Consent

Part 3: Unsolicited Revisions

“Two o’clock, green eyes, red tee-shirt, light brown hair,” Pinkie whispered.

“Nice, but not diggin’ the moustache. I’m more into the tallie in the leather jacket at eleven... If only he lost the bowl cut.”

“What about blue hair over there?”

“I... don’t think he’d be interested, Pinkie.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. It could be the bright pink waistcoat or the checkered cravat, but I just get the feeling he’s not particularly interested in women. His friend looks alright, though.”

“Alright? He’s a hottie!”

“Heh, maybe if he was a few inches taller. He’s shorter than you.”

“Are you kidding? I love ‘em fun-sized! I like the specs too.”

“Kinda make him look nerdy...”

“No way! I think they make him look really smart.”

“Same thing.”

“Whatever... Ooh! Ooh! He’s got a tattoo on his arm, black with all those curvy lines and spikes.”

“Oh, okay, so maybe he isn’t too bad. Those are some nice arms.”

“Dibs!”

An exuberant Pinkie Pie practically jumped off her seat at the table, her puffy pink hair bobbing as she did so, and strided towards her selected target for the night before Rainbow Dash could react, leaving the colourfully haired woman slightly bemused.

“That was... sudden,” said Applejack from beside her.

“That’s Pinkie for you.” Regaining her smile, Rainbow Dash shifted closer to Applejack and gave the club another predatory sweep with her gaze. She wondered how Pinkie didn’t already know all of the men here, being the biggest socialite in town. Some of them wore football jerseys with “Cloudsdale Speedsters” embroidered in big, bold letters on the backs. Clearly here for the upcoming game against the Ponyville Titans. That would explain a lot. “See anything you like?”

“Hmm?” Applejack hummed through the glass between her lips, looking up. She brought the cider back down to rest on a coaster before asking, “Whaddya mean?”

Rainbow frowned, surprised that she hadn’t caught what she meant. “You know... Guys?” She waved her arm around, haphazardly gesturing to the male dominated space around them.

“Ah don’t know. I... haven’t really seen any that are... mah type.”

Her forehead creasing, Rainbow glanced around the club, filled with bachelors of every size, shape and stature. “Really? Not one?”

“Nope.”

“What about that guy?”

“No.”

“Him?”

“Nuh-uh.” Applejack stated finally.

“So you’re not attracted to any of the men in this room.”

“Not in th’ slightest,” She smiled, reaching for her glass again.

Rainbow regarded the woman as if she were from another planet. Surely, she had to find at least a couple of good looking dishes in this smorgasbord. Unless... Pinching the shoulder strap of her sky blue tank top thoughtfully, she asked, “What about girls?”

Luckily, Applejack couldn’t scold her immediately, as she had been in the middle of another sip. Her eyes went wide and she hurriedly swallowed the drink. Before she could utter a single syllable, Rainbow Dash interrupted her. “It’s okay if you’re not into guys! I mean, I didn’t know what I was into until I tried it with a girl.”

“Ah’m pretty sure Ah’m straight, Dash,” the other woman coughed.

“You sure? I’ve never seen you with a boyfriend.” She paused.

“Ah’ve had plenty’o-”

“If you want, I could set you up with a few single girls I know who would really-”

Applejack grunted loudly. “Men, Rainbow Dash,” she said sternly, “Ah’m attracted to men.”

“So what? Are you taken or something?”

“...”

Being the Element of Honesty wasn’t always beneficial. Applejack’s lips pursed and her eyes jerked around in their sockets. Forcing herself to look the woman in the eyes, she smiled innocently. “Well, Ah don’t think ‘Taken’ isn’t the best way to put it...”

The farmer was quick to regret her wording as Rainbow Dash smiled smugly. “Ooh, so you are seeing someone!”

“No! Ah, uh, well... Ah don’t have... uhh...” she stuttered, looking anywhere but the eyes of the girl sitting opposite her. She cleared her throat and stirred her drink with its unused straw, hoping that it would somehow detract from the conversation.

Dash shot her an excited smile. “Who is it and why haven’t I met this guy? Wait, do I know him?”

