't love me.
Carousel Boutique was an odd structure. Before her friend Rarity had moved in and renovated it, Applejack remembered it housing an actual carousel once. The rotating chariots had not moved in a long while by the time Rarity had chosen it as the location of her fledgeling fashion venture, but even now the circus-tent style peaked roof and festive decorations adorned the exterior.
Applejack paused as she approached the door. She did not often drop by Carousel Boutique without good reason. She had learned to respect and admire her fashionable friend despite their differences, but showing up at Rarity's home unannounced tended to result in getting used as a dress form for whatever fancy dress or hat the fashion designer was working on at the time. Applejack took a deep breath and let her hoof knock against the door. She needed advice, and Rarity seemed like the best pony to talk to about this particular problem. That would have to be worth getting roped into some frilly dress.
Rarity's voice drifted through the door. “Twilight, dear, please tell Spike I'm busy with an order and cannot see him today.”
“Oh. Uh, in that case, I'll jus' drop by later.” Applejack turned and started back towards the road when the door opened behind her.
“Applejack?” Rarity peeked her head out of the door, glancing left and right as she did. She beckoned the farm mare inside with her hoof. “Come in, come in! I thought you were someone else.”
Applejack stood still in hesitation. Finally an impatient, pleading look from her friend convinced her to enter. “Who'd ya think I was?”
Rarity shut the door securely, then waved her hoof dismissively as she trotted back toward her work station. “That's not important. Do remember to wipe your hooves, please.”
The farm pony was certain her hooves were not any meaningful level of dirty, but she humored the mare anyway. There was no sense in antagonizing the pony she was seeking advice from.
“Can I get you anything, darling? Tea? Some toast? Oh, I have some fresh cherries I picked up at the market this morning that are simply divine!” Rarity levitated a bowl of plump red cherries in from the kitchen.
Applejack picked one out of the bowl by the stem. “Thanks, Rarity.” She wasn't hungry, but it was easier to just take what was offered to her than to try and refuse Rarity's generosity.
The unicorn smiled broadly and then adjusted her glasses, focusing on a piece of embroidery she had on her desk. “So, what brings you my way, darling? I mean no offense, but you're not typically one to brave the gauntlet of frills and curlers voluntarily.”
The cherries were very sweet. A bit too sweet, in Applejack's opinion, but then, she tended to be biased against any fruit that wasn't an apple. “May as well cut right to the thick a' things,” she said. “Pinkie Pie fancies me.”
The embroidery was dropped to the desk, forgotten, as Rarity let out a delighted gasp. “Oh, Pinkie finally said something! That's wonderful, dear!”
Applejack's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. “What do ya mean, 'finally?' Are you sayin' ya already knew?”
Rarity giggled demurely. “Applejack, darling, half my business comes from ponies trying to look their best for their big date! I would be a poor businessmare indeed if I did not have a feel for these things! Now, tell me all the details. Where did she take you for your first date? Was it someplace romantic? Being Pinkie, I'm sure it was something completely unpredictable!”
“We didn't go noplace,” Applejack said. Well no, that ain't exactly true. “I mean, we did go fishin' together.” She paused to think. “...And there was a ride on a hot air balloon,” she added, “but it weren't a date.”
Rarity's lips drew into a frown of confusion. “I'm afraid you've lost me, darling. Pinkie confessed her love to you, and then you and she went on not one but two ventures that, while the romantic value of getting fish smell all over your coat is debatable, certainly both fall under the heading of 'things ponies might do for a date.' How was it not a date?”
“ 'Cause I don't love her back!” The bowl of cherries wobbled as Applejack pounded a hoof on the end table.
The seamstress' eyes widened in shock. A minute of dumbfounded silence passed before she turned her nose up and snorted in disgust. “Well! You really are a brute, aren't you?”
“What?” Now it was Applejack's turn to look confused.
“Leading the poor dear on like that? Have you no shame? Honestly, I thought even you knew better than to toy with somepony's heart in such a cruel way!” Rarity narrowed her eyes judgmentally.
Applejack grit her teeth. First Rarity acts all confusin', an' all of a sudden she accuses me of it bein' all my fault? “I ain't—” She winced. If she had handled this whole thing perfectly, then she wouldn't be here seeking Rarity's advice in the first place. Maybe she was at least partially at fault here. “I mean, I ain't tryin' ta lead her on. I tried ta set her straight. I told her it couldn't happen. But she jus' keeps pushin' at it. This is why I need your help, Rarity. I don't wanna lose a friend over this.”
“My help?”
“Well yeah.” Applejack shifted her weight from one hoof to the other. “I figured, maybe somepony like you might know what ta do in a situation like this.”
Another annoyed huff escaped Rarity's muzzle. “In the interest of diplomacy, I am going to choose to take that as a compliment of my social skills, and not a rather rude implication about my private life.”
“Please, take it however ya want, jus' help me out here!” Applejack looked at her friend pleadingly. “Rarity, she kissed me last night!”
Rarity's nose remained suspended in the air by indignation, but curiosity softened her eyes. “What were you doing before she kissed you?”
The farmer shrugged. “Nothin'. Jus' talkin'. I—” She smacked herself in the forehead. “Hayfries. I told her I enjoyed the balloon ride!”
Rarity nodded. “Well there you go. Ponies—our friend Pinkie especially—are very good at hearing what they want to hear.”
“Well what am I s'posed to do 'bout that? Tie my mouth shut every time she's nearby?”
A faint blush crossed Rarity's white cheeks and she laughed nervously. “She might get the wrong kind of ideas from that as well.”
Applejack stuck her tongue out in disgust. “Ew! What can I do, then? It ain't like I can try an' avoid Pinkie Pie. Ya can ask Rainbow Dash—it ain't physically possible!”
Rarity tapped a hoof against her chin. “Of course I can help you, darling, but I'm wondering if I should. It feels like I'd be playing for the wrong team.”
“ 'Scuse me?”
“Well, I mean, the two of you would make such a darling couple! Couldn't you at least give her a chance? Your coats go together so well! And the portmanteau would be simply delicious!”
Applejack did not respond verbally but leveled a threatening glare at the unicorn.
She coughed nervously. “My personal feelings on aesthetics aside, of course, it would be wrong to build a relationship on a one-sided exchange of emotions, ha ha.” Rarity cleared her throat. “Okay. What you need to do is tell her, in no uncertain terms—”
Knock knock knock. “Hey, Rarity?” Spike's adolescent voice sounded from behind the door.
Rarity's pupils shrank to pinpricks. She dove beneath her desk. “I. Am. Not. Here!” she hissed to Applejack.
Spike's voice continued speaking through the door. “I found some gemstones this morning. They're really shiny, but y'know, I already ate, so I thought maybe you'd like to have them for your dresses or something.”
Applejack's eyes flickered between Rarity and the door. “I don't believe this,” she whispered. Rarity frantically put a hoof to her lips.
“Uh, so, since you're not answering, I guess you're still in bed. That's cool, I like to sleep in, too, but Twilight usually doesn't let me. Oh, I hope I didn't wake you up! I'll just leave these here, and you can grab them when you get up.” Little claws scampered away from the door.
Applejack glared as Rarity crawled out from under her desk. “So, if I'm leadin' somepony on, it makes me a brute, but if you're doin' it, it's jus' fine? Is that it?”
Rarity sputtered in embarrassment. “I-it's not entirely the same thing, here. Spike's a darling, but—”
“I'm sorry, that's right. Y'all were sayin' I need ta tell somepony somethin' in no uncertain terms?”
The unicorn stared uncomfortably at the tile floor. “Ahem. Yes, well, perhaps I am not the ideal source of advice for how to let somepony know you aren't interested after all. I apologize for that.”
Applejack wrenched open the door. “I ain't got time fer this nonsense,” she muttered as she kicked the bag of gems inside to Rarity. A grumpy huff carried her into a brisk canter as she made her way back home.
Ponyville became dirt road became apple trees. “I got apples ta buck, I ain't got time nor patience ta put up with any of this mess. If Pinkie comes by, I'll jus' tell her... I don't know, somethin' ta make her understand that me an' her as lovers ain't gonna happen, but we'll always be friends. An' if she don't like that, then... then she'll have ta learn ta like it anyway!” The apple farmer huffed as her hooves automatically carried her to the barn to grab some baskets. An early start on bucking was just what she needed to burn off the temper she'd worked up at Rarity's.
Gee, it's gettin' awful dark, Applejack thought to herself, dragging out a sturdy wooden basket. She looked up to see dark stormclouds churning in the sky. “Now hang on, there weren't no storm scheduled fer today. What's goin' on?”
A low howl drifted on the stirring wind. Applejack's shoulders sank. “No...” As if to contradict her, the lone howl was joined by several others.
Granny Smith scrambled out of the front door of the farmhouse banging a spoon against a metal pot. “Timberwolves howlin',” she shouted excitedly. “ 'S the first sign!”
Applejack sank to her haunches, the basket she had been carrying tumbling to the ground. “Ya gotta be kiddin' me.” Zap-apple harvest was coming. Right in the middle of applebuck season. Horseapples.
*-*-*Mrs. Cake*-*-*
Mrs. Cake chewed her bottom lip nervously. Her husband pressed against her side, all but cowering in sheer terror. “Pinkie,” she said, “this is the tenth batch of cupcakes you've made this morning. I don't think we have enough icing for all of these!”
A sobbing pink wreck of a mare let the metal tray clatter on the counter, splashing gobs of batter everywhere. Her lower lip trembled. “B-but, if I stop baking, I'll start fee-ee-ling again!” At some point in her life, Pinkie Pie's tear ducts must have been replaced with high pressure water valves, because she was currently flooding the kitchen like a broken water pipe.
“Oh dear,” muttered Mrs. Cake as she reached out a consoling hoof to the quivering mass of pink fur and tears. “I'm sorry about—” she paused to think. Pinkie had not strung together more than a couple coherent words since she had burst in the door the previous night, blubbering something about apples, balloons, and 'I blew it!' “...about whatever happened,” Mrs. Cake continued. “Maybe you could use a break? Staying cooped up in the kitchen won't solve anything. I bet you'd feel a lot better if you saw your friends.”
