> Do You, Now?
>  by blue harvest
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> Dolls and Manes
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        It's a damp, gray afternoon. Muddy puddles splash beneath my hooves, addin' to the bone-bitin' chill in the air. All this mornin', it's been drizzlin' somethin' awful. I can't even get my freshest apples to the market on account of the sky rainin' cats and dogs. It's kind of funny that the pegasi have been ordered to leave the Ponyville weather alone, on account of the yearly dragon migration that could be happenin' anytime soon.

        Also, 'cuz of them darn dragons, the town has forced a curfew tonight for safety, which only ruins the appointment Granny had made weeks ago with the rest of her "red bridle" mare friends this evening. Celestia knows the whole family hates it when ol' Granny gets down in the dumps over the simplest of things. If that weren't all; turns out Big Mac is down with the pony flu. Apple Bloom's whinin' and moanin' about a canceled field trip at school or what-not. Winona's got a nasty itch on her rump. And on top of all that, my left front hoof is achin' mighty fierce, and I can't schedule a checkup with the local farrier to save my life.

        Yup. All things considered, it's been the ugly end to a long week of misery.

        And yet I can't stop smilin'. I'm thinkin' of you.

        I'm thinkin' of you: of yer devil may care swagger, of the little flicks yer colorful tail does when yer secretly excited about the joys of life, of the way you never make a fuss about yer mane and somehow it always glistens just right in the spring sunlight. I'm thinkin' of the crack in yer voice that never seems to wear itself thin, that always squeaks at the edge of sayin' somethin' either stupid or smart-like, as if ya can never hush the happy little schoolfilly that rattles between yer lungs whenever yer around me.

        I reckon yer like a puppy in a lot of ways. Mmmm... That really is a mighty strange thang to say, come to think of it. Heck, when Winona was just a pup, she was wonderful to take care of and all, but she could never clear the sky for me—kickin' loose both the clouds over the farm and the ones in my noggin'. She could never make me angry and happy at the same time, making me wanna wrestle her and cuddle her all at once. She never gave me such amazin' surprises, little things that made me feel like I was startin' life all over again, like she was teachin' me to fly—just like you have given me wings.

        Awww shucks. It's a good thing yer the one who's always yappin' when the two of us are around. Who would wanna hear me goin' on and on like a dag-blame'd fool? I ain't no poet. Here I am tryin' to paint a picture around this smile you've got plastered on my face, and all I can do is compare you to a sheep dog. T'ain't proper. Guess it's a good thing I'm keepin' it all beneath my tongue.

        I didn't used to do this, y'know: thinkin' to myself, that is. I do it all the time now. When the day-to-day chores and dull routine of life have got us split like the fine earth beneath a plow, it's all I can do to keep my hat on, I swear. I like to imagine you trottin' next to me—well, I know ya better. You'd be flyin' the whole time, not darin' to touch the ground with them petite blue hooves of yers. Heck, we both know how sensitive they are. Eheheh...

        I wonder why I do it. Am I just practicin' for what I'm gonna say to you at the end of the day? Am I tryin' to pile together the words like a young filly gathers firewood before the sunset? I swear, everythang's a contest between the two of us, even the most normal of gabbin'. It's like we're both chompin' at the bit to prove that one's day was a heck of a lot more spectacular than the other's.

        You always win, of course. One way or another, you convince me by dinnertime that yer day's been a nonstop hailstorm of 'awesome.' I learned long ago just to grin and bear it; t'ain't worth gettin' you all red in the face by declarin' my day any more interestin'. I don't mind it one bit, though. When night falls, and the moonlight washes over yer flutterin' eyelashes like a silver duvet, and I'm holdin' you close to me as slumber does its worst to my happy lungs, I sure as hay ain't feelin' like no loser.

        I wonder what we're gonna talk about tonight? I bet fifty bits you'll be moanin' yer colorful little head off about how "lame" it is that the Ponyville Weather Commission's got you grounded on account of a bunch of dragons. You'll swear left and right that you could take on over two dozen of the dragons with yer bare hooves. Apple Bloom will gasp and ask you if you've ever taken on dragons before, and you'll start this amazin' story over supper's meal—all hogwash, of course—but as much as Granny Smith will roll her eyes and Big Mac will pretend to not be interested, they'll all be sharin' the same smile, though it won't be as warm as mine.

        Yer pretty darn predictable, ya know that? Even before all this wonderful nonsense between us started, I could predict every little thang you did or said. I guess that's the curse of loyalty, ya reckon? Other ponies knowin' just words or actions you have up yer sleeves? But that's all good. I always expected yer loyalty, sugarcube. It's yer love that's done thrown me for a loop, and thrown me somethin' fierce.

        All of the sudden, there's a cold splash of mud, and I'm brought back to the miserable gray mess of this dismal day. How long have I been marchin' in a straight line like this? There's nopony in the streets but me. Every now and then, I see a colorful equine shape runnin' from building to building, fightin' to stay dry. Otherwise, the roads are empty as a cemetery at sunup. I must look like maniac, trotting down Ponyville like the lone survivor of a terrible cyclone or somethin'.