Applejack began to look sick, but Dash took no notice.

“He’s not your first boyfriend, is he?” she asked in ill suppressed shock.

Sighing, Applejack dropped any hope she had of keeping her brash friend in the dark as to her relationship status. “No, Ah’ve had a couple before.”

“First one you’ve slept with?” The blush that spread across the tanned woman’s face said it all. Rainbow Dash swiftly stood up from the fixed bench and extended her hand across the table. What Applejack finally recognised the gesture and took her hand in kind, she shook it vigorously, saying, “Congratulations, AJ. You have officially lost your virginity.”

“APPLEJACK FINALLY GOT LAID!?” Pinkie Pie’s shrill voice cut through the air like a samurai sword through a delicious cupcake. Applejack winced, tapping her ear with a finger just to ensure its functionality. Pinkie Pie placed both of her hands on the table and leaned in, intent on verifying this claim. “Really? Really? Who took it? Was he cute? Is it serious or just fun?”

Applejack bit her lip and hung her head in embarrassment. Oblivious, Rainbow jeered, “I was just about to ask her that, Pinkie. So AJ, who was it?”

“More importantly, do I know him?” Pinkie interjected.

Applejack didn’t look up, simply whispering, “You do, but Ah’d prefer not ta talk about it.”

“Aww, c’mon, we just want a few details,” Rainbow complained. “Was it good?”

Pinkie Pie squeaked in agreement, “Yeah, spill!”

Applejack hesitated to answer, simulating the consequences in her mind. She sighed, “It was... really good.” At least she could be truthful about that part. Pinkie narrowed her eyes just slightly. Grinning sheepishly back at her, Applejack suddenly saw her long awaited diversion. “So how’d ya’ go with that ‘hottie’?”

Pinkie Pie clapped her hands together enthusiastically and turned to Rainbow Dash, who looked askance to take the subject change. Only paying slight attention to what the socialite was saying, Applejack took another drink from her glass, visibly tense. It was going to be a long night.

The strain was intense, his left arm aching like nothing else. His wrist felt like it could buckle at any moment. Still, he reached out with his other arm, also pressured by the leverage. the book was almost at the gap in the bookshelf when Spike could reach no further with just his arm.

He shifted his feet, and used another gap in the bookshelf as a booster. the thin wood warped slightly under his added weight. He leaned back on his other foot, so as not to damage the shelf. Bobbing the books in his other hand, he pushed forward again. The simple idea to dismount the ladder, move it and climb back up never occurred to him.

Spike heard what sounded like a distant rumble and felt a slight tremor in the ground. He stretched his arm even more, but the bookshelf only seemed to get further away. The base of the ladder creaked. Wait a sec- “AH!”

The subsequent crash left Spike very dazed, pinned under the surprisingly heavy ladder.The books he’d been carefully balancing on his hand were now spread evenly across the library floor, possibly damaged. With a sigh, Spike staggered to his feet, rubbing his head sorely. It was too early for this.

A few wisps of grey smoke were already slinking out from under the door leading to the basement as Spike approached it. The air smelt strongly of ozone. He heard light coughing on the other side. Throwing the door open, he peered into the light fog. It seemed to be clearing. “Twilight? Are you okay?”

The woman’s figure could just barely be made out through the veil, wearing what appeared to be a lab coat, dust mask and goggles. Twilight partially lifted the mask with a rubber clad hand and coughed again, having neglected to apply it before the explosion. “I’m fine, Spike. Looks a lot worse than it is.”

“What happened?” the boy asked, waving his arm in front of his face.

“Oh... Just a little... overestimation,” said the scientist, lifting her goggles to reveal the contrast from her normal complexion to the sooty areas that had been exposed. “Didn’t know magically enriched unicornium could cause seismic shifts.”

Spike winced at the amount of dirt settling on only the most hard to reach places of the room. “Okay, do you want me to clean this up now, or-”

“No, I’ve got a few more tests to do, so it’ll only get dirty again. I won’t use so much carbon next time, though. That should make it a little less messy.” She looked up at Spike from her position behind a bench laid with an assortment of scientific instruments most physicists would be jealous of. She leaned over it, smiling. “You know, I’ll be at this for a few more hours, and there’s not really anything else I want you to do. Once you’ve finished upstairs, you can take the rest of the day off.”