“My friends,” sniffed Pinkie, her watery eyes turning up toward Mrs. Cake's face. “F-friends, like Applejack... Bwaaaah!” Mrs. Cake was drenched in a fresh torrent of pitiful weeping.
“Carrot, honey,” Mrs Cake gestured to the latest batch of cupcakes cooling on the windowsill. “Can you put those out on the shelves with the others? We'll sell cupcakes at a discount today.”
Her orange maned mate nodded and grabbed the tray, visibly grateful for an excuse to get out of the kitchen. She could sympathize with his nervousness. Seeing the eternally cheerful Pinkie Pie this distraught was disturbing, like watching a river change direction or the sun wink out of the sky. “Is there...” Mrs. Cake reached for words. “Is there anything Carrot or I can do for you, Pinkie? You know you're like a daughter to us.”
Pinkie rubbed her nose with a hoof. “Do you know a way to un-kiss somepony?”
The blue mare shook her head, frowning. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a knock at the front door of the bakery.
“I got it,” Mr. Cake said. His hoofsteps trotted across the main lobby. The little silver bell on top of the door jingled as he pulled it open. “Why, good morning, Miss Applejack. What can I do for you today?”
Pinkie's ears perked straight up. “Applejack!” She shot out of the kitchen, leaving Mrs. Cake spinning in her wake. A moment later, she zipped back into the kitchen to steady the mare before once again speeding out to the lobby.
Mrs. Cake wore a puzzled expression on her face as she peered out of the kitchen doorway to listen in.
She could see Applejack flinch as Pinkie nearly bowled Mr. Cake over to greet her friend. Her forehooves spread out wide to give the orange pony a big squeeze. However, before the hug was made, Pinkie jerked back, slapping her own hooves. “I... Applejack, I...” she stammered, uncharacteristically tongue-tied.
Applejack rocked back and forth on her hooves uncomfortably. “Listen, Pinkie, you an' me need ta talk about last night, an' I really wish we could do that right now. But that ain't what I'm here about.”
Pinkie Pie nodded silently. Applejack turned to face Mr. Cake. “Mr. an' Mrs. Cake, with your permission, I'd like ta borrow Pinkie's services for the next week. Zap apples are comin' in in the middle of applebuck season this year, an' we need as many hooves as we can get out at Sweet Apple Acres. Y'all will be compensated for yer loss of labor, of course.”
Mrs. Cake stepped forward, shaking her head. “You don't need to pay us anything, dear. Pinkie is free to come and go as she pleases.”
“I know, but I have ta insist,” the apple farmer said firmly. “As the face of Sweet Apple Acres, I need ta conduct my business professionally.”
The Cakes shared a glance. At length, the matron of Sugarcube Corner nodded her assent. “Okay, very well. What were you thinking?”
“Sugarcube Corner gets a fifty percent discount on its supply of zap-apple jam this year,” Applejack responded.
Mrs. Cake let out a loud gasp. “Dearie, that's way too much!”
Applejack shook her head. “If we can bring in both harvests at once, it'll be more than worth it. Now, I ain't got no paper on me ta write out a contract, so we'll have ta resort to the old ways a' makin' business agreements.” She spat on her hoof, and extended it to Mr. Cake.
With a glance back to his wife, Mr. Cake spat on his own hoof and shook Applejack's. Mrs. Cake stepped up and did the same.
Pinkie Pie looked up in confusion as Applejack offered her hoof to her. “You're the one workin',” the farm mare explained. “ 'Course you gotta shake too.”
The pink mare stared at her hoof for a minute. Finally, she spat on it and gave Applejack a firm shake.
“It's a deal, then,” said Applejack. She tipped her hat forward. “It's always a pleasure, Mr. an' Mrs. Cake. I wish I could stay an' talk,” she cast a sidelong glance at Pinkie, “but I got a whole lot more hooves ta shake today. I'll see you at eight sharp, Pinkie.”
Pinkie Pie started out the door after her. “Applejack,” she said.
Applejack froze for half a second. “I'll see you at eight sharp,” she repeated, and disappeared into the crowded cobbled streets of Ponyville.
Pinkie sat in the doorway, staring out at the streets. She did not move until Mr. Cake finally cleared his throat and indicated he was trying to shut the door. She rose to her hooves and wandered over to the display shelves, which were stuffed full of cupcakes from her morning's baking rampage. She took one off the shelf, sniffed it, then took a small nibble.
“Bleh,” Pinkie said, making a face. “These are terrible! I think I forgot to put sugar in these!” She zipped into the kitchen to be accompanied by the sounds of clattering pans and bowls.
Mrs. Cake's husband swallowed loudly, his eyes darting back and forth between the kitchen and the front door. “Honey,” he asked her, “What just happened?”
She worked her jaw. “Well, Pinkie—” No, she didn't really have an explanation for that. “See, Applejack—” No, that was a bit of a puzzle, as well. Finally, she settled on a fact she could wrap her head around. “We're getting a discount on our zap apple jam, dear.”
Carrot nodded absently. “Ah, okay. Good.” The both of them winced at a loud crash emanating from their kitchen.
“Nothing broke!” Pinkie called.
*-*-*Applejack*-*-*
Applejack was no liar. When she said she had a lot of hooves to shake, she meant it. Internally, she grimaced at the thought of losing a whole day of farm work just to go around and talk to ponies, but the practical side of her knew she needed the help. Her stubborn pride had nearly ruined applebuck season a couple years prior, not to mention the trouble she had caused for herself and her friends, and she was determined not to make the same mistake twice.
She had gone to her friends for help first. Not only did she know for certain they would be willing to help, but each of them had helped out on the farm before. Experience was an important asset; it meant she did not have to waste valuable bucking time explaining how to do things.
Next was townsfolk around Ponyville. Being an earth pony town, there were plenty of experienced farmers in the area. Unfortunately, many of them had their own crops to harvest and could not afford to spare the horsepower. However, the ponies of Ponyville tended to be a helpful and friendly lot, especially when a discount on cider was brought to the table. Rose, Lilly and Daisy were better with flowers than fruit, but Applejack could count on the flower trio to handle the apples with care. Applejack was delighted when Golden Harvest agreed to help, not only because she was an excellent farmer but also because it represented a big step towards mending fences with the Carrots after a certain incident with pies and a misplaced hammer.
Applejack should not have been surprised when Apple Fritter and Apple Tart arrived on the train from Appleloosa. She should have guessed that Big Mac would have sent letters off to every branch of the Apple family tree as soon as the first sign of the zap apple harvest showed up. Of course, it was applebuck season in the rest of Equestria as well, so she couldn't count on a whole lot of family coming, but every little bit counted.
By the time the sun rose the next day, Applejack could count on seeing nearly two dozen ponies gathered at her farm to help. Now there was only one problem...
Apple Bloom made her eyes as big and pleading as she could manage. Her lip trembled and she folded her ears against her big pink bow. “C'mon, sis, pleeease?”
“Absolutely not,” Applejack bellowed. She stamped her hoof against the floor sternly. “Ya ain't skippin' school!”
“This could be my chance ta earn my cutie mark!”
“No sister a' mine's earnin' her cutie mark for playin' hookie. I said no.”
“But I wanna help!” The little filly reared on her hind legs.
The elder apple sister shook her head. “Ya can help by attendin' yer classes like a good filly. Now get yer books together.”
Apple Bloom petulantly kicked one of her schoolbooks across the floor. It slid under the table.
“Apple Bloom!” Applejack scolded. “You pick that up!”
“No!”
“Apple Bloom,” the elder sister growled.
“I'm an Apple, too!” shouted Apple Bloom. “You're the one always tellin' me family comes first! How come I ain't allowed ta help my family?” Angry tears formed in the corners of the filly's eyes.
“Aw, sugar...” Applejack knelt down to wrap her sister in a hug. “ 'Course family's important. But this is just one year's harvest. It ain't nothin' next ta you gettin' an education. Yer a growin' filly, an' ya need ta learn about the world.”
“Ain't fair,” sniffed the filly, burrowing her face into Applejack's fetlocks. “I wanna learn about the farm so I can help you an' Mac an' Granny.”
Applejack patted her on the back. “You goin' an' learnin' yer numbers'll help us all out a whole lot more than buckin' trees all day, hon. 'Sides,” she said, mussing Apple Bloom's mane and setting her bow off-center, “it ain't like we're gonna be outa apple trees ta buck by the time ya get back from school.”
Apple Bloom looked up hopefully at her. “W-will ya teach me how ta buck the trees?”
Applejack smiled. “Tell ya what. When ya get back from school, you tell me 'bout what ya learned today, an' I'll take ya ta practice on the saplings. Does that work?”
The filly nodded her head. She scampered underneath the table to pick up her discarded schoolbook and balanced it on her back with another book and her lunchbox.
“Hang on.” Applejack scribbled a note on a scrap of paper. Miss Cheerilee. My sis here is a bit antsy about applebuck season. I'd appreciate it a good deal if you would keep a special eye on her this week. She's a good filly, but I'm worried she might try and cut class sometime this week. Thank you for all your hard work. --Applejack. She folded the note and pinned it to a shiny red apple, which she put on top of Apple Bloom's pile. “You give this to your teacher, okay?”
Apple Bloom wobbled a bit to keep the apple from rolling off her lunch pail. “Okay, sis.”
“Good girl. Now, ya better git. School starts in twenty minutes.” Applejack leaned against the doorframe and smiled as she watched her sister shrink into the distance along the dirt road.
Big Mac appeared next to her, leaning on the porch. He flicked the stalk of grass he was chewing on from one side of his mouth to the other. “Y'know... ya look jus' like—”
“Don't you say it,” Applejack warned him.
Macintosh nodded. “The help's all assembled by the barn, waitin' fer ya.”
Applejack kept her eyes on the road until Apple Bloom disappeared around a bend. She blew a puff of air from her cheeks. “Alright, let's get this party started.”
*-*-*Rainbow Dash*-*-*
Some ponies were good at getting up early. Some ponies were able to be up and alert with a bright smile on their faces when asked to be somewhere at eight sharp. Rainbow Dash felt those ponies should shut up about it and let her get to sleep. It took plenty of rest to maintain a high-performance awesomeness engine like herself.