        Truth is, I gots someplace to be. Rarity promised she'd have my old, worn saddlebag stitched up somethin' proper by today. That silly, fru-fru mare may be a tad bit full of herself from time to time, but she's always punctual when she does somethin' generous for her friends. I suppose I could have waited until tomorrow to make this trip. I could have waited until an afternoon that wasn't muddy or miserable or full of puddles. Truth is, none of it bothers me. Nothin' bothers me all that much anymore.

        I guess this is what it means to be in love with somepony. I always thought that ponies were spoutin' a bunch of hooey when they went on and on about true love and such. I mean, sure, I took enough stock in love. Ma and Pa were head over hooves for each other, and I'm here because of them, ain't I?

        It's just that I've had my head so full of takin' care of this farm and buckin' apples for so long that I never really had that much room for lovey-dovey stuff. I always thought that it'd get in the way of things. Truth be told, it really, truly does. But there's somethin' about it that frees my soul all the same. And you could never guess my shock when I realized how much it was freein' your soul too. You—of all ponies, the last mare who would ever allow her free-flyin' self to get bogged down by a relationship—chose me.

        Well, heck, I guess I was the one who chose you. Or, at least... heh... you made it seem as though I chose you. You and yer gosh-darned "hard to get" schtick. I should have just thrown mud in yer eye, like this slosh that's splashin' beneath my hooves right now. But somehow you would have taken it, and hassled me even more until I broke down—so you could break down too—and then we'd be hankerin' to pick up the pieces together.

        I suppose that's what we're still doin'. How long has it been? Six months? Seven? Heavens to Betsy! How have we not managed to strangle each other in all that time? I suppose what really nailed it was when I finally got ya to move in with the family. Not that it was anythang too dramatic-like a change, of course. You were already stayin' over four times a week. Heh... and you keep callin' me a "silly pony."

        Still, things could stand to be a tad bit less... oh, I dunno... goofy? The family's warmed up to you all good and proper. You know that. But that doesn't change how... well... secretive this whole thang is. And why should it be? Yer the last pony to be afraid of anythang. And me? I'm... well... I'm... I'm...

        Dag nabbit. You were right. There's nothin "easy" about it. Who am I to constantly bend yer ear about the whole thang? We both know it's only a matter of time before the girls all find out about the two of us. They should be the first to know, really. But how long are we gonna keep puttin' off tellin' them? It's gotta be done, and it's gotta happen sooner than later. We both know this. We both know it's best they find out—that someponies we trust find out before the rest of the town discover us... I dunno... nuzzlin' each other like honeymooners behind the woodshed or some nonsense.

        And just what's the use in hidin'? It's not like what we have—what we've grown together like a fine orchard—is gonna be any less special once all of Equestria knows about it. Sure, it might be a tad bit awkward, but so what? You and I have jumped crazier hurdles before. We've each earned our blue ribbons in this ridiculous rodeo called life. Heh. Well, at least this time we have each other to lean on.

        What's that little diddy you was always tellin' me? "It isn't so bad so long as you close your eyes at first, AJ?" Well, I trusted in you, and soon enough—you were givin' me tours of the night's sky like I was a third wing of yers. I know that's a silly example to be makin', but this is just as heavy a leap of faith, only this time I'm gonna need you to trust me. I suppose it's easy for a pony like myself; me bein' the Element of Honesty and all. I just need a good dose of Loyalty to follow me off the cliff, cuz—I promise you—there's a mighty strong tailwind waitin' for us beneath it all, darlin'. Besides, you ain't the only mare who's capable of carryin' the other. And I sure do love holdin' you close, sugarcube. You know that. You know—

        Oh! Well, will ya look at that! Carousel Boutique! I sure do get lost in thinkin' about you these days, don't I? Celestia help me when it's Apple Buckin' Season again; I'm liable to kick cows and milk the trees. Whew-weee!

        I sure hope Rarity's awake right now. That pony's confessed time and time again how much a rainy day can put her to sleep. Shucks, if I slept half as much as that eye-painted dressmaker, half the orchards would have rotted over the past summer alone. Guess I won't know if this whole rainy trip was worth it until I ring the doorbell—

        Awww shoot. My hooves are muddier than a fat hog during cider season! Hmmm... I'm sure Rarity's front yard has a hose around here somewhere. Ah! Here it is. Brrrrr... that's some cold water! Still, better get these hooves clean. Nothin's worth gettin' an earful of her crazy fussin'.

        Heh. I actually remembered somethin' polite before visitin' Rarity for once. Guess yer not that terrible a distraction after all, sugarcube. Heck, just where are you today anyways? If ya ain't clearin' the clouds and if ya ain't trainin' for them "Wonderbucks" and if ya ain't helpin' around Sweet Apple Acres, just what is yer pretty blue keister up to?