“Really?” he asked, genuinely wondering.

Twilight nodded. “I know you’ve been working really hard lately, especially with Applejack and Rarity. Go on and enjoy yourself. I’m sure the Cutie Mark Crusaders or Pipsqueak will be free.”

The boy brightened instantaneously, grinning widely. “Wow, thanks Twi!” he said, “I’ll get right on those chores.” Spike couldn’t finish them fast enough.

“Hey, do you think you could do that thing with the… you know?” asked Pipsqueak, hands buried deep in his pockets as he walked next to Spike, who took the request apprehensively.

“Sorry Pip, Twilight doesn’t like me using it outside of a ‘controlled environment’,” he shrugged.

“Pleeeaaase~, my hands are freezing!” Pip held out his pale hands for emphasis. While very white in comparison to Spike’s hands, they weren’t far off his normal pigment.

“You’re from Trottingham,” Spike excused himself, “It’s colder over there. Aren’t you used to it?” Pip’s face screwed up in annoyance.

“Why do you think I bloody well moved here?” the shorter boy asked in exasperation. It left Spike at a loss for an answer. Pipsqueak had his thinking face on. That worried him. Trying to look as calm as possible, he kept one eye trained firmly on the Brit next to him.

Dropping his hands back to his sides, Pipsqueak started whistling nonchalantly. He stretched his out arms out at forty-five degree angles, his left moving behind Spike. On its way back, Pip’s hand hooked Spike’s wrist. His other hand soon clasped over it. He was telling the truth when he said his hands were freezing. They felt like ice. Spike tried to pull his hand away, but Pipsqueak had a very firm grip.

In an intentionally homosexual move, he pulled himself uncomfortably close to Spike, holding his hand between his two. “Mmm, you’re really warm,” he jibed, resting his head on Spike’s shoulder and closing his eyes. He squeezed his hand just firmly enough to push the taller boy over the edge.

“Fine,” Spike exclaimed, pulling away, “I’ll do it. Just stop that.”

Both young men stopped walking and turned to face each other. Pipsqueak watched intently as Spike held out his hand at arm’s length and readied his thumb and middle finger.

A click. A small flash. Nothing.

Looking slightly confused, Spike clicked his fingers again… and again, and again.

“Having trouble?” Pip asked, finding Spike’s frustration to be very entertaining.

“There’s too much moisture in the air. It’d be a lot easier if-”

Click. Ignition.

They both jumped a little at the flicker of emerald fire that suddenly burnt in the atmosphere over Spike’s hand. Leaping at the chance, Pipsqueak was quick to hold his arms out to soak in the warmth. His following, exaggerated ‘Ahhhh’ drew a laugh out of both.

“Better now?” Spike half smiled.

“Muchly.”

Spike resumed walking and Pip hurried to follow. With Ponyville proper little more than specks in the distance, they found their presence increasingly excluded. The trees had been long stripped of their leaves by the chill of Winter. Any would be curious creature was in hibernation. It looked more like a desert than a woodland. How much further was it to the-?

Shhhhhwap.

Silence. Both stood stock still, breathing with only slight gasps for air.

Spike’s eyes searched for the source of the sound, only to notice the violent splatter of powdery ice on a tree trunk to his left. They traced the trajectory to a nearby clearing, surrounded by shrubbery.

Their dark figures would stand out amongst the white snow to anyone watching from a distance. Out in the open. The nearest ridge was a good thirty metres away.

“Was that what I think it was?” Pip whispered, eyes scanning from side to side. Would they?

“The clubhouse will be at ten o’clock,” Spike said lowly. They would.

“At least one contact at two o’clock.”

“They’ll open fire as soon as we move.” Spike frowned and lowered his head, still looking forward, towards a small ditch. They could make it. He communicated his plan to Pipsqueak, who agreed.

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

“Go!” the taller boy shouted, and both took off at a sprint. The sounds of snowball impacts trailed closely behind them.

