Within the bright walls of the greatest bakery in all of Equestria, Pinkie Pie slaved away at the confection that she was concocting for the event to come. This was not a dessert for anypony that wished to merely purchase it, but a one-of-a-kind sort of dessert. It was to become something just to be shared between herself and her closest friends. A glorious dessert that would cause anypony unlucky enough not to have a bite to beg upon their knees for the leftover crumbs in the aftermath.
However, instead of the flaring fires of the stove-top, the torrential inferno of the oven, or even the chilling frost of the freezer, the various appliances in the kitchen sat unused. This was not because of some strange incident that needed the Elements of Harmony, Princess Celestia, and Gummy—the Scaled Champion—to help put down in the most elaborate of ways. Instead, she was planning out the recipe that she would soon be preparing, which was a task that required much more effort.
As for when she would be preparing said dessert, that was supposed to be less up to her, and more up to Applejack, for it was she that was delivering the primary ingredient. As if there was any doubt in her mind, Pinkie had written the word “Apple”—as well as underlined, highlighted, and bolded it—as the first part of the title. To add to such a great and wondrous fruit, it deserved the most delicious of ingredients, and while the apples that would be soon delivered to her definitely met that requirement, every other idea that she thought of seemed... wrong.
She had eaten a few apples from Sweet Apple Acres in the past—everypony this side of Equestria had. They were the most heavenly and angelic of all the fruit varieties, putting every other fruit in the entire world to shame. In a way, Pinkie felt bad for the other fruit, for no matter how hard they tried, they would never be able to take down the top contender, and become number one in their weight category. Instead, they would always be fighting for second place, with the perfect apples of Applejack's orchards reigning supreme for all time.
Princess Celestia and Luna were lucky those apples weren't sentient enough to govern a nation, for if they were, the two would be in an unemployment line somewhere.
However, despite the serious thoughts that were running through her head, Pinkie knew that she had to do something. There were only a few minutes left until Applejack arrived, and when she did, Applejack was expecting the most elaborate of recipes to dazzle her. In fact, in every other instance that Pinkie had been given the great opportunity to do such a thing—an occurrence that had happened at least seventeen and a half times in the last year—she had been able to pull off the impossible: making those apples somehow taste better.
In time though, she instead simply stood at the counter, pencil in her mouth, with the word “Apple” written at the top. The rest of the title was blank, for there wasn't anything else that she could think to put on it. To make things worse, she kept looking down at the ingredient list, and reminding herself of how hopeless she felt about the task that she was failing so miserably at. This was because at present, the only ingredients on the recipe were “A flank-load of apples”. That was it. No flour. No water. Not even sugar was written, for what if she didn't want to add sugar to the recipe, and ruin the apple's natural taste?
Pinkie shivered at the gruesome thought.
A sudden knock at the front door of Sugarcube Corner—followed by the familiar ringing of the bell above said door—signaled that dreaded moment that Pinkie had been worried about had just come. She had failed. Not only had she failed, but she probably had caused a rift in Ponyville being created, which would result in the entirety of the population to be sucked into Tartarus itself. From there, the horrifying atrocities that those ponies would be subjected to chilled her to the bone.
As she thought about the ways that he friends would be forced to wear non-matching socks, a very familiar Appleloosan accent filled her ears. “Hey, Pinkie Pie!”
Forcing a smile to form on her face for her friend, Pinkie faced the door, and closed her eyes as she replied. “Hiya Applejackiewackie! Good to see you here!”
Smiling back, Applejack approached, and after a quick check to make sure that her hat was on straight, she gave Pinkie a hug. A second later, she pulled back. “I got the apples you were waiting for. Ready to bake?”
Pinkie looked over Applejack's shoulder, and noticed the large sack that was now placed on the counter. The very large, overfilled sack was stuffed with apples that needed to be placed into a dessert that Pinkie couldn't for the life of her invent. This would be a disaster if she couldn't think of something in the next three seconds. If she couldn't think of something in that short of a time, then those apples would end up sitting on the counter. If they sat on the counter, then they would eventually get old, and rot. If they rotted, then they wouldn’t be shared with all of her friends. If they weren't shared with all of those wonderful and unique ponies, then Applejack would be mad at Pinkie.
Pinkie definitely didn't want to be madded at.
“Uhh... Pinkie?” Applejack interrupted as she cocked her head slightly to the right. “You alright?”