She yawned and flapped her wings grumpily as she stood side by side with the rest of the ponies Applejack had brought on to help with the harvest. Twilight was there next to her, carefully taking notes as Applejack gave everypony a rundown on the situation. Pinkie was there as well, bouncing excitedly. Fluttershy had told Rainbow to get word to Applejack that she would be there after she had made sure Mr. Bearington had what he needed for the day. I should probably actually tell AJ that, she thought. And Rarity... was probably off doing something Rarity-ish.
Apart from close friends, there were a few of Applejack's less immediate family members that Rainbow vaguely recognized from her friend's occasional family reunions—Was that yellow mare named Red Delicious or Golden Delicious? Wait a minute— and a few ponies from around town, most of them farmers themselves. Rainbow Dash was a bit surprised to see Golden Harvest present; she had heard rumors of some kind of feud between the Apples and the Carrot family. Maybe they settled it. Or maybe she's a spy! Dash resolved to keep a suspicious eye on that one.
“Rainbow,” Applejack said, snapping the pegasus' attention. “Ya listenin'?”
Rainbow Dash ran a hoof through her multicolored mane. “Lots of apples. Gotta pick 'em. I think I got the idea.”
A pair of green eyes narrowed on her. “This is serious, sugarcube. I got more reason than simple gratitude fer payin' y'all farmhand wages.” She swept her gaze across the crowd of friends and family. “This week, I ain't yer friend, I'm yer boss. When I ask y'all ta do somethin', it ain't 'cause yer buddy Applejack wants a favor, it's 'cause yer employer needs it done. If anypony's slackin' off, nopony gets paid. That ain't out of spite, it's cause if we don't get the zap apples down off the trees, there just won't be no bits period.”
The farm pony paced up and down the ranks of hired help like a drill sergeant in the Royal Guard. “I'm puttin' the fate of Sweet Apple Acres in yer hooves 'cause I trust y'all. Y'all are good ponies, an' I know ya won't let me down.” She reared up on her hind legs dramatically. “Now get out there an' buck some apples!”
Rainbow Dash raised her wings to take off, but halted as Applejack called her name. “Rainbow, where's Fluttershy at?”
“Oh yeah,” she said, “ 'Shy said she was busy taking care of a bear. She'll be over as soon as she can.”
“That's right, Mr. Bearington.” Applejack nodded. “When she gets here, have her take over for ya an' then come an' meet me in the north field.”
Dash nodded. “Will do.” She shot off into the air, only to realize she didn't know where she was supposed to be. She hovered in the air as Applejack issued orders to the rest.
“Twi, you seen Rarity?”
“I'm here!” Rarity panted as she scrambled up the hill to the barn. From the looks of her, Rainbow guessed she had run the whole way from Ponyville. “I'm sorry, darling, I had to walk Sweetie Belle to school. I didn't mean to—”
Applejack raised a hoof and smiled. “That's fine, Rare. Family comes first. I need ya to head on into the farmhouse an' help Granny Smith. She'll tell ya what needs done ta prepare for the zap apples.”
“Yes, darling, I'll get right on it.” Rainbow watched, impressed, as Rarity turned and trotted into the farmhouse without once stopping to complain about how the wind had ruined her mane or that she was all sweaty.
“Pinkie.”
Pinkie Pie snapped to attention.
Applejack hesitated. “You get started on the south field. Take Apple Fritter an' the flower trio with ya.”
Pinkie's ears drooped. “Applejack, I—”
“Not now, Pinkie. Please.” There was a desperate plea in the apple farmer's voice.
Pinkie closed her mouth and saluted. “Yes ma'am, boss ma'am!” She turned toward the south fields.
Woah, thought Rainbow Dash as she watched the exchange. What just went on there?
“Rainbow Dash!” Dash nearly fell out of the sky as Applejack shouted at her. “What the hay are ya still doin' here? Ya got scarecrow duty in the east field!”
“Scarecrow duty, right.” Rainbow Dash bobbed her head and started towards the rising sun, but paused. “Uh, what's that consist of, exactly?”
“Keep the dang birds from eatin' our apples! This is why ya gotta pay attention, Dash!” Applejack waved her hat at the pegasus in a shooing motion.
Rainbow Dash made a few powerful wingbeats and shot off into the east field. She didn't like getting yelled at, but she couldn't blame Applejack for being on edge. Two big harvests at once must be like Tornado Day and a Wonderbolts derby all at once for her. And what was with her and Pinkie? They were acting so awkward around each other. Totally uncool.
She shrugged and set her eyes on the flock of black birds that was descending upon the orchard. “All right, birds,” she said, smirking as she accelerated. “Lunchtime is over! Or, uh, I guess it's more like breakfast right now, but uh,” She stopped in midair to put a hoof to her chin and think. Hundreds of beady black eyes regarded her curiously.
Finally Rainbow Dash came up with a line she was satisfied with. “Time to feather off!” she shouted as she barreled through the cloud of black feathers.
*-*-*Twilight*-*-*
Twilight Sparkle's notorious knack for organization once again proved useful. Applejack's first instinct was to spread her strongest apple-buckers out evenly among the teams assigned to each field. It was Twilight who suggested it would be more efficient to place the strongest workers all on the same team and clear one of the fields immediately. Between Applejack, Big Macintosh and Golden Harvest, the north orchard was bucked clean on the very first day, allowing them to move on and help with the east, west and south fields.
Twilight's estimates were also critical in determining how much of the regular apple trees they would need to clear before the ripening of the zap apples would force them to shift all of their focus. The numbers were accurate, but a little disheartening.
“It ain't enough,” Applejack said, frowning at Twilight's clipboard. “That won't even leave us with enough apples ta cover cider season.”
Twilight levitated her clipboard back to herself. “Well, what if we kept a small team still working on the regular apples while everypony else harvests the zap apples?”
Applejack shook her head. “Zap apples disappear if ya don't get 'em off the tree in a day. It'll take all of us ta get the whole crop in.”
“I'm sorry, Applejack, this is what the numbers say.” Twilight made a few scratches on the parchment. “Even with this much help, we're still short-hoofed. How did you do so much of this by yourself two years ago?”
The farm pony lined up her rear hooves with a full apple tree. “Three things, sugarcube. One, half the trees in the west field weren't big enough ta bear fruit yet back then. Two, there weren't no zap apples ta deal with in the middle of it all. An' three, I had a thicker head than a rhino wearin' a helmet.” She gave the tree a solid buck, raining apples all around them. “After the harvest that year, Nurse Redheart told me if I tried ta get through another applebuck season without sleep, she'd break my legs!”
Twilight nodded. “I believe it. I saw the medical tent they pitched outside of Sugarcube Corner that day you baked cupcakes with Pinkie.”
Applejack chuckled. “I ain't never gonna live that week down, am I?”
“Probably not,” said Twilight. She cleared her throat and tapped her clipboard. “But what do you want to do about this? If you like I can run into town and try to recruit more ponies to help.”
Applejack balanced a basket of apples on her back. “I dunno, Twi. We already got most everypony in Ponyville that knows how ta buck apples. An' if we hire on anypony more, the farm starts losin' bits.”
“Bits are a problem,” agreed the unicorn, squinting at her organization chart, “but we don't really need more skilled workers so much as just more hooves. Especially with the first day of work under their belts, the ponies that are already here should be able to show new ponies what to do.”
“Maybe,” said Applejack, carrying her basket towards the farm. “Might be we can get our hooves on—Apple Bloom!”
The yellow filly stood proudly on top of a hill, waving. “Hiya, sis!”
Applejack stomped up the hill toward her. “Apple Bloom, you should be at school!”
Apple Bloom grinned broadly. “I am at school!” Miss Cheerilee appeared at the crest of the hill, as well as a dozen of Apple Bloom's classmates.
The pink-maned schoolteacher smiled sweetly. “Apple Bloom was telling me about how busy you were on the farm this week, and I thought it might be a wonderful opportunity to take the class out for a field trip to learn about agriculture! I was hoping you could help me give the children a hooves-on lesson on apple harvesting.”
Twilight scribbled a few figures in her notes, adding things up. She grinned and winked at Applejack.
Applejack nodded. “Uh, sure, I'd be delighted ta. First thing ya gotta know is that it's called apple-buckin'. Why don't y'all follow me over ta these trees over here an' I'll show ya how it's done?”
The gaggle of fillies and colts cheered excitedly, with Apple Bloom cheering loudest of all.
*-*-*Applejack*-*-*
The week was over, and Applejack couldn't imagine being more proud if she tried. Everypony had more than pulled their weight throughout the whole harvest. After a bit of trouble between Rainbow Dash and the crows on the first morning, Fluttershy had come in and succeeded in convincing the birds to leave the orchards alone for the rest of the season. She owed the yellow pegasus a ton of birdseed for it, but it was well worth it.
Rarity's discerning eyes were a blessing at the quality control stage of the harvest. Thanks to her, there was not a single bad apple in all the barrels in the apple cellar. And there were a lot of barrels in the cellar, due in no small part to Rainbow Dash's enthusiasm. She had spent the week racing full carts to the cellar and empty carts to the fields. The speedster had whined when there was no more apples left to haul, saying that she wanted another shot at beating her own best time.
But Applejack had to admit that the hero of the hour was Pinkie Pie. The baker had attacked those trees like a mare possessed. Every day she had been the first to show up in the morning, and the last to leave the fields at night. On the day the zap apples ripened, the only ponies that came close to her number of trees bucked were Big Macintosh and Applejack herself. It was fair to say that without Pinkie, they might not have finished the harvest at all. On top of that, it was she who made all the arrangements for the celebration once all the apples were in.
The party was held in the barn. The wagons that had served as transport all week were re-purposed to hold up large kegs of apple cider. Streamers of every color crisscrossed the barn, reminiscent of the colorful rays of light that had illuminated the zap apple fields just a day ago. Applejack made a mental note to ask Pinkie where she had found all the apple-shaped balloons that floated around the room like bubbles in a champagne bottle.
Applejack stood up on a wooden box. Her friends, family and neighbors milled about, happily chatting with each other or simply dancing to the tune being churned out of the phonograph in the corner. There was an air of triumph about the crowd. She knocked a hoof loudly against her box, drawing everypony's attention. Sensing a speech, they all grew quiet.
“I wanna start by thankin' y'all fer bein' here,” Applejack said, sweeping her hoof across the room. “If it weren't fer y'all, Granny Smith, Apple Bloom, Mac 'n I would be in a whole heap a' trouble right about now. That's the truth!”