Shwap shwap shwap shwap!

They rolled into the ditch, pushing their bodies into the recess to make sure of their own protection. The onslaught continued, if a little slower. Regardless, they were pinned, and the snow around them was of too low a quality to function as any decent projectile.

Another impact, just above Pip’s head, sent a small shower of white powder into his hair. Something was wrong with these snowballs. They were a little too accurate, a little too forcefully thrown.

Spike extended his hand just above the ridge, only to withdraw it less than a second before a white projectile whizzed past, through where his hand would have been. It had been a very slight shade of violet. A slight shimmer as it impacted a thick tree branch.

“They’re being guided!” Spike grunted in annoyance.

“What are?” asked Pipsqueak, still dusting the top of his head.

“The snowballs! I think Sweetie’s using telekinesis.”

Pipsqueak glowered, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice as he shouted “Cheaters!” in the direction of the incoming fire.

“Spike? Pipsqueak? What are you guys doing here?” A squeaky, pubescent voice came from behind them.

Spike looked up to the talking tree on the other side of the road. “Snips, is that you?”

“Snails, help them!” shouted the oak. There was a collective giggle from the other direction; the girls seemed to be enjoying their newfound tactical superiority.

“I got it!” A tall, lanky figure emerged from behind an evergreen pine tree, also across the road, crouched low to the ground. Rushing forward, Snails let fly with the two snowballs in his hands, before dropping to the ground as the attack was promptly countered. Clearly, he could actually see the mischievous girls, unlike Spike and Pipsqueak.

“I say we make a run for the clubhouse,” rasped Pip, turning to Spike.

Spike made a gesture with his hand. “Ladies first.”

Elbowing him in the stomach in a not-so-playful way, Pipsqueak jumped to his feet and began running towards the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ tree house. Spike made it all of four steps before he was hit squarely in the side by a well thrown snowball. Another hit his upper thigh. Following Pipsqueak, he clambered over a snow covered park bench and ducked his head. Good, the snow here was much better, more powdery. It would do nicely.

Packing it tightly, Spike smiled. He could hear the sounds of snow combat approaching with giggles and goofy laughs. Soon, he saw the athletic form of Scootaloo appear, her normally leaf shaped hair flattened by a beanie. She was running to cover, giving Spike the perfect chance to hit her orange jumper, splattering it with ice. Sadly, in doing so, he also gave away his own position.

“Hey! Spike’s over there!” she called to the other girls. Snips and Snails could hardly help Spike and Pipsqueak now, somehow kept busy by Sweetie Belle alone. Where was Applebloom?

Before he could make that coherent thought, Scootaloo was already making a counter attack with a vengeance. Spike’s hair was shown no mercy. The slush began melting instantly. momentarily distracted by the state of his hair, Spike didn’t notice the farm girl charging directly at him.

“Look-” Pipsqueak began to warn from next to him, but was too late.

Applebloom crashed into Spike at full speed, sending them both tumbling into the snow. Spike could have sworn he was lifted off of his feet by the sheer force. Junior librarian and farmhand locked in a wrestle for dominance. Each thrusted the other into the padded ground at every opportunity. Applebloom won eventually, years of lifting crates of apples out matching years of lifting stacks of books. She pinned him down by the shoulders, straddling him in much the same way Applejack did. Hereditary habit?

Her face was just a bit too close for comfort, especially in this lover’s position. Spike thanked the princesses that the girl atop him was wearing long pants, as opposed to her regular slim fitting shorts. “Gotcha!” she announced, as if it weren’t already apparent. Her hands descended to his biceps. Her rosy cheeks belied nothing of her enjoyment.

“Okay, okay, I give. You win…” Bringing up a bite-size piece of snow, Spike flicked his fingers to give Applebloom a cold, white facial. The girl shot up, making a sour face. She quickly scooped up a fistful of snow and dashed it over Spike’s head. “Ahck!”

“Fear not, my companion, I will come to your aid!”

Points for tenacity.