        I'll be sure to ask you tonight, among other things. Hopefully I won't be havin' some ridiculous story to tell about my stoppin' by Carousel Boutique. Celestia help me; if that mare tries to rope me into havin' my mane re-conditioned... ahem.

        I ring the doorbell. "Rarity?!" I holler, if only to raise my voice above the pitter-patter of the dull, gray rain. "Rarity, I'm awful sorry to bother ya. Didja finish fixin' my saddlebag together? If ya can just fetch that for me, I'll be outta yer hair. I was on this here side of town anyway."

        I don't expect her to come to the door right away. Rarity always does take her sweet time movin' a single inch. She's constantly fiddlin' with a skirt or straightenin' a sleeve or some other such nonsense. I've known Rarity to make a pony wait five minutes before she so much as replies.

        But somethin' is... different, this time. No sooner am I done speakin' when I hear a nervous tumble from inside the Boutique. Goodness! Has she tripped over somethin'? No... no, her hoofsteps are even now. They're quick little thuds, as if she's gallopin' like a war horse straight for the door. As a matter of fact, if my ears are as sharp as they usually are, I'd guess that she was about to—

        The door flies open, followed by a pair of blue eyes flashin' wide. Then, with a dainty squeak, she shuts the entrance halfway and leans forward at a ridiculous angle. She must think she's blockin' any chance I have of seein' into her Boutique now. But what for? What's she hidin'?

        "Oh! Goodness me! Appleja-a-a-ack..." She speaks with a flighty laugh in her throat. When I first met her, I wanted to buck her too the moon at the slightest hint of that noise. Now it just makes me wanna guffaw. "What brings you here... to Carousel Boutique... at this hour... in the rain?"

        Now I plum know she's hidin' somethin'. Rarity doesn't get breathless for no reason. Seein' as how none of her fancy Canterlot patrons are trottin' by, I suspect she's gettin' the vapors cuz of me bein' here unannounced.

        "Didn't y'all hear me earlier when I said I was fixin' to fetch my saddlebag—?"

        "'Y'all?'" Her tongue goes crooked with the effort it takes to imitate the drawlin' sound. "What do you mean by 'y'all?' 'Tis only me, Rarity, the most fabulous unicorn in all of Ponyville!" She gulps. "Alone... with her genius, of course. Eh heh heh."

        I raise an eyebrow. "Right..."

        "So, you wish to procure your saddlebag! Absolutely! Why, I just finished sewing it back to good health overnight! You just wait right here while I go acquire it from over yonder—"

        "Actually, do ya mind if I step in for a second?" I give her my daintiest smile. I reckon it must look like a spasming grimace in the freezing rain. "I don't wanna be rude n'all, but it's cold enough out here to freeze an antler off of Discord's stony head! Brrrrr!"

        "Oh, but... Applejack!" She winces as if in labor. "It's so terribly muddy outside! Not to be a bother, but surely you know how much I like to keep this Boutique sparkly-clean—"

        "Actually, I done washed my hooves clean already."

        Rarity blinks. "Oh." Her exhalation is like a muffled gunshot. "You did?"

        "Just now!" I beam proudly, lifting a hoof for her to take a gander. "See?"

        Her blue eyes glitter from reflecting the spotless limb. "Oh... I... I-I did not expect this." She's bitin' her lip. And her body is... trembling? What in Tartarus' waiting room is goin' on here? "Uhm... m-most certainly, my dear friend! You may travail upon... entering the foyer..."

        "Well, alright—!" I smile and trot foward—

        She hisses my way in that little growlin' voice I can hardly stand. "Just give me fifteen seconds!"

        I stand in place, blinkin' at her like a rabbit in the middle of a wagon trail. "Uhhhh..."

        She darts back through the entrance in a snow-white blur. I hear an awful racket: fumblin' and metal hooks rattlin' about and such. Soon the entrance to Carousel Boutique creaks slowly open, and a white hoof is motionin' me to march inside.

        So I do, glancin' left and right as if Timberwolves might come pouncin' out of the walls at any second. Instead, I see a whole heapin' lot of... nothing. It's the same ol' Boutique with the same ol' tile and the same perfumed air and the same dull gray curtain blockin' my view of the rest of the place and—wait, what in tarnation?

        "What in tarnation?" I squint curiously towards the thick sheet of gray fabric. It's still swayin' in an invisible breeze—a sign of havin' just now been flung across the edge of the foyer. "You doin' construction or somethin'?"

        "Oh!" she chirps, dramatically restin' a hoof over her brow as she teeters besides me as if sufferin' a stroke. "If only it was somethin as simple as that! The truth is, Applejack, I'm terribly behind on finishing an outlandish number of dresses, and, in their current state of disarray, they are simply too dreadful to even look at!" She gazes at me with a pouty face, her eyelashes battin' like they're fightin' back a swarm of mosquitoes. "As a fellow craftspony, you can understand, yes?"

        "Reckon so," I stammer, still cranin' my neck for a peak beyond the curtains. Her grinnin', alabaster face is stretchin' to block my view. "Uhm..." I gulp and murmur nervously, "I sure hope that fixin' my saddlebag didn't throw a big, rusted wrench into yer works."