The crowd responded with appreciative applause. Applejack raised her hoof. “On the table over here, we have some food.” Golden Harvest pulled a sheet off the table, revealing a banquet of steamed vegetables, salad and a tall cake. “Carrot cake,” she explained, “on account of I 'spect y'all are sick of apples about now!”
This drew some hearty laughter from the crowd. “Much obliged ta Miss Harvest an' her folks fer that.” The orange maned pony smiled and bowed.
“Anyhow, I want y'all to enjoy yerselves tonight. Ya earned it. Ain't no small feat what we accomplished here this week, an' it warms my heart to know I got so many ponies I can count on when I need ya.” The barn filled with cheers and applause. “Y'all have earned yer bits, and y'all have earned the right ta be darned proud of yerselves. Big Mac an' Granny Smith got yer pay over there by the table, an' if yer lookin' fer your pride, we got a mirror in the bathroom.” Ponies whistled and pounded their hooves cheerfully as Applejack stepped down from her box to join the party.
Rainbow Dash smirked as the farm pony found her in the crowd. “So this means you're not my boss anymore, right?”
Applejack smirked back at her. “I don't know, sugarcube. I think I've gotten used ta orderin' ya around. Maybe I'll keep ya on the payroll. Y'know, there's rich folk in Manehattan that pay pegasus ponies to just fly around with a cloud ta keep 'em shaded.”
“True enough,” laughed the farm pony. “Or at least I couldn't afford ta repair the windows all the time cause somepony has a hard time with the concept of doors!” She and Rainbow continued their good-natured snipes until Pinkie showed up.
“Hi, Dashie! Hi, Applejack!” she bubbled. “Great speech! I especially liked the part where you were talking!”
Applejack chuckled. “That was pretty much all of it, hon.”
“Exactly!” Pinkie bounced cheerfully. “I especially liked all of it! I like it whenever you talk, Applejack. You have a really pretty voice!”
Rainbow Dash flapped up into the air. “Hey, I think I see an old weather buddy of mine. I'll catch you two later!” She swooped low past Applejack's ears. “Beware of pudding!” she whispered to her as she passed by.
“What?” Applejack turned to chase Rainbow and demand an explanation, but she was gone in an instant.
Pinkie nudged her in the shoulder with her muzzle. “Speaking of talking... or should it be talking of speaking?” She giggled to herself. “There was something we should be talking and or speaking about. Let's spalk!”
That kiss. It was hard to believe that anything could have driven that kiss out of Applejack's mind, but the stress of two simultaneous harvests was apparently enough to make her forget. “Shoot, Pinkie, I'm sorry! With everythin' bein' like it's been this week, there just ain't been time ta talk to ya about that. I weren't tryin' ta avoid ya, I promise!”
Pinkie remained grinning. “It's a really pretty voice,” she said absently.
“Pinkie? Are you all right?” A whiff of alcohol made Applejack jerk her head back. “Pinkie, did you get into the wrong cider?”
The baker shook her head. “Nope! I got into the right cider. I got into the rightest cider ever!” She danced just slightly off the rhythm of the music and sang along, making up her own words as she went. “And it was really good cii—der! Pinkie put it insii—de her! Then she—um—met a spii—der! Nya na na na na ii—der! Dance with me, AJ!”
Applejack rolled her eyes. “Alright, sugarcube, yer right; we need ta talk. But this ain't a conversation I'm gonna have with ya while yer smashed. Let's get ya some water an' a bit of rest. Ya worked hard.” She put a hoof on Pinkie's withers and began guiding her toward the door.
“Ooh, are you taking me to bed?” Pinkie giggled and leaned against Applejack. “I'd like that!” She made what Applejack could only guess to be an attempt at bedroom eyes. She only succeeded in squinting her eyes shut and nearly running into a pony in front of her. Applejack jerked her inebriated friend back to avoid a full collision. This brought Pinkie even closer to her. Pinkie leaned her head against Applejack's orange chest and sighed. Applejack felt her cheeks grow pink as she felt Pinkie's warm breath on her coat.
“Geez, Pinkie,” muttered the farm mare, correcting Pinkie's course once again. “How much of the hard stuff didja have?”
Pinkie's shoulders shrugged beneath Applejack's guiding hoof. “I lost count after I ran out of hooves, so...” She twisted her face in thought. “...more than four. Hey, you wanna hear my theory?” Pinkie shook her head. “No, wait, it's a hypothesis. Twilight says it's only a theory if it's been tested. Wanna hear my hypothesis?”
“I got a theory that you need ta be watched closer around the cider barrels,” Applejack said.
“Hypothesis,” insisted Pinkie. “You have a hypothesis I need to be watched around the cider barrels.”
“I reckon I got plenty enough evidence here ta call it a theory.”
Pinkie giggled. “Anyways, my hypothesis. It's a hypothesis 'cause I still need to test it. That's what Twilight calls scientific rigor. Hehee, rigor.” She snorted like she had just said something very funny. “My hypothesis is about why you won't talk to me about what happened the other night ago.”
Applejack's ears folded back. “Pinkie, I—”
A pink hoof silenced her. “Shh. I'm spalking.” Pinkie snaked her hoof around Applejack's neck. “See, I think that maybe the reason is because you liked the kiss, too, but you're afraid that if you admitted it, you would be going back on what you said when we went fishing.”
Applejack's face burned bright red with a blush. “Y-ya think what now?”
“It's okay, Applejack,” Pinkie said, bringing both her forehooves to the orange mare's cheeks. “You were caught by surprise, nopony could blame you for not knowing how you really felt.”
Applejack tried to squirm out of Pinkie's hooves, but the mare seemed to have extraordinary coordination for a drunk pony, staying firmly latched on to her no matter which way Applejack twisted. “Alright, Pinks, you really need ta go home an' sleep this off.”
Pinkie leveled her eyes at Applejack's, bringing them face to face. “But like I said, it needs to be tested.” She lowered her eyelids and let her lips part slowly.
“Pinkie, what are you doin'?” Applejack tried to rear back, but could not get any leverage against her friend's advance.
“Testing,” she whispered, pursing her lips and craning forward.
“Pinkie... No... Stop!”
The party went silent except for the obliviously cheerful buzz of the phonograph and the sharp crack of an orange hoof slapping a soft pink cheek. All eyes fell on the sight of the two earth pony mares. Applejack stood with her forehoof still raised in the air, breathing heavily, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Pinkie sprawled on her hindquarters, covering one side of her face with a hoof. The side of her face that was visible gaped in shock.
Applejack tried to calm her breathing. She failed. Something warm and wet dampened her cheek as she turned and stormed out of the large wooden barn door.
*-*-*Pinkie*-*-*
As Ponyville's premier party pony, Pinkie Pie had knowledge of nearly every remedy known to ponykind for getting sober quickly. They ranged from the mundane cup of coffee to the truly bizarre, such as stuffing an exotic pepper in both nostrils while hanging upside down over a pool full of steamed beets—a feat only ever conceivable while drunk. While the methods varied widely in theory and application, they tended to follow a basic rule: the more unpleasant they were, the more effective they were.
Given that knowledge, it was no small statement to say that night Pinkie Pie had discovered simultaneously the most effective and absolutely least pleasant way possible to become sober. A lemon wedge dipped in rainbow sauce was said to make the town drunk shave his stubble and go apply to law school on the spot, but it was nothing next to being slapped by Applejack. Her cheek throbbed, her teeth stung and her ears buzzed. She had to hold her head steady to get her eyes to focus properly.
When they did, she found no orange mare standing before her. She twisted to see the door swing shut. “Applejack!” she cried, scrambling to her hooves. She bowled somepony over in her haste to reach the door. Any other time, she might have excused herself with an 'Oopsies!' or a 'Sorry, coming through!' but now she could not spare a thought for it.
What have I done, she thought frantically as the cool night air washed over her. The moon gleamed over her like a spotlight. The stars shone like thousands of judgmental eyes. What have I done? What have I done?
Pinkie spun around in the gravel, her eyes darting across the darkened farmland. A square of yellow light spilled out of the barn door behind her, shrinking into a sliver before disappearing entirely as the door swung shut on weighted hinges. The weather vane at the top of the barn creaked as a gentle breeze tugged at it. Shadows were cast this way and that by the moonlight. Pinkie could find no sign of any wide brimmed hat, nor ribbon-bound mane or tail. “Applejack,” she called aloud.
A quiet sound reached her ears. It was a small sound, a sad sound. It drew Pinkie over the crest of a hill into one of the freshly picked orchards. There she spotted Applejack leaning against a tree, back to her, her face buried in her hat. Her shoulders shook with a noise Pinkie could now identify as crying.
Pinkie felt her heart drop to her stomach. Applejack is crying. I've made Applejack cry. The idea of making somepony—anypony, let alone somepony she cared so much for—cry was so foreign to her, so contrary to her nature that she stood paralyzed, watching helplessly as the pony she loved wept into her hat. “Applejack...”
Applejack straightened her back at Pinkie's voice. She wiped her muzzle with a hoof and put her hat back on her head, but she did not turn to face her. Applejack muttered something, but it was too quiet for Pinkie to hear.
Pinkie took a hesitant step towards her. “What did you say, Applejack?”
The farm pony spun around and leveled a piercing glare at Pinkie. “I said, did it ever once cross yer mind ta ask me about any of this?”
Pinkie reeled back, thrown off balance by Applejack's sudden aggression. “What?”
“I mean, the mornin' we went fishin', ya never thought ta say, 'Hey, Applejack, ya wanna be my fillyfriend?' Ya jus' decided that we were datin', an' expected I'd be fine with it!” Applejack rose and took a step toward Pinkie, sending her backpedaling back up the hill. “An' then after the balloon, ya jus' decided a kiss would suit ya, so ya went ahead an' took it! No 'Hey Applejack, ya wanna pucker up fer a second?' Jus' bam, smooch, an' then ya run off into the night like some kinda mugger!”
“Applejack, I-I—” Pinkie stammered.
“An' then there's yer little performance tonight, well that jus' bout takes it!” The farm pony pawed at the ground angrily. “No, I can almost even excuse ya fer that one, you were drunk. But ya still weren't concernin' yerself with how I might feel about anythin'. It's still jus' Pinkie wants, so Pinkie takes! Ta hay with anypony else!”