Spike and Applebloom glanced to the side just in time to see Pipsqueak running towards them, snowballs held clumsily, and Scootaloo running in an adjacent direction. Spike didn’t have to know trigonometry to figure out what was about to happen.

Girl met boy.

Athlete met Trottinghamite.

Red Semi-trailer met powder blue Prius.

In total honesty, it was the most affectionate tackle Spike had ever seen, if that was possible. Scootaloo made to run just past him, but wrapped her arms around his waist at the last moment and swung him around. Her momentum carried them both forward and down onto the ice covered ground. As was her intention, Scootaloo landed back first, with the smaller boy folding over her, arms stretched out, grasping for the sky.

The taller girl proceeded to noogie Pipsqueak thoroughly, covering up her backward hug quite nicely. Pip was torn between fighting off the knuckles grating his scalp, and the arm around his waist. Oddly, he chose the latter. “My hair, my hair!” he yelped, then burst into laughter.

It was short lived, though. A very low, deliberate cough brought them all from their elation-induced ignorance, save for Sweetie Belle, Snips and Snails, who were still battling it out. Only now realizing her awkward position, Applebloom dismounted Spike and scrambled to her feet, the slightest tinge of red on her cheeks.

“Oh hey, Big Mac, what’re you doin’ here?” she asked, trying to hide her fluster.

The quiet man glanced around the scene with a half inquisitive gaze before settling on his little sister. His expression was unreadable, as always. “Ah’m here fer’ Spike,” he stated bluntly.

Applebloom turned to Spike, who was still on the ground, and helped him up. They gave each other a quick, questioning, sideways glance before she motioned him forward. He forced an unknowing smile as Applebloom left him to stand by Pipsqueak and Scootaloo.

Spike stood almost a foot shorter than Mac. The big man would ever do it figuratively, but he had to look down on Spike in this particular moment. He turned, and gestured for the boy to follow him. As Spike had somehow expected, they faced the direction of the farmhouse.

“Applejack wants ta’ see ya.” He was definitely to the point about these things.

“Okay,” Spike avoided, “I’ll go see her now, I guess.” He made to leave, but a strong hand caught his shoulder and spun him back around.

“Ah ain’t finished,” Mac drawled, lowering himself slightly. “Ah know what you and Applejack did th’other night.”

Spike froze, eyes widening. “Y-you do?”

“Eeyup.” Fearful, Spike took a step back. Big Macintosh stopped him, seeing his reaction. “Hold on; Ah ain’t gonna hurt’ya,” he soothed, “Frankly, it’s none ‘a muh business who Applejack sees. Jus’ make sure you treat her right.”

Spike looked Mac in the eye. Green met green. “I will.”

“Good. Now, get goin’. She’ll be in her bedroom at home,” Mac clued, giving the boy a more than firm pat on the back.

Applejack clutched her forehead, pushing herself further into her pillow. She groaned aloud. Her head felt like it was ready to explode. What did she do to deserve this?

Oh, right... Drinking again.

She closed her eyes. Despite possessing several barrels of drink every cider season, the members of the Apple family made a point of not having more than a glass each, half a glass for Applebloom. It was merchandise, after all. This of course meant that Applejack could hold her liquor about as well as Pinkie Pie could hold still.

She wondered how Rainbow Dash was feeling right now. She’d had even more, somehow. That girl could drink. Applejack would have laughed, had the pain in her head not dimmed her sense of humour. She was no stranger to hangovers, but that didn’t make them any less debilitating.

“Hello?” whispered her favourite voice in the world. Cracking open her eyes, Applejack craned her neck to the side. Spike stood in the doorway, a look of concern on his features. “What happened to you?” he asked, walking towards the bed.

The farmer flexed her abdominal muscles painfully, moving into a sitting position. “Ah jus’ had a little too much ta drink last night, sugar; that’s all. Some coffee, and Ah’ll be right as rain.” She smiled as best she could.

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, Ah do think so.”

Spike shook his head. “No. If it’s alcohol, coffee will only make it worse.”

Her arm across her forehead, Applejack looked at him accusingly. “How would you know anything about hangovers?”