        "Ohhhhh don't be silly, Appleja-a-a-ack!" she coos, waving a hoof. She exhales heavily, wiping the sweat from her brow, as if relieve to have thrown loose any trailing suspicion floatin' around in my head. And that's how I know that she's completely flat-out lyin' to my freckled face. "I can only blame my poorly planned schedule on the sins of a starving artist! Trust me: I shall most definitely get this work done in time. I simply need to make a few last-second alterations, and I'll be finishing these gowns for Hoity Toity in no time!"

        I squint at her. "Hoity Toity?"

        "Affirmative."

        "I thought you done finished yer commissions for that neckerchief wearin' yahoo last week."

        She blinks. "You remember that?"

        I glare.

        "Oh, but of course, you remember that!" She grins, though there's a spastic twitch to her right eyebrow. "That's simply because I told you! Ahem..." She leans back, not so stealthily sliding an exposed inch of the curtain shut. "Well, it so happens that he had... erm... an extra dozen dresses that he forgot to request! I just got the missive about it this morning by air mail!"

        "Air mail..."

        "Mmmhmmm!"

        "What—with the Dragon Migration takin' up the airspace n'all?" I lean my head to the side, tryin' to look around the edge of the curtain's him. At first, I didn't give a hill of beans over what was on the other side of the Boutique before, but I sure as heck am curious now. "Wasn't that a mighty bit dangerous?"

        "Oh, well, you know how those rich, Canterlot customers are. Eh heh heh—Friends in the right places..."

        "Uhhhh—"

        "So, you just stay right here, Applejack," she barks rather loud-like, backtrotting through the curtain like a pale log rollin' downhill. "And I'll go get that saddlebag for you, Applejack!"

        "But what—?"

        "You're such a good friend for understanding!" she sing-songs from the far side of her domain, her voice growing more and more distant beyond the curtain. "For staying put inside the foyer!"

        "Hrmmmm..." I stamp my hooves down while clenchin' my teeth all pouty-like. "If there's somethin' I can't stand for..." I mutter to the walls of that rain-pelted place. "It's bein' corralled into the corner like some hay-munchin' cow..."

        I tilt my hat back and crane my rain-slick ear towards the curtain. I hear a shufflin' noise, like somepony's tryin' hard to keep from tapdancin' in an ocean of fleas. That's how I know that there's another soul inside Carousel Boutique, and whoever it is—she's three times as twitchy as Rarity and myself combined. She's also somepony whom Rarity's tryin' to keep me from knowing is here.

        Now, I like to think of myself as a polite pony. Shucks, I was raised to be a good, respectful mare. Country hospitality and such. But nothin' gets me more riled up than a pony lyin' to my face. The only thing dishonesty is good for is hurtin' friends' feelings. And I've never been one to let things sit around in the dark and turn rotten. Somepony's gotta cut things off at the head, and that pony has always been me. I like to think that at least Twilight respects that, and that's why I've always been an important part of this little posse we've formed. Ponies can trust me and I can trust them. Shucks, I'd hate to see any cracks form in the foundation we've all layed down. I don't care how fancy the ruse.

        "Rarity, y'all gotta forgive me..."

        I bravely march through the curtain, trotting loudly across the tile into the warmly-lit heart of the Boutique.

        "But I gotsta know what's goin' on around here. I sure do hope ya have it in yer heart to..."

        I freeze in place, blinking, for a pair of eyes are starin' back at me, and they look an awful lot like yer eyes. As a matter of fact, they are yer eyes, but there's somethin' wrong with them. Why, they're positioned at the front of the most splendid, shimmerin', ruffled wedding gown I've ever seen and... and...

        "...buck me." I whisper dryly into the rain-bent air beneath the tall windows. I gulp a lump down my throat.

        "Uhhhh..." yer little voice cracks, and that's how I know it's you, and that's also what keeps me from grabbin' the nearest sewing needles and jabbin' them into my eyes so that I can wake up from this splendid nightmare, this horrible fantasy, this... this... just what in the hay is this? "H-hey there... uh... AJ..." Something bright and colorful flicks anxiously from beneath the cascading rivulets of white satin, and I realize it's yer tail. Such a daring snake it is, an alien diamond in the rough of pale, pale sheets. It's like a pearlescent white cloud is givin' birth to color before me, and it's framin' yer nervous, darlin' smile. "I... uh... I swear. This isn't what it looks like."

        "What..." I stammer, still reelin' as if a bucket of apples has shattered my skull. "Just what does this look like?" I squint, leaning forward. "Yer wearin' a dress."

        "Ugh... I know..."

        "A... wedding dress?"

        "I know... I know!" You face-hoof with a dramatic groan. The lace sleeves of the ridiculously ornate gown follow you with a delicate flounce.