Tears flowed freely from the corners of Pinkie's eyes. “Applejack, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, I just get excited, and I don't think, and I'm really, really sorry!”
Applejack scoffed. “The real kicker is that ya really are sorry, every dang time. Yer truly sorry fer hurtin' me, but ya don't understand that ya still ain't sorry for the whole reason ya hurt me in the first place. Ya ain't never gonna be sorry fer lovin' me.”
Pinkie's lip shuddered. “I can't help it! I tried, but I can't let it go!” She sniffed. “It hurts too much!”
Applejack huffed. For a few minutes, the only sounds were the rustling of leaves in the trees and the adrenaline-spiked breathing of the two ponies. At length, she gave a quiet chuckle. “Maybe ya jus' figured if ya kept at it long enough, I'd change my mind an' give in. Hay, I thought I was stubborn, but even I can't imagine puttin' myself through all this on purpose.”
Applejack doesn't love me... yet. Pinkie's silent mantra echoed in her head accusingly. Applejack had the right of it. Some part of her had hoped that she could have Applejack merely by outlasting her patience.
“Irony is, even if you're right, an' I misread my own feelings back on the morning we went fishin', it don't matter now. We've done a pretty thorough job of provin' we don't work as a couple.” Applejack shook her head slowly.
Pinkie's head sank. Her ears hung low enough for the grass to scrape against their tips.
“We don't listen to one another. We're too selfish to keep from hurtin' one another. If you an' I really were fillyfriends, every day we'd be as miserable as we are right now. I don't want that.”
Cold panic gripped Pinkie's chest once again. This time, she could not muster the courage to laugh it away. Her bones rattled inside of her. Her blood became ice. Every breath felt like the air was made of needles. “Please,” she blurted, “you have to forgive me!”
Applejack snorted. “An' why should I bother doin' that? Seems I might save myself some trouble by jus' stayin' mad at ya 'till the next time ya forget yer tongue belongs in yer own mouth instead a' mine. Keeps us both from repeatin' too many steps.”
“Please,” Pinkie blubbered, “I'll do anything!”
Green eyes narrowed coldly. “Anything?”
“Anything!”
“Pinkie promise it.”
Pinkie Pie drew her hoof across her chest, flapped her forelegs in the air and poked herself in the eye. “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye! Anything you say!”
Applejack's face grew as solemn as stone. “Pinkie Pie, I want you to find somepony else...”
Pinkie's eyes widened. “No...” she whispered.
“...an' get over me.”
“Applejack, no!” she pleaded.
“Ya Pinkie promised.” Applejack crossed her forelegs.
“I-I can't!”
“Ya have to,” the farm mare said. “As I recall, nopony breaks a Pinkie promise.”
Gravity spun around Pinkie. There was no backing out of a Pinkie promise. But it was something she just couldn't do. There was no such thing as getting over Applejack. There was only being with Applejack and being miserable without Applejack. Her world shattered as irresistible force met immovable object. She couldn't hold her balance any longer and collapsed on the ground. The stars swirled around the sky. The moon burned her eyes. A blurry orange shape stood over her.
“Go home, Pinkie,” said Applejack. Pinkie heard her hoofsteps grow fainter and fainter as the pony she loved walked away.
They were surrounded by waves. Puffy green waves made of leaves, full of juicy red apples. The two mares sat, orange and pink, on a grassy island surrounded by a sea of apple trees. The sun blazed overhead in a brilliant array of colors, seeming to overtake the entirety of the sky.
It's just a dream, she told herself, it isn't real.
The mares rested on their island in silence, watching the colors dance on the horizon. The barn floated past them like a rudderless ship, aimlessly drifting on the green tide. An apple bobbed and washed up on their shore, resting in the grass halfway between Pinkie and Applejack. Pinkie reached a hoof out to grab the fruit, but her eyes shot to Applejack and she retracted her hoof, leaving the apple to lay untouched. A flock of rainbow-plumed birds passed overhead, squawking and cawing.
It's just a dream.
“It's just a dream,” echoed Pinkie. She turned to face the other mare. “None of it is real.”
Applejack merely grunted in reply, her eyes fixed on some distant point on the horizon. A rooster emerged from the drifting barn and climbed to the top of the roof. He donned a triangular hat and began spinning the weather vane like it was a ship's helm. Slowly the structure began to change course.
Pinkie continued to stare at Applejack. “So, if none of this is real, how come you still can't love me even here?”
Orange lips moved, but no sound came from them.
Pinkie swiveled her ears. “Say it again,” she said.
“I do love ya.” The apple between them tipped and rolled over to Applejack's hooves. She blinked, and her eyes lowered to the fruit below her. “Maybe I have all the way from the start an' jus' didn't see it, I don't know.” She remained looking at the apple, as though she were speaking to it and not Pinkie. “The truth is, I see it now. I love you, Pinkie Pie.”
Pinkie Pie adopted a surprised look. However, it seemed like a well-practiced expression, like a part in a play she had rehearsed over and over again. “You love me? But why did you never tell me?”
It's just a dream. It isn't real.
Out across the leafy waves, Gummy emerged from the barn, wearing an eyepatch and holding a saber in his toothless maw. The rooster squawked and let the weather vane go, sending the barn drifting out of control once again.
Applejack lifted the apple off the grass, turning it over in her hooves. “Maybe I...” She took a bite of the fruit. A crunching noise echoed from far off. The entire dream was suffused with the flavor of apples. “Maybe I was afraid. Afraid of bein' wrong, or afraid that jus' bein' in love wouldn't be enough. Afraid of us both gettin' hurt exactly like we did anyway.” She blinked in confusion as she found tears tumbling down both cheeks.
Pinkie moved forward and gently wrapped her hooves around Applejack. “It's okay to be scared,” she whispered soothingly. “You know what to do when you're afraid, don't you, Applejack?”
Applejack sniffed and shook her head. “What?”
The pink mare stared directly into Applejack's green eyes. She took the apple from her and took a small bite. Pinkie's mane bounced as a soft snort pushed its way out of her muzzle. “Hee,” she snickered, a joyful grin spreading across her face.
Applejack looked on, perplexed, until a chuckle built its way up in her own throat. “Ha, ha-ha, ha...” The two mares' laughter built into a crescendo, sending them rolling on their tiny island in fits of giggles. They pointed and burst into raucous guffaws as they watched Gummy and the rooster chase each other around the barn roof in some kind of high seas swordfight. They gasped for breath as each mare made funny faces at the other. Applejack pounded the ground and begged for mercy as Pinkie dove into the leafy sea and came up with an apple stuffed in each cheek.
It's just a dream. It isn't real... But it is kinda nice.
Pink lips pressed against orange lips. They were just as soft, just as sweet as she remembered them being. The laughter died down as a pair of green eyes locked with a pair of crystal blue. This time, Applejack kept smiling. Pinkie grinned back and the two peppered each other with kisses and giggles, basking in the bright sun on their island in the apple sea.
…
Applejack let out a sharp gasp as she shot out of bed. Cold sweat pasted her mane to her brow as she sat bolt upright. She sucked air into her lungs and fought to bring her racing pulse under control. She squinted at the window to the side of her bed. The moon still hung high in the night sky.
Applejack buried her face in her pillow and groaned. Every night for the past week now, ever since the end of applebuck season, she'd had the same dream. She wanted to believe that it was just all the stress and her trouble with Pinkie manifesting itself in her subconscious. It couldn't possibly mean what she thought. Right?
The chirping crickets outside gave her no answers. This is plum silly, she thought silently, propping herself up in her bed. She grimaced as she noticed she had once again forgotten to take her hair ties out before bedtime. Applejack tugged on the red bands with her teeth. I meant what I said ta Pinkie. I wouldn't tell her no lies, not about this kinda thing.
She had not seen Pinkie since that fateful night. She'd half expected the pink pony to show up at her farm the very next day, grinning like nothing had happened and begging to drag her off on some new adventure that was surely not another thinly veiled date. Perhaps a training run to prepare for the Running of the Leaves. Or maybe she would offer to help set up for the coming cider season.
Applejack caught herself smiling as she imagined all the non-dates Pinkie might try. She put double effort into keeping the corners of her mouth in check. Pinkie hadn't come the day after the party. Or the day after that. Pinkie had finally listened to her, and she wouldn't be having any more of this nonsense. That was what Applejack wanted, right?
Then why do I feel as rotten as a mug of Flim an' Flam's cider? Pinkie hadn't come by the farm this week, but neither had Applejack visited the bakery. She had plenty of excuses not to, of course. With the harvest in, there was plenty left to be done with the inventory, preparing and selling the new zap-apple jam, and getting the cider press working.
But Applejack did not abide self-deception. Excuses were just that, excuses. She was more than able to leave that stuff in her family's hooves for a while and head into town. As if she needed more evidence she was avoiding Pinkie, she had sent Apple Bloom to take Winnona to the weekly pet playdate she usually shared with her friends, just to avoid running into Pinkie. The truth was, Applejack was afraid to talk to her again. She was afraid of looking her in the eye and seeing how much damage had been done to their friendship.
It's okay to be scared... The memory of her dream echoed in Applejack's head.
Now that she thought about it, Applejack hadn't had a chance to really sit down and think since this whole mess had begun, two weeks ago when Pinkie wanted her to go fishing. She couldn't believe it had only been two weeks. So much had happened, it felt like two years. Fishing, the zap-apples, that kiss...
Applejack felt her lips with a hoof. She wasn't conceding anything if she admitted that Pinkie had been a good kisser, right? Granted, her previous experience with kisses had been goodnight kisses from her elders and one nervous peck on the cheek from Fancois once—immediately followed by a complaint that she needed to wash her face better. Pinkie's kiss had been something entirely more than Applejack had thought kisses were capable of being. Still, that didn't count for anything, did it?
That line of thought sounded suspiciously to Applejack like trying to convince herself of something. What exactly am I tryin' to deny, here? Only with clarity of thought could she avoid the pitfalls of self-deception. She counted up all the things that she had been trying to push from her mind tonight. The kiss. The dream. The things Pinkie would do to get close to her. Pain at the thought of how bad Pinkie must be hurting.