“I don’t, but I do know that alcohol is a toxin, and needs to be diluted with water. Coffee will just dehydrate you more.” After taking a rather pointless look at the door, Spike added, “I’ll be right back,” walking out the door, towards the kitchen.

The boy returned not a minute later, holding a pitcher of water and single glass. The ice cubes within the glass clinked faintly as he filled it. “This should help, even if it’s just a little,” he smiled, waiting for Applejack to sit up in the bed before passing her the drink.

To a certain extent, he was right. The cold water hitting her tongue reminded the blonde haired woman of a thirst she didn’t know she had. She downed another glass quickly. “Feel better?” Spike asked, knowing she did.

“A little...” She sat the glass on the nightstand, next to the pitcher, and gestured towards him with her finger. When he leaned close enough, she closed the distance and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Applejack moved over in the bed far enough to accommodate another body, wincing immediately afterwards.

“Still hurt?” He looked more concerned than he should have been. She nodded. Sitting on his knees beside her, Spike pulled at the blankets. “Here, roll over.”

The woman absently obeyed, tossing off the covers and rolling onto her front. Much to her surprise, she felt a pair of hands grip her shoulders tightly, their thumbs over the base of her neck. It started slow and thorough, simply kneading the flesh in her shoulders, but gradually, Spike built a rhythm. Through her shirt, her muscles felt very tight, as he had expected. Not unusual for someone in pain.

Applejack crossed her forearms on the pillow beneath her and turned her head to the side, moaning out loud. He was certainly skilled with his hands. “Mmmph, you done this before, Spike?”

“Yeah, you know how worked up Twilight can get, so I do this for her sometimes.”

The woman breathed a laugh. “Where would that girl be without you?”

“With a shocking neck cramp.” That made them both laugh. Applejack’s was short lived, however, drawn out into a relaxed sigh as Spike moved further down her back. He was barely at her shoulder blades when she stirred.

“Wait,” she mumbled, using her arms to push herself up. Her thick fingers hooked the base of her tea green shirt and swiftly pulled it upwards. As per her standard, she made no effort cover herself in front of him. She laid back down, identical to how she was lying just a few moments before.

A little disbelieving of his own eyes, Spike continued as if she hadn’t just taken her shirt off. Or at least, as normally as he could. He could feel the smoothness of her skin now, something he wasn’t really used to. Well… there may have been one or two occasions where Twilight elected to go topless, but she had made him promise not to tell anyone under the threat of ‘toasterifization’. The teen was in no rush to find out what that meant.

As his palms crested the small of the woman’s back, it dawned on Spike just how special he was to be sharing this moment with Applejack. Just like that magical night that had taken his innocence, she was completely opening herself up to him. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the feeling. With only a few movements of his hand, he could make her tense, relax, hum, shudder or anything in between.

Normally, at this point Spike would work his way back up to her neck. He certainly never dared to try to give Twilight a… buttock massage, but something about what he knew lay underneath her dark red briefs drove him further. Her groan of approval helped too. She was really sensitive down there, but her wanted to make her feel even better.

Maybe he could ask her to roll over and take off…

No. If Applejack had a hangover, sexual stimulation was the last thing she needed. He moved down lower, only to stop at her upper thigh, noticing her tattoo. Three, bright red apples adorned her right leg. He traced one with his finger. Definitely well done, if a little predictable.

“Long story,” she sighed, as if sensing his curiosity.

There were no nerves to stimulate on her thighs and calves, so the budding masseuse moved straight to the farmer’s feet. They were unexpectedly tender, not calloused at all. Of course, she always wore her boots outside.

“Okay,” Spike coughed, “That’s all I can give for now. My fingers are starting to get tired.”

Applejack mumbled something in acknowledgement, not even opening her eyes. She worked a hand out from under her head and extended it toward him expectantly. Not knowing what else to do, Spike reached out and took it in his own. Only for a fraction of a second, it seemed, as she pulled his arm hard enough to practically drag him up the bed. Rolling onto her side, she pulled him in for what she considered much needed cuddle time.

Spike ended up on his back, with Applejack’s head resting on his shoulder and her arm across his stomach. Finding nothing else for his arms to do, he wrapped one around her neck and to her shoulder and held the hand on his chest with the other. He didn’t mind this position.