        "Nnnnngh—Nonono!" A hoarse, whisperin' hiss shoots from the adjacent hallway, followed by a lunging Rarity. "How many times have I told you, Rainbow, to stay perfectly still and—" She flashes a startled look at me. "Oh my stars and garters!" Rarity howls like a cat in heat, her eyelashes threatenin' to pop loose. "Applejack! Did I or did I not tell you to wait up front for me to return with... with..." Channeling angry magic, she spins my saddlebag in the air like a white flag of surrender. "This?!"

        "I'm sorry, Rarity. I just couldn't help it. But if I had known it was this..." I begin speaking, but I can't end it. I'm too busy with somethang, and I can't tell if it's laughin' or cryin' or gaggin' or all three at once.

        All the while, yer rollin' yer eyes. I see yer wings droopin' through the holes of the snow-white gown. Wait... was the blouse even stitched to fit yer feathers? "Rarity, just chillax. So she sees me. It's no big deal—"

        "Alas, Rainbow, I have failed youuuu!" Rarity caterwauls, sliding on her joints before you while sobbin' into her criss-crossin' forelimbs. "What kind of a friend am I when I cannot keep one measely little secret, even after you have so loyally assisted me without grumbles or complaints?!"

        "I said it's fine! Sheesh!" You groan. Suddenly, you start shrugging your shoulders and retreating into the gown like a turtle slidin' into its shell. "Here, how about we take a break and—"

        "No!" Rarity is suddenly standin' before you, shrieking with a furious pulse to her blue eyes. "You shan't move an inch! We are too far into the process for you to shake that gown off now! Otherwise..." Her lips quiver as her voice takes on an awful, sobbin' pitch. "...the dress will be ruined! Utterly ruined!"

        I'm glarin' something awful at this point. "Will somepony please tell me what's going on?"

        "Unngh... Look, there was no other option, okay?" You say, givin' a placating smile to all the fabulous unicorns who might be in the room. "Rarity needed some help with this stupid dress and I happened to be flying past her window and—"

        "It is most certainly not a 'stupid dress!'" Rarity exclaims, stiflin' a growl. "It is my latest masterpiece! It is the one thing Ponyville's newest couple needs to complete their priceless nuptials!"

        "Get out'o'town!" I gasp, givin' Rarity a shocked glance. "You mean this here dress is for—"

        "Yes!" Rarity tilts her head up in the haughtiest pose I've seen a mare take. "This most exquisite gown is for none other than Raindrops, Ponyville's local expert on precipitation! It just so happens that Rainbow Dash and Raindrops have nearly perfectly matching physical proportions."

        "Perfectly matchin' what-now?" I drawl.

        "She means we have the same body," you drone.

        I turn. I blink at you. A curve comes to my lips. "No y'all don't."

        "Heh..." You smirk, shrugging in that ruffled, ruffled gown. "That's what I told her! And she was all—"

        "Hisssss!" Rarity is in yer face, her teeth clenched together. "It is imperative that you remain perfectly still! I command you!"

        "Aaaaaa-aaaaughhhh..." You tilt yer head back. It's all you can do to keep from tossin' yer cookies. I should know.

        "So, as you can see, Applejack, this was a fashion emergency and Rainbow Dash—loyal as always—was swift to help me." Rarity turns towards me with a cool, elegant expression. "And I felt that it was in her best interest that I keep all of Ponyville from finding out how she's... erm... sacrificing her 'coolness' in the interim."

        "Look, the damage has been done, Rarity," you say with a soft—albeit plum tuckered smile. "Don't sweat it. So what it Applejack knows?"

        "So what?!" Rarity turns and glances at you with doe-eyes. "You would much rather dunk your head in a lake than allow anypony to see you in such elegant attire!"

        "Yeah... but..." You shift. I see yer fuzzy blue ears twitchin'. This means, in less than a few seconds, bulbs of sweat will be formin' on yer temples. Rarity doesn't know this, of course. "It's fine. Believe me. Applejack's..." You gulp. "We're cool. Really..."

        "Hmmm... I suppose we are..." Rarity thinks aloud, then passes her icy glare along to me, chillin' me more than the afternoon rain ever could. "Provided we're all in accord on keeping this a secret..." Her eyes gloss over with frigid menace. I didn't even know that was possible until now. "Isn't that right, Applejack?"

        "Uhm... You betcha!" I exclaim, my teeth chatterin' like the dickens. "Rainbow Dash playin' dress-up? Ha! When did that ever happen?!"

        "Splendid!" Rarity chimes, once again carryin' a sing-songy tone. I wish she'd marry the band and march on out of here already. "Then now that we have that settled, allow me to give you back the saddleback I promised! You should find that the pockets are all double-stitched after—" She freezes, suddenly gaspin' at a corner of the work satchel. "Good heavens! A thread is loose!" Her voice takes on a pathetic, squeaking pitch. "How could I of all ponies have left a thread loose!"

        "Oh... uh... I'm sure it's fine, Rarity." I reach for the saddlebag with an orange hoof. "S'long as y'all got the holes patched up and—"

        "Perish the thought!" she hisses, clutchin' the thang close to her palpitatin' chest. "I promised you perfection and I shall deliver unto you perfection! Wait here for just a moment longer, and I shall be back swifter than a Manehattan sunrise!"