She stopped to think on that last point. It really bothered her that Pinkie was hurt. More than simply wanting her friend to be happy. It actually hurt Applejack to know that Pinkie was upset, and as much as her fear of seeing that hurt on Pinkie's face again kept her hooves rooted to the orchard, that fear only barely eclipsed her urge to run to Sugarcube Corner and take it all back. Not because she didn't mean it—she did—but because she couldn't take the thought of causing the mare pain.
So, what did it all add up to? Applejack sighed and rolled onto her back, hugging her pillow to her chest. She could admit to herself she had enjoyed Pinkie's kiss on the night of the balloon ride. She found she missed seeing what inventive ways Pinkie would get around not dating her in order to effectively date her anyway. She couldn't stand the thought of how badly Pinkie must be hurting. And there was the things she herself had said to Pinkie in her dream. Really, there was only one reasonable conclusion.
“Horsefeathers,” she muttered as she stared at her bedroom ceiling. “I think I do love her.”
*-*-*Pinkie*-*-*
On the night of the party, when Pinkie Pie got home to Sugarcube Corner, she laughed. The Cakes thought it sounded like crying, but what did they know? They weren't the Element of Laughter. Pinkie shut herself in her room so she could laugh by herself. She laughed hard. She laughed until her voice cracked and her eyes were red and puffy. She hugged Gummy tightly and laughed loudly into her pillow. Pinkie laughed herself to sleep that night.
The following week, Ponyville saw a sharp decline in its frequency of parties. Though Pinkie's friends—except for one of them—came by Sugarcube Corner every day to try and comfort her, she made little effort to leave the bakery. For the most part, she spent her time either baking in the kitchen or locked up in her room. She even missed her weekly pet playdate with her friends, which upset Gummy so much that he almost blinked both eyes at once.
The long and short of it was, Pinkie was a miserable pony. Her friends tried all kinds of things to cheer her up. Rainbow Dash moved her flying practice so that she could do her tricks outside Pinkie's window. Pinkie closed her blinds. Twilight brought over a stack of sappy novels from the library's romance section. The books were left untouched. Not even cuddles from the hutch of baby bunnies Fluttershy brought with her could make Pinkie crack a smile.
It was finally Rarity's unusual idea that managed to draw the depressed mare out of the bakery.
Pinkie raised an eyebrow in confusion. “You're trying to cheer me up by sending me to the dentist?”
“Well, you needn't actually cheer up, dear, though we all wish you would,” Rarity explained, “but you will smile, at any rate. The dentist can't do her job if she can't see your teeth.”
Pinkie felt her teeth with her tongue. Her teeth hadn't gotten enough sunshine lately.
“Besides,” the unicorn continued, “it will do you some good just to step outside for a little bit. Your mane is starting to go limp from all the stale air, darling.”
Pinkie ran a hoof through her mane. Sure enough, it wasn't quite as poofy as it usually was. “Do they have those spells that make your face go numb and make you talk funny?” she asked.
Rarity smiled hopefully. “Why, it would be positively barbaric if they did dental work without anesthetic spells on hoof. Now, I talked with Doctor Colgate, and she said she would be delighted to see you today. All you need do is show up.”
Pinkie frowned in hesitation. She glanced back at her room. Little bunny paw prints tracked around the floor and over the stack of books Twilight left. A small gap in the blinds revealed a brief prismatic flash as Rainbow continued her routine outside. “You girls have been doing a lot for me this week,” she said.
“You're our friend, darling,” said Rarity. “No matter what happened between you and Applejack, we want to see you smile. She does, too.”
The pink mare flinched at the mention of Applejack's name. A week was not long enough for the pain to fade. Pinkie was not sure if even a year would be enough, or a lifetime. She took a deep breath. “Okay, Rarity. I'll go to the dentist.”
Rarity clapped her hooves together. “Excellent! She is ready for you whenever you get there, so let's get going! Oh, wear this scarf, darling, it's a bit chilly out there today.” She wrapped Pinkie in a light blue scarf and donned a purple one for herself.
Ponyville architects were fond of visual literalism. Sugarcube Corner was built to look like it was made of sweets. The Carrots' farmhouse looked like a giant carrot. There were always exceptions, of course, like Twilight's oaken library, but for the most part a pony could tell at a glance what the purpose and function of any given structure in town was. The building shaped like a giant tooth made it easy enough to guess where the dentist's office was.
A blue unicorn with a blue and white-striped mane stood at the door, waving cheerfully as Pinkie and Rarity approached. “Welcome!” she chirped, “I'm glad you could make it!”
Rarity waved back. “Of course, darling. Is everything ready?”
The dentist nodded her head. “The chair is all prepped and ready to go.”
“Good.” Rarity turned to Pinkie. “I have a few errands to run while you're in there, dear, but I'll hopefully be back by the time you're done. Will you be okay?”
Pinkie nodded.
“Glad to hear it.” Rarity faced the other unicorn again. “You will charge this visit to my account, won't you?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you. Now, I must be off! Ta ta!” Rarity trotted off into town, leaving Pinkie with the dentist.
The dentist smiled. “Why don't you come in and have a seat, Pinkie?”
The interior of the dentist's office smelled very clean. The white walls were covered with certificates, diagrams of teeth and posters reminding patients to brush every day. There were three partitions. In the front was a small waiting room with an uncomfortable looking couch and a few magazines. In the back was an even smaller office, with a desk buried in cluttered files and papers. Between the two was the main operating room, where a light brown dentist's chair stood on a swivel, surrounded by lights and the sharp instruments of the trade.
Pinkie looked at the plaque on the desk. It read, 'Doctor Minuette.' She tilted her head. “Are you Dr. Colgate, or Dr. Minuette?” she asked. “I thought Rarity called you Dr. Colgate.”
The dentist laughed. “My name is Minuette. Colgate is a nickname some of my colleagues came up with. It's, well, it's a bit of an inside joke.”
Minuette had a nice laugh. The barest hint of a smile formed at the corners of Pinkie's mouth. Almost as nice as Applejack's. The smile went away.
Dr. Minuette levitated a wooden tongue depressor. “Open your mouth, please?”
“Aah.” Pinkie did as she was told. The tongue depressor poked at the insides of her cheeks and lips.
“Hmm,” the dentist said as she peered into Pinkie's mouth. She removed the wooden implement and scratched some notes on a notepad. “How does a pony that eats as many sweets as you do have so few cavities?”
Pinkie wet her lips. Tongue depressors had a way of drying her mouth out. “Oh, I always brush twice a day and floss regularly.”
“Marry me!” Minuette giggled. “Seriously, I try to tell all of my patients how important it is to brush and floss, but you're the first one I've had that actually does it!”
Pinkie shrugged. “Making ponies smile is my special talent. It'd be hard to do that with yellow teeth.” Her eyes drifted to Minuette's flank. She was surprised to see an hourglass there rather than something dentist-y like a tooth.
Dr. Minuette followed Pinkie's gaze and smiled. “I like to make ponies smile, too. But not everypony's job directly relates to their special talent,” she said. “I can tell you that right now it's exactly eleven oh five and twenty three seconds.”
Pinkie looked around the room. There were no clocks on the wall anywhere. “That's pretty neat.” She gasped. “Hey that's why you're always on time for my parties!”
Minuette grinned. “You noticed! I love your parties, Pinkie. I've yet to see one where there's anypony not having fun.”
Pinkie's ears drooped. “Oh. You weren't at the last one, then, were you?”
“Why? What happened?”
Pinkie shook her head. “Nothing.”
Minuette frowned. “Okay, well, if you wanna get up on the chair, we can get started.”
Pinkie Pie climbed onto the dentist's chair. The plastic squeaked and stretched as she reclined.
The dentist strung a cloth mask over her muzzle and leaned over Pinkie. The overhead light cast pools in her deep blue eyes.
Find somepony else... an' get over me.
“Are you?” Pinkie asked. “Married, I mean,” she added when she saw confusion sweep over Minuette's eyes.
The mask muffled the unicorn's laugh. “Oh! No, I'm quite single. Incredibly single, in fact.”
Nopony breaks a Pinkie promise.
“Hey, before we start,” Pinkie said, “can you do me a favor?”
“Sure! What do you want, Pinkie?”
“Could you take your mask off and smile for me?”
Minuette blinked in confusion for a few moments. She reached up with her hoof and tugged her mask off, letting the corners of her mouth slide up. The light gleamed off her white teeth. Her lips curved up in a neat little bow. Dimples formed in her blue cheeks and her eyes shined brightly.
“You have a nice smile,” remarked Pinkie, settling her head against the top of the chair.
“Hey,” said Minuette, pulling her mask back into position. “That's supposed to be my line!” Her horn began glowing and Pinkie lost feeling in her cheeks.
*-*-*Applejack*-*-*
The Cakes were two of the nicest ponies Applejack knew. Whenever she made delivery runs to Ponyville to supply the town's various shops and restaurants with fresh apples, Sugarcube Corner was usually her favorite stop. Applejack would get to ask them how the twins were doing, how business was going, and the like. Mr. Cake would always help her unload the apples, and Mrs. Cake would never let her leave without taking a cupcake.
Applejack was unprepared to catch death stares from both of them when she walked into Sugarcube Corner. It was outright disquieting to see Mr. and Mrs. Cake scowl at her as though she had just kicked an orphaned foal in the street. Even the twins glared at her from their playpen.
Applejack coughed into her hoof. “Uh... howdy.”
“What do you want?” snapped Mrs. Cake. Her nostrils flared.
It was understandable, Applejack supposed, that the Cakes might be upset with her. Pinkie was like family to them, and Applejack had broken her heart. A sharp pang of guilt accompanied that line of thought. “Is Pinkie in?” she asked.
“I don't think she wants to talk to you,” Mr. Cake grumbled.
Applejack's ears pressed against the sides of her head. “I reckon not,” she admitted. She pulled a sack full of bits out of her saddlebag and set it on the counter. “Listen, Pinkie forgot ta pick up her earnin's last week. Can ya see to it that she gets these? An' could ya tell her...” Applejack paused, rolling the words around in her mouth. Tell her I love her. “...tell her I'm sorry. Could ya do that, please?” The farm mare turned around. She felt the Cakes' eyes on her as she walked out the door, but she did not turn her head to watch their expressions. She felt she could not take any more hostility from the ponies she admired.