“Uhh... of course I am, you silly filly tilly who needs to frilly up her... uhhh... dilly?”
Pinkie mentally smacked herself in the face at the comment she just made. Frilly up your dilly? What was that supposed to mean!? One couldn't dress a pickle in high-society fashion! She tried it before, and it broke three local ordinances.
Applejack kept her head cocked. “You sure? You don't look alright.” Apparently spotting the paper behind her, Applejack tired to peer past Pinkie's shoulder. “Is there a problem with the recipe you got over there?”
With speeds that Rainbow would disbelieve, Pinkie moved her body over the sheet of nearly blank paper, and shielded it with her pink form. “Of course not! It's not like I can't think of anything to put on there because I can't make a new idea that is worthy of such holy relics of yours!”
“...Uh... what?”
“Stop prying! No daddy!”
“Pinkie Pie! What in the name of all that is holy are ya talking about?”
Realizing how crazy she must have been acting—Pinkie Pie loved her daddy—she sighed, and let her head sag. “I... umm... I... well... the recipe...”
She couldn't bring herself to finish the dreadful sentence. Instead, Applejack walked a little closer—Pinkie not giving any resistance this time—and looked at the blank paper. “Uhh... is this the recipe?”
Slowly, Pinkie nodded. “Uh huh.”
“...I see...”
This was it. Game over. Pinkie lost. Time to pack her bags and live like a mole pony, for there was no way that Applejack would want to be her friend now. Pinkie had taken Applejack's most treasured commodity—her most delicious treasure—and defamed it in the worst way possible. Those apples were capable of bringing children gifts in the winter, and she couldn't think of a single dessert to put them in. She could put them in a triple-decker cake with frosting and icing apple trees, but that wasn't enough for the situation. In fact, nothing was worthy of the situation anymore. Applejack had made her decision.
The mare opened her mouth, and gave out her sentencing. “Alright. I'll leave them here then! Sorry to make you worry.”
Before Applejack could move an inch, Pinkie turned around and nearly bumped noses with her friend. “Wait... what?”
“Just take your time!” Applejack pulled back a little bit with a smile, and winked. “Though if you'd rather, I could help.”
It was then that the most inexplicable thing happened to Pinkie: her belly did a quick twirly twirl, her head became dizzy wizzy, and her heart began to thumpady thump.
Pinkie knew nearly every single one of the little twitches and tweaks that made up her Pinkie Sense. Everything from knowing when something was going to fall to when a dragon was going to be bathing with Gummy on a Tuesday afternoon—the last one only happening twice in her life—she was able to instinctively identify what each meant. That wasn't to mean that every one was obvious in the ultimate act. Many of them were quite ambiguous on what or when such an act would happen. It was up to her to work out these little details on her own.
This Pinkie Sense wasn't one of those ambiguous ones.
Still, Pinkie kept her composure. With a completely convincing smile on her face, she took a few steps back and bumped into the counter behind her. “Uhh... hehehe... nopies! I think I got this allll under control!”
Applejack's face scrunched up inquisitively as she took a few steps toward Pinkie. “Ya sure, sugarcube? Doesn't look like you're alright.”
Suddenly, Pinkie dashed forward, spun Applejack around, and began to shove her forward. “Yep yep yepperson! I'm totally and completely a-okay! You don't have to worry about little ol' Pinkie here. I'll have that recipe ready in a jiffy!”
Stumbling over her hooves, Applejack looked back at Pinkie. “Alright alright! When should I—”
“Come back tomorrow!” Pinkie yelled, before slamming the front door to Sugarcube Corner shut. Pressing her back to the door she slumped to the cold wooden planks below, and sighed. “That was a close one...”
Carefully she peeked outside the window, and while Applejack looked confused in every definition of the word—granted the dictionary probably only held one—Applejack turned around, and began to make her way down the cobblestone road. Pinkie knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't help but to gawk vulgarly at Applejack's trailing rump as Applejack made her way down the road. For the first time, Pinkie noticed every single curve and muscle that made up those... hips of her friend’s. Her eyes traveling down, she carefully inspected the entirety of Applejack's strong legs—the legs that anypony in Equestria would kill five iguanas for... well... except for Fluttershy. Further down, her hooves were slightly dirty from working at the farm all day, but those hooves gave off the most... normal and earthly of sights.