        She trots up towards the other room, and soon the whole Boutique echoes with the sounds of her fancy-shmancy sewin' machine.

        "Well, now..." I trot over towards you. I gaze at your face, at your sad expression, at your dull ruby eyes enshrined by a netted veil—are ya wearin' a veil! Holy smokes, you are! "Just how're you holdin' up there, s-sugarcube?" My voice breaks under a snickerin' breath.

        "Yeah, yeah," you grumble, wheezin' a bit, as if yer lungs are bein' squeezed by a horrible bodice beneath the satin jumble. "Laugh it up. Ughhhh... how do I get roped into these messes?"

        "You've been roped into worse things, y'know," I say with a wink.

        The redness to yer cheeks makes a delightful contrast to the gown. "AJ... there's a time and a place, and this sure as heck isn't it..."

        "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be standin' all pretty upon the altar."

        I swear, yer scowl could cut glass. "Look, I'm just doin' this for Rarity because she asked! Have you ever done something stupid because it meant a lot to another pony?"

        "I'm sure I could pick a memory if I wanted to." I say with a grin. "But it wouldn't be nearly as wild as this." I wink as I reach forward to fluff them ridiculous shoulder sleeves. "Yer the best friend a pony could ever ask for, sugarcube."

        "Don'ttouchthesleeves!" you hiss like a certain fashionista we both pretend to know.

        I jump back, my heart shudderin' big time from that tone. "Erm... pardon me..."

        You wince, as if immediately sorry for snappin' at me. "Rarity's spent two hours on the shoulders alone."

        "Ouch. Really?"

        "Yeah. I dunno how she can stand to... to... to be into this kind of stuff! I'm bored out of my skull here, AJ! You have noooo idea how much will-power it takes for me not to stretch my wings! All I wanna do is hover around a bit. Is that too much to ask?! Does Raindrops' dress really mean that much?"

        "Yer legs must be awfully sore," I say, tryin' not to smirk. I fail, and a snicker or two slips loose. "We both know how s-sensitive those hooves of yers are—"

        "H-hey!" yer voice cracks. "Shuddup!"

        "Heheheheh..."

        I watch as you groan, tryin' not to collapse or else risk wrinklin' that fine gown into a mess. "The sad part is the lengths Rarity went to in order to keep you from finding out what I was doing here for her." You fidget, avoiding my gaze—the whole Boutique's "gaze" as you glance down at the folds of the skirt. "She really wanted to avoid my reputation gettin' ruined."

        "Awwwww..." I remove my hat and smile at you. "Well, come to think of it, that was awfully sweet of her."

        "It would be a lot simpler if... well..." You fidget some more. "Y'know..."

        "Know what?"

        You almost glare at me, but the expression wilts into a soft squint. "If she knew about us."

        I nod quietly, then murmur back at you. "Y'know, she very easily could."

        "Ughhh..."

        "All it takes is just tellin' her the truth. Rarity ain't dumb. She'll put two and two together and figure out what you and I have been up to the past few months—"

        "You know how much she gushes over... over..." You grimace, roll yer eyes, and say through a tired smile. "Over mares who've found their special someponies..."

        "So? Let her gush! Let all our friends gush!"

        "Well, what if that changes things?"

        "Like how? We've been over this—"

        You flash a look towards the adjacent room as you whisper aside to me, "Applejack, I like my friends because I know who in my life I'm supposed to be loyal to. What if the truth changes things so much that—like—I can't even recognize them anymore?"

        I sigh, fiddling my hooves over the edges of my hat. "I seriously doubt you'd have any trouble bein' loyal to Rarity, Twilight, and the others."

        "That's easy for you to say, AJ. You're all about Honesty. It's—like—built into your head to tell the truth to everypony. Problem is, life isn't always that smooth." A shudder flows through you, shakin' the tresses of the gown. "I-I've been there before." You gulp. "There are things that—once they fall apart—they just can't be put back together, no matter how awesome or cool you are."

        I bite my lip as I gaze at you. There's a hole in your past—a shadow so great that even you can't guide me through that darkness, no matter how hard you've tried. And I know—in so many nightly conversations and hugs and moonlit tears—you really have tried, sugarcube.

        "Oh, sugarcube..." I drift towards you, my forelimbs apart. There is nothing I want more now than to just hold you and—

        "Applejack," you grunt. "The dress."

        I freeze upon the brink of the unthinkable. "Uhm... r-right..." I drift back, feeling as though I'm rippin' a limb off through the hesitant gesture. "I wasn't thinkin'..."

        "But you were feeling." You say with a painful smile. "That's totally a good thing. For reals."

        I smile back at you. Leanin' my head forward, I say, "But Twilight and the rest—we ain't like the ponies you used to know back in Cloudsdale."