Applejack shivered. There was a harsh bite to the air outside. The weather pegasi were moving a cold front in anticipation of an early snow. Applejack was not certain why they needed an early snow, but she was assured it was 'complicated weather stuff' by Ponyville's weather captain.
“Teeth in Minutes.” A voice from behind made her jump. She spun around to see Rainbow Dash perched on the roof of the bakery.
“What are you on about?” Applejack asked the pegasus. Though she wasn't always sensible, Rainbow Dash usually at least said things that made sense. Spouting things at random was, well, more of a thing Pinkie would do.
“That's where Pinkie is,” explained Dash in an annoyed voice as if it should have been obvious. “Doctor Colgate's place, Teeth in Minutes. Rarity took her there to cheer her up.”
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Rarity's takin' her ta the dentist ta cheer her up?” Maybe she had messed Pinkie up worse than she thought.
“That's what I said!” Rainbow Dash flared her wings out and dropped to the ground. “But I guess if watching me do my most awesome tricks won't do it, you need to start getting crazy.” Dash's grin slid into a more serious expression. “Hey, you're going there to make up with her, right?”
The orange mare hesitated before giving a small nod. “Yeah, I think that's the plan.”
Dash's playful smirk returned. “Good.” She beat her wings against the chilly wind, hovering above Applejack. “I owe you a beating for making Pinkie cry, but I'll hold onto it for now. Can't make up with a black eye!”
Applejack chuckled darkly. “Mighty considerate of ya.”
Rainbow Dash took off into the sky. “Yep, that's me!” she called back. “The Element of Considerateness!” Soon she was nothing more than a rainbow streak against the clouds.
Applejack let her eyes fall back to Ponyville. Her hooves began carrying her across the cobbles. It took her a while to find the right direction to go, since she did not go to the dentist quite as regularly as she should have, but before long she spotted the big white tooth rising among the houses and shops. By the time she reached the door, Applejack was beginning to regret not bringing a scarf with her. Her cheeks began to prickle in the cold wind.
Her hoof rose to push the door open, but she stopped. What the hay do I think I'm doin'? she asked herself. She was about to barge in and confess her love to a mare that she had yelled at only a week ago for doing essentially the same thing. The hypocrisy of her intentions made her sick with herself.
What exactly do I expect ta happen? An image of Pinkie dropping everything and leaping into her embrace bubbled to the top of her mind. Applejack dismissed it as incredibly unlikely. Another image of Pinkie shaking her head and growling that she was tired of being jerked around struck her as far more realistic.
She'd had her chance. At any point up to the night of the party, she could have told Pinkie she changed her mind, that she would love to give a more serious relationship a chance. Now it was too late. She had done too much damage already, and it wouldn't be right to ask Pinkie to just forget everything she had said that night.
But Applejack couldn't turn away from the door, either. I do feel somethin', an' it's real, an' it won't jus' go away if I don't talk about it. She suddenly knew exactly how Pinkie had felt when she was begging her to go fishing or riding in a balloon with her. The frustration, the anxiety, the sting of that tiny flicker of hope that, even though everything around her shouted 'no,' there might be a 'yes' buried somewhere.
There ain't a chance in Tartarus this'll end the way I want it, Applejack told herself. Even if it somehow does, it ain't somethin' I deserve. Her hoof lowered to the ground and she began to turn away from the door. But maybe... Maybe it's worth reachin' out for, anyway.
Applejack sqeezed her eyes shut and pushed the door. The little bell at the top of the doorframe jingled. “I'll be with you in two minutes and thirty three seconds,” called a voice from the next room. The voice was accompanied by a drilling noise.
The farm pony opened her eyes. The dentist's office was precisely what she would have expected it to look like. Ridged carpet tickled the bottoms of her hooves, while a warm tingle at the tip of her muzzle reminded Applejack how cold she had been outside.
Applejack knew she should probably wait for the dentist to finish. That would be the sensible thing to do. But she had let Pinkie go on hating her for a whole week, and she couldn't bear to let it go unaddressed for another minute. “Pinkie?” she called.
“Abblezhack?” Even with half her face paralyzed, Pinkie Pie's voice was unmistakable.
“Pinkie, please hold still,” said the dentist. The drill whined and buzzed as she tried to reposition it.
Applejack entered the operating room. She found Pinkie lying back on a chair while the dentist held a sharp drill in her magical grip. Pinkie's cheeks were swollen from the anesthetic spell cast on her. A paper napkin was wrapped around Pinkie's neck to catch flecks of spittle as the doctor worked. The unicorn raised her eyes to Applejack in annoyance. “Ma'am, if you could please wait in the lobby, I can see you in one moment.”
“Pinkie, I need ta talk ta you,” Applejack said, ignoring the dentist.
Pinkie's eyes shifted between Applejack and the dentist. “Camb't talk. Drilligg teef.”
Dr. Minuette, apparently resolving to finish her task despite the interruption, nudged Pinkie. “Please don't move your jaw,” she said, adjusting the overhead light.
“Then jus' listen,” Applejack said. “I was wrong. At the party, I was upset, an' I made it sound like everythin' was your fault. It ain't. I'm just as much ta blame.”
“Turn your head a little to the left,” said the dentist. Pinkie kept her eyes on Applejack as she complied.
“Ya kept comin' after me because I kept lettin' ya think there might be a chance somehow. I didn't think that's what I was doin', but I was.” Applejack sniffed as warmth returned to the tip of her nose.
Dr. Minuette squinted her eyes as she held her drill in Pinkie's mouth. “Almost done,” she said.
“The thing is, I think I kept lettin' ya think there was a chance for us because I wanted there ta be a chance. I didn't think there was one, so I kept sayin' no, but maybe somewhere deep down I liked the thought of what we might be if it did work out.”
“Just a little bit more,” said Dr. Minuette. Little bits of saliva spurted off her drill as she worked.
“The truth of the matter is, I love ya Pinkie. I didn't think I did when ya first asked me, an' I was too afraid, or maybe jus' too darn stubborn ta change my answer later, but I'm sayin' it now. I love you.”
“And... done!” Dr. Minuette jerked her drill back and scooted away as though she thought she was risking life and limb by coming between the two mares.
Pinkie laid on the chair, staring up at the ceiling. Her chest rose and fell as she took one deep breath, and then another. After a while, the sound of a chuckle began building up in her throat. It spread and grew in volume until it was a full laugh that shook her whole body. It wasn't her usual warm, cheerful laugh, but a cold, hollow one. “Thapt's funny! Yer funny, Abblezhack!”
Applejack swallowed hard. “I ain't jokin', hon.”
Pinkie wiped a tear from her eye. “No, now you weally wuv me! Hee hee...” She clutched her sides as she heaved with laughter. “They should gib my elembent to you!”
Dr. Minuette coughed into her hoof. “If you two would like some privacy, the lobby in front is great for that. Much better than, say, back here.”
She may as well have been invisible for all the heed the two mares paid her. Pinkie tapped a hoof on the edge of the chair. “What d'you wabnt from me, AJ? I hab some lepftober balloons ipf you wabnt.”
Her sarcasm stung. Pinkie never said anything purposely hurtful before. Applejack bit her lip. “I wanna offer you what ya been askin' for, Pinkie. I wanna give 'us' a chance.”
“Too wlate,” said Pinkie, shaking her head. “I pwomised.”
“Pinkie, ya don't have to—”
“You mbade me Pfinkie pwomise!” Pinkie's eyes narrowed sharply. “ 'Pfind sombony else and get ober you,' rembember?”
Applejack's ears folded against the back of her head. “I didn't—”
“Hab you met Dogtor Mbinuette?” She pointed a hoof towards the retreating dentist. “Her demptisht fweinds call her Colgate 'cause her mbane looks like toofpaste. She awways knows what time it is, and she has a weally nice smile.”
Dr. Minuette's eyes widened and she waved both her forehooves. “Whoa. Hey. I'm just here to clean teeth. I'm not part of this!”
Pinkie threw an exasperated hoof in the air. "Mbut there I go again, deshiding fings wiffout ashking ponies about it pfirst. I cgan't eben rebound wright!"
“Do ya love her?” challenged Applejack.
Minuette went pale. “Hey, I just realized I have a whole lot of paperwork and dentist-y things to do in my office, so I'll just be in there, locking my door. Um, please don't start throwing things, this equipment is expensive!” She bolted into her office in a blue and white streak.
Applejack kept her steady gaze on Pinkie. “Well? Do ya love her?”
Pinkie worked her mouth silently. After a heavy minute of hesitation, she hung her head. “No.”
“An' do ya still love me?”
Another long pause. “...Yesh.”
Applejack took a step forward. “Does it really need ta be any more complicated than that?”
“I-I Pfinkie pwomised—” Pinkie began stammering, which was further exacerbated by her numb lips.
“Ya made a promise to a pony that don't wanna hold ya to it no more,” said Applejack. “That ain't a promise ya gotta keep.”
Tears welled up in Pinkie's eyes. “Mbut you were wright, at the pawrty,” she said. “We'll just mbake each ovver sad. I dun' wanna mbake anypony sad, 'specially not you.”
“I ain't gonna lie an' say there's no chance of that happenin'. We've both proved we're more than capable of hurtin' one another, especially when we're tryin' our hardest not to.” Applejack took another step. “But I am gonna say it's worth the risk. If it all blows up in our faces, at least we can say we tried. At least we'll have given it one shot, together.” She held out a hoof to Pinkie.
Pinkie stared at the offered hoof. Her tears trickled over numb cheeks to drip from her chin onto the floor. She raised her eyes to meet with Applejack's. “Hey, Abblezhack?”
“Yeah, sugarcube?”
“Can you smbile for me?”
The orange face remained still. “Make me.”
A soft light sparked in Pinkie's eyes. Slowly, deliberately, she reached out and grabbed Applejack's hoof with her own. The farm pony helped pull her out of the chair, resting her forehoof on Pinkie's shoulder to steady her as she regained her balance. Applejack positioned herself to face Pinkie directly.