It was solid fifteen seconds until Pinkie shook her head, and broke out of her stupor. “Hey Pinkie, what... what was that?”
“What was what? The Pinkie Sense you had, or the way you looked at your friend just now?” Pinkie responded, her hooves bringing herself back to the kitchen.
Pressing on the door, Pinkie entered the kitchen. “B... both.”
“You know what it was. Don't fool yourself.”
Pinkie made her way to the sink, and pulled her shaky forehooves onto the counter before responding. “Is... isn't that not okie dokie?”
“Apparently it is for you,” Pinkie said as she turned on the water. Looking into the reflection, she saw herself in all of her pink wonder. “Gotta say though, you pick them well.”
She felt her face blushing slightly. “I... I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Pleease!” Pinkie rolled her eyes, though she quickly returned them to the sink below. “Don't be one of those silly ponies that waits around for weeks and weeks as she laments about whether to talk to the pony she just checked out! Just go for it!”
Pinkie looked around, making sure that there was nopony around that would overhear Pinkie, for Pinkie was not using her inside voice. “How do I know... umm... it's more than a simple one time thing?”
“Does it even matter?” Pinkie giggled to herself. “You're not proposing to the mare! At least, not yet.”
That slight blush from before was no longer slight. “But... what would my friends if I ask?”
“I'm sure that they will either say 'Go for it' or 'It'll ruin our friendship'. Does it matter either way? You are going to still have feelings for her regardless. Might as well ask her, and get it over with!” Pinkie grinned maniacally. “Tear the bandage off quickly, one might say.”
“Oh, alright. I mean... what should I do?”
“Well,” Pinkie muttered. “Let's face it,there are only two things going for you right now.”
Pinkie raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what would those be?”
“First,” Pinkie said, “the fact that you have a pink coat makes your blush somewhat hard to see, but completely adorable when you can see it.”
Pinkie coughed lightly as she noted the generous amount of red hue on her cheeks through the sink's reflection. She took some slow, deep breaths, until stuttering out, “A-a-and the other?”
Pinkie mischievously smiled. “You have the initiative.”
Pinkie was having a panic attack.
This was a different panic than she had had a few hours prior when Applejack brought the apples in the first place. That one merely determined whether Pinkie would still have a friend that farmed apples at the end of the day. This was something much more terrifying, and much more tremendous of an event than the whole apple debacle had been. While the last one had been solved by Applejack just letting Pinkie know that everything was alright, this one was most likely going to go out of control very fast.
For Pinkie was going to admit what to Applejack what she was feeling.
That idea alone confused Pinkie. She had no idea what the concept of love was, let alone how she was supposed to know what it felt like. She didn't have a Pinkie Sense for love! Of course, was she even feeling love right now, or was it a different feeling entirely? What if it was something much less, and she was about to turned this into an awkward relationship with Applejack for the rest of their days? What if Applejack was completely disgusted, and threw Pinkie out of Sweet Apple Acres, and forced Pinkie's friends to abandon her? What if... what if...
Pinkie sighed, and realized that the longer she waited to ask, the longer she would have to wait until her questions were answered.
Thankfully for her, possibly at least, Pinkie was just passing the entrance to the orchards, and with a little hop, jumped over the fence that separated the apple tree fields from the road. That little wall out of the way, she traveled onward on her quest to find the pony that she just couldn't get out of her little Pinkie mind. Looking around, Pinkie debated trying to find one of Applejack's relatives to let her know where she was, but decided against it. After all, it was just as likely that she would find Applejack as any other member of her family.
Working off of a gut feeling, she continued to make her way through the orchards, and closer to the barn near the center of the entire property. Why the barn? Pinkie didn't know. It was much more likely that Applejack would be in the fields actually bucking the apples from the trees, instead of being the barn doing... something other than bucking the apples from the trees. Regardless, she made her way to the barn at the end of the property.
As she approached the doorway, she heard the tell-tale steps of hooves on the ground. It was impossible to identify who was creating such noises, but what she did know was that her gut feeling had taken her this far. Why wouldn't it bring her all the way? Granted, her gut was currently flipping this way and that way as the butterflies within took her little tummy on a ride on the back of a pegasus through the most treacherous of obstacle courses.
But no sweat, right?
Slowly, Pinkie made her way to the door, and with the most silent of peeks, carefully