        "I know... I know..." You say, shuttin' those soft eyelids of yers. Yer makin' it real hard to stand so far away from you like I am. "And that's what makes you guys so special n'stuff." You open those eyes, and it stabs me with delight just to see 'em sparkle. "All the more why I don't want to risk things too soon."

        "I won't rush you, sugarcube," I murmur with a sweet smile. "But I really do think yer bein' a touch bit too worrisome, even by Rarity's standards."

        "So sue me," you grunt. "Being in this stupid gown is throwin' off my groove!"

        "What? Never thought you'd ever be in a wedding dress?"

        "Pffft—As if! I really don't get why ponies put themselves through this craziness! I mean, love is great and all—heck, in fact, it's super! But it's meant for your entire life, y'know! Why put so much weight on one day of lousy ceremony? Why, if I had a bit for every pony who fretted from sunup to sundown about trotting down the aisle—"

        Yer talkin' to me. Shucks, you might as well be singin'. Nothin' could mesmerize me more, could add any lesser or greater a chorus to this sweet, sweet soundtrack. I guess I never really thought about it before; never put two and two together in such sugary, mathematical jubilation. There's more scrumptious color to ya, sugarcube, more than I thought there was. There's more to ya than the crack in yer voice or the twitch in yer sensitive hooves or the foalish flick of yer tail.

        There's somethin' that encompasses you, that paints a picture opposite to the sky meltin', cloud kickin', sun meltin' stunt mare that wows the folks of Ponyville day in and day out. Yer the idol of the whole town and a precious little present for me all the same. I've always known this, felt this, cuddled this to sleep at night. What I've never sensed, never felt, never tasted was the fact that somethin' so special, so amazin', so paradoxical and awesome as you could be laced together so pretty-like in such a darlin' little package.

        And suddenly, I'm not standin' here. Instead, it's five and a half months ago. We're sittin' on the crest of a hill atop Sweet Apple Acres. Everythang's fragile and sweet, like frost on the east fields. There's a full moon overhead. Yer tellin' me things you've never told me before, things you've not shared with another soul in years. I realize that there're parts of you that can never hold together, though you spend every day strugglin' to make it all seem like a clean portrait. There are tears that beg to be shed, and so I let you. And somethin' that was standin' in the way of our souls collapses suddenly in a burning heap, and you fall through it. I catch you, I hold you, I cradle you, and I know that my life will never again be the same. You've planted somethin' in my heart, darlin'. It's somethin' tiny and fragile and trusting, and six months later it's sprouted into this: a smile that can bring shine to a gray, rainy day. For it's taken more than yer hooves and yer wings and yer high flyin' stunts to clear the skies of my life. It's taken yer trust, yer sacrifice, a vow of understandin', and I don't know just where I would be without it, without you, without this.

        And it is oh so pretty—like a doll. I would hold it—hold you—and whisper it sweet nothings forever, for even if all else that we pretend to hold dear was to crumble away, I would still be here to catch you. 'Cuz, every now and then, even the sky has to fall from time to time. I know this is the truth, because nothin' can make my heart beat like this, nothin' quite so darlin' and unassumin' all at once, nothin' quite as right as this here, as you in this dress, as me standin' just a few inches and closin' the distance with my—

        "Uhhh... AJ?"

        I blink.

        "Earth to the earth pony? Yoohoo!"

        I blink again. There's an invisible wind through the Boutique, and I realize to my flushin' chagrin that I'm fannin' myself with my hat. "Uhm..."

        "The hay is goin' on?" You frown. "Were you listening to a single word I've been saying?"

        "Uh... s-sure I have, sugarcube!" I gulp and plant the hat backwards over my blonde mane. "You sure hate weddings and honeymoons and stuff!"

        Your eyes are thin, ruby daggers. "That was two minutes ago. I was talking about the Wonderbolts just now."

        "The Wonderbucks? What about them—?"

        "Ugh! Why are you even here?!"

        "The saddlebag. Shucks, what's taking Rarity so long?"

        "Look, I'm about to climb the walls here, so why don't you talk about something instead?"

        "Uhhm... I... uh..." I gulp, for I am totally not staring at the length of the dress and how preciously tiny it makes you look in the sea of all that silk—

        "Applejack?"

        "Huh? What? Yes?"

        "You zoned out again."

        "I did?"

        "Yes."

        "Really?"

        "Seriously, is something the matter?" You raise an eyebrow. "You're starting to freak me out."

        "I was... just thinkin'..." I reach a hoof up and brush some of my bangs out from under my hat. I feel how hot my face is. It's practically scaldin'. "Maybe we should go... shoppin' sometime?"

        You blink. "Buh?"

        "Er, what I mean is..."

        "Shopping? Uhhh... Applejack, do you even know who you're talking to?"

        "Oh... I don't mean a total splurge or whatnot, sugarcube." I shrug. "I figured—what the hay—it's been an awful long time since you and I have gone out on the town—"

        "AJ, we've never been 'out on the town,'" you say, then fidget nervously, avoiding my gaze. "J-just the two of us, that is..."

        "Well, there's always a first time for everythang, ya reckon?"