Her freckles were the first parts of her face to move. They slowly climbed up her cheeks like they had unattached themselves and started exploring the rest of her face. Next came her eyes. Applejack's lower eyelids raised ever so slightly as her stretching cheek muscles pulled. Small wrinkles formed just behind the corners of her eyes. Her lips parted, revealing two rows of even, white teeth. The corners of her mouth stretched upwards, not so far as to appear forced, but well past the point of any kind of subtle, restrained smile. Applejack did not wear a smirk or a grin. She beamed with a full-on, honest-to-Celestia smile.
Pinkie giggled. “You hab my fabvorite smile.”
Applejack pulled her close, wrapping her foreleg around her. “You gave it ta me.”
The two mares curled into an embrace, pink and orange hooves sliding past one another to wrap themselves around each other's torso. Applejack's snout tickled as she buried it in a mass of curly pink hair. “Hey, sugarcube?” she said, pulling back to look Pinkie in the face.
“Hm?”
“Ya think ya can pucker up for a sec?”
“Y'know, I donmp't fink I can.” Pinkie squinted hard as she tried to squeeze her lips into something resembling a kissable position.
Applejack laughed. “That'll have ta do.” She leaned forward and wrapped her lips around Pinkie's.
Applejack's lips were still cold and chapped from the wind outside. Pinkie could not feel anything between her cheeks and the tip of her muzzle. Even so, it was the best kiss either of them had ever had, real or dreamed.
The bell sounded as Rarity pushed her way inside. “Are you done with your appointment, darling? I brought you some yogurt to snack on for the trip back. You need something good and soft to eat after—Oh, my!”
Pinkie and Applejack broke their kiss. Pinkie looked over to Rarity and grinned. “Ooh, what flabvor?”
*-*-*Rarity*-*-*
Rarity did not like to brag. Okay, that was a lie. She enjoyed a little bit of well-deserved ego stroking every once in a while. But she still preferred to preface her assertion that she 'knew it all along' with a disclaimer that she did not mean to sound boastful. It would be unbecoming of a lady to go on about how she called it from the beginning. Squealing and giggling like a filly from sheer excitement, well, that could not be helped.
“Won't you tell me where the two of you are going?” Rarity begged. “I would be able to design more appropriate attire for you if I only knew the venue!” Pinkie sat before her with curlers in her mane. Applejack was in the corner locked in furious battle with the zipper of a dress. The three of them were in Rarity's boutique.
It was the day after Pinkie's visit to the dentist. All things considered, Dr. Minuette had been remarkably understanding about her dentist office becoming the setting of an impromptu couple's therapy session. Rarity made certain to add a fair stack of bits to her payment for her trouble.
Pinkie shook her head. The curlers wobbled with the motion. “It's a secret,” she said, grinning.
“Besides,” Applejack added, grunting as she tried to give the zipper a tug. “It ain't somethin' ya really need a dress for.”
“No, no, no, no, I absolutely insist, darlings. This is your first date,” she said. Her scissors hung suspended in the air as she put her hoof to her chin. “Well, your first official date, anyway,” she amended. “If the two of you don't look positively radiant for it, then I am failing as a friend!”
Rarity levitated two pieces of fabric over Pinkie's coat. One was an airy sky blue to match her eyes, while the other was a deep red to complement her coat and mane. They both would go equally well on Pinkie. She turned to hold them up against Applejack's orange. Definitely the red, she thought, tossing the blue aside.
“Hang on.” A sudden, terrible thought struck Rarity. Her pupils shrank. “You aren't planning on going fishing again, are you?” She threw her hooves protectively over the nearest rack of her dresses.
Applejack laughed and picked up a pair of netted stockings. “Hey yeah, I reckon we could catch plenty a' fish with these things!”
Pinkie giggled. “They would work great!”
Rarity snatched the stockings away in a blue glow. “Don't even joke about that! Just because they're called fishnet stockings doesn't mean that's what they're for!”
“Don't worry, Rarity,” said Applejack, grinning. “We ain't goin' fishin'.”
“Yeah, Mr. Bearington is all better now, and Fluttershy says it's better for him to catch his own fish when he can!” Pinkie bounced in place.
Reassured that her dresses would not end up smelling like a slimy trout, Rarity immediately snapped back into dressmaking mode. She faced Pinkie Pie. “I realize this may be a futile request, dear, but could you try and hold still for a moment?”
“I can try,” said Pinkie. To her credit, she managed to remain motionless for a full five seconds before she started bouncing again. “Nope! Can't do it, I'm too excited! I'm going on a date with Applejack!”
Applejack gave up on her zipper, letting her dress hang open as she trotted up next to her new fillyfriend. “I think I got this,” she said, placing a hoof on the side of Pinkie's cheek. Rarity blushed as her friends shared a deep, passionate kiss. Pinkie hung limp, a dopey grin on her face as Applejack pulled back. The farm pony wiped her muzzle and raised her eyes toward Rarity. “Ya got about a minute. Work fast.”
Magical stitches were tricky, and they did not last as long as physically sewn seams. They also had a chance of turning the dress into a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight, though Rarity suspected Pinkie would see that as a bonus rather than a problem. At any rate, Rarity did not have the time to cut and fit all the pieces of a normal dress, so her horn flashed a bright white. The square of red cloth fastened itself around Pinkie and formed artful ruffles and hem-lines. In a moment's time, there was a dress where there had only been cloth before. Rarity wiped a bead of sweat from her brow as she released the glow from her horn.
“Wow...” Applejack's mouth hung open as she stared at Pinkie. Rarity allowed herself a satisfied grin as she watched the farm pony take the sight in.
Pinkie's eyes fluttered and she looked down at herself. “Hey! I have a shiny dress!” She spun around a few times trying to see herself from behind.
“Oh, the curlers!” Rarity grabbed the curlers and released them from Pinkie's mane and tail. The locks of pink hair held in graceful loops and curves for a fraction of a second before springing back to their frizzy default. Rarity grimaced, grabbing a brush from the table. “One of these days, Pinkie dear, I will find a way to make that mane of yours behave!” She ran the brush through Pinkie's mane, more to make herself feel a bit better than to actually tame the mass of pink curls.
Applejack threw her hoof over Pinkie's shoulder. “Alright, Pinks, ya ready ta go?”
“Oh, no you don't!” Rarity said, levitating the dress with the zipper Applejack had given up on. “Now it's your turn, darling.” A glint shone in the corner of her eye.
Applejack gulped. “Oh, that's okay, Rarity. I was thinkin' maybe I can dig up my old work duds. Or maybe the Gala dress. That'd work, wouldn't it?” The orange mare began backpedaling until she hit the wall. “Uh, Rare? Whatcha doin' with that dress? An' those needles?” Rarity began to cackle. Applejack's eyes widened. “Aw, hayseed!”
Some time later, two exceptionally well-dressed mares emerged from Carousel Boutique. The orange one fidgeted with the hem of her skirt while the pink one waved back at their friend in the doorway. “Thanks Rarity!”
“It was entirely my pleasure, dear,” Rarity called back. “You two have a good time at... wherever you're going!”
Applejack nodded. “I'm sure we will. Have a good night, Rarity!”
“You as well!” She closed the door.
…
Rarity waited a full minute before covering herself in a black cloak and sneaking out the back door of her shop. She did not want to snoop—okay, fine, she did not want to get caught snooping—but she could not help herself. The mystery of just where her friends' secret date would take place was just too enticing. Besides, she justified to herself, I must see to the safety of my dresses. Rarity stifled a giddy squeak of excitement as she lurked in the shadows.
Keeping enough distance from them to avoid being seen, Rarity followed her friends through town. They walked directly past the flower stalls in the market, which were closing up for the night as the sky grew dark. They did not stop as they passed the restaurants that dotted the downtown district of Ponyville. Rarity held her breath as they came to the front of a theater advertising a showing of an old romantic play, one of her favorites, but Pinkie and Applejack kept walking, paying it little more than a glance.
The buildings and houses thinned around them, and the road faded from cobbles to dirt. Rarity recognized the road out to Sweet Apple Acres. Puzzlement mixing itself in with her curiosity, Rarity hastened to a canter to keep her friends in sight.
The two mares stopped at the entrance to the apple cellar. Rarity crept up until she was close enough to listen in on them.
“So why exactly did this have ta be a secret?” asked Applejack as she tugged the wooden door open. “It ain't like it's all that excitin' of a destination. In fact, that was kinda the whole point.”
Pinkie giggled. “Exactly! This way, Rarity can think we're off on some adventure at some fancy place! Didja see how excited she was for us? She's probably picturing us at a table in a Prench restaurant right now!”
“I never much cared fer Prench food in Manehattan. I don't 'spect it tastes much better now.” Applejack leaned against the cellar door. “Still, do ya maybe s'pose we ought ta be someplace fancy? It ain't too late ta head back into town.”
Pinkie brushed her head up against Applejack's neck. “You're here. That automatically makes it the best date ever! Besides, this is a date idea absolutely guaranteed not to end suspended in a basket over the Everfree forest!”
Applejack chuckled. “I reckon there's a pretty low chance of that at a play, too.”
“You never know!” said Pinkie, trotting down into the apple cellar.
Applejack followed her in. “I s'pose not. Ya wanna be x's or o's?”
As the cellar door closed, Rarity sat alone, bewildered, in the darkness. After a few minutes she straightened her cloak out and turned back down the road to Ponyville. They are having a nice dinner at a Prench restaurant, she decided as she trotted back towards home. They are most definitely not playing tic tac toe for their first date!
*-*-*
It would be nice to say at this point that Applejack and Pinkie Pie lived happily together from then on. It would be nice to say that the night of the party after the zap apple harvest was the lowest point in their relationship, and it only got better from there. It would be nice, but it would not be true, and Applejack would never abide an untruthful account of what happened.
Neither of them were perfect ponies, and love did not change that. Pinkie was still sometimes more grabby than Applejack was comfortable with, and Applejack could be too emotionally distant for Pinkie at times. Applejack sometimes felt Pinkie was too impulsive, and Pinkie in turn sometimes worried Applejack did not take her seriously. In the years that followed, they had fights. They shed tears.
But they were very stubborn ponies. They were too stubborn to let a few tears drive them apart. No matter how much it hurt at times, they would push on together. They were both determined to be together, and there was no force in Equestria that would dare challenge that. Love was worth it to them, and ponies as stubborn as them would never let it go.