“Applejack, what are we going to do about… us?” Spike intoned, something that had been bugging him.

Her face scrunched up, roused. “What about us?” Her eyes outright refused to open.

Spike pushed, “This whole thing about keeping it a secret. I’m not the best at keeping secrets like that, especially from Twilight. They’re going to find out eventually.”

Applejack sighed dejectedly, “Ah know. Rainbow Dash already figured out Ah’m seein’ someone, but Ah don’t think she’d suspect you.”

The teen nodded. “But Big Mac knows, for sure.”

That gave the woman pause. She propped herself up on her elbow. “What?”

“He told me he knew when he found me, but said it was none of his business.”

Applejack huffed. “Con-sarn it, e’ could’a talked ta’ me first.” She laid back down, groaning that Mac would ‘get it’ the next time she saw him.

“I would like an excuse to see you more often, though,” he said, squeezing her hand. It had minimal effect, given the size difference.

She thought for a second. “Well, winter wrap up isn’t too far away, and we’ll need plenty ‘o-”

“That’s ages away,” he sighed, “Besides, you’ll be busy then.”

Applejack laughed, then closed her eyes in thought. Nothing… There wasn’t a whole lot of work to do, not until close to Spring. Up until then, they’d just be vending the apples in storage. “Wanna learn how ta’ ride a horse?” The proposal was in jest, but neither of them laughed, opting to raise their eyebrows.

Damn zips.

It just wouldn’t budge. Kept getting caught just above her waistline. She grunted and braced herself against the metal lockers that lined the wall. This wasn’t good. She hadn’t even gotten in the glider, and she was already having problems. Rainbow groaned and rubbed her head sorely.

“Need some help, Rainbow Dash?” A grey haired woman approached, her own green flight suit completely on and hair done up in a single horizontal roll at the crown of her head.. She took the other pilot’s zip and pulled it the rest of the way up smoothly.

“Thanks, Cloudchaser,” Rainbow smiled over the bags that clung just under her eyes. Cloudchaser took notice.

“Are you sure you should be flying? You look a little beat up…”

Stifling a yawn, Dash replied, “No, I’ll be fine. Just had a bit of a late night; that’s all.” She managed a small smile, despite the sickness in her stomach.

Ailerons. Flaps. Tail trim. Spoiler.

Rainbow mentally went through her pre-flight checklist.

Magic battery at full. Chemical tanks full. Air speed zeroed. Flight controls ready. Launch piston charged. Inertial Dampener engaged.

Shaking her head to rid herself of the tiredness, she brushed her finger over the launch control. It was only a standard cloud dispersal flight, just to hold off any potential snow-storms. It was going to be a rather warm winter this year.

The pressurized piston released, and the glider’s rail was pushed forward with 3.5 Gs of force. It slid forward off the cliff, magical thrusters powering it into the clouds.

Rainbow Dash tried to concentrate on dispersing the precipitation preventing chemicals evenly into the air, but the pounding in her head made it difficult. Stupid alcohol. It failed her yet again. Although, it probably would have been smarter to go out on the weekend, instead of Monday. But neither Pinkie nor Applejack had raised the point, and she certainly couldn’t be expected to think that far in the future.
Tired…

Her eyelids were getting heavier, no thanks to the feeble two hours of sleep she’d gotten. She took a deep breath.

Applejack had drank more than she expected her to, not that it was that surprising considering how weird the farmer had acted. What was it about her new boyfriend that she had to hide it from the rest of them? It wasn’t like it was her cousin or something… was it?

The purpose of her flight became a blur past the canopy.

No, Applejack would never do that. Although… If it was Braeburn, Rainbow could understand. Couldn’t stop smiling, strong, hardworking, treated women like royalty, and he wore a funny hat. Practically the whole package. The only drawback ran in the family, their own commitment to their work. Apples, apples, trees, trees, trees, trees.

Tree… tree… funny word.

Even funnier, she could have sworn she saw a really big tree just in front of the glider, getting closer very quickly.