        "Uhhh... Okay."

        I blink at you. "Really? 'Okay?'"

        "Well, what else am I gonna say?" You smile awkwardly. "If it makes you happy, then it'll make me happy too."

        "Huh... alright then..."

        "Maybe we shouldn't... y'know..."

        "What?"

        "Pick a day that's too crowded—"

        "Oh, heck no!"

        "Right..."

        "I wouldnt put y'all through that..."

        "Even if we were..." You pause, blink, then squint at me. "Just what would be shopping for?"

        "Oh, who knows..." I fidget with my hat, looking at you, not looking at you. "I dunno..." I gulp dryly, my eyes circlin' like a tornado until they rest awkwardly on your face. "Mmmm... maybe a dress or two."

        "Pffft—Ha! Like you would ever be caught dead wearing a dress—" You freeze, and that's when I know that you know.

        I'm already wincin'. Wincin' hard.

        You stare at me, at the hem of the gown, then at me again. "Wait a minute..." Your voice comes out in a dry squeak. "Don't tell me... you like seeing me in a dress?"

        "Uhm..." I tongue the inner curve of my teeth, rocking left and right on my hooves. "Well..."

        You raise a hoof, feeling the lacy material flounce. You give me the mother of all cockeyed smirks. "Really...?"

        "Well, I reckon it's... er... nothin' all that much to shake a stick at—"

        "Well, that goes without saying but..." Your words linger, as does your gaze... falling by the wayside as the distant sound of Rarity's sewing machine finally grinds to a halt. Soon, she will be marchin' back into this place, and this sanctuary won't be such a sanctuary anymore, though the prettiness will remain standin' there in that gul-durn dress. Gul-durn it. "Huh... That's weird."

        "Is it really?"

        "Er—I didn't mean to say that—"

        I'm smirkin'. I don't know why, but some invisible table has fallen over and I'm trottin' smoothly through the empty space left over. "Is it any plum weirder than you fancyin' my mane bein' untied?"

        "Whoah! Whoah! Hey—whoah..." You grit your teeth and glance nervously towards the adjacent room as a trotting shadow approaches. "Exnay on the Manesnay."

        "Don't be sweatin' now, sugarcube," I murmur your way. My breath is a warm wind, and yer flyin' through it. "Ya dun wanna ruin Raindrops' perfect dress. Rarity might kill ya."

        "AJ..." You murmur, you squeak. You're starting to tremble. I know I'm not the only one who finds this moment so horribly delicious, for yer lickin' yer lips as you whisper, "Just what do you want from me?"

        "Why, the truth, darlin'. Do you like my mane untied?"

        "Applejack, seriously, can we pick this conversation up later—?"

        "Well? Do you or don't ya?"

        "Darn it, Applejack!" You stomp your hoof in the wedding grown. You tilt your head up towards me. "I do!"

        The poetry of the moment is lost to you, just like the last few inches between us, devoured in an instant as I bring my lips to yours. I swear, the intensity in yer bulgin' eyes could light Equestria for months under a ruby haze. I feel yer pulse through our mouths, punctuated by a timid shiver that runs up your fuzzy blue face, ending at your flaring nostrils as I lean back, murmuring the breath that you now have no choice but to inhale:

        "Well played, sugarcube."

        Yer mouth lingers, hanging open, as if yer uncertain what you should be gaspin' for—air or understandin'. But then it washes over you like a cold, afternoon drizzle: this gorgeous little piece of pageantry, in which a piece of the sky has once again been offered unto me, a sweet sacrifice dolled up far more prettily than even Rarity could ever manage. And, oh, how it tickles me to see that redness flushing over you as the stuntmare peers back at the cliff that she's just plum fallen off of.

        I wink, straightenin' my hat as my shadow crosses over you one last time. "And as for our 'conversation,' I'll be waitin' at home for ya, darlin', so we can finish it..." I fling my ponytail over my neck, allowing you to see the red tie as I throw a wink in its orbit. "...together." I grin. "Be sure to make it back by curfew. There be dragons, ya reckon?"

        "R-right," you squeak. I can tell how hard your heart is beating from the twitch in yer wedding veil as the blushing bride drifts away, her eyes glued to my mane. "Dragons..."

        On the way out, Rarity proudly hoofs me the re-stitched saddlebag. She says a few polite words, but I'm delightfully deaf to it all from the blood rushin' through my ears. I feel like a timberwolf prancin' back to her den. There's such sweet shame in shamelessness, don'tcha think?

        Heck, I reckon yer not thinkin' much at all right now. I can only imagine it, cuz I can't see you. I can only hear yer pindrop murmurs as I march softly out of the Boutique. Already, Rarity is fussin' up a storm.

        "Rainbow Dash, I thank you so much again for helping me with these alterations, but if we're to finish this gown for Raindrops by tonight, I really need you to lower your wings, darling... Rainbow Dash? Rainbow Dash, honestly! I need to get in closer! Rainbow Dash! Rainbow, for goodness' sake! Will you be a dear and lower your wings already?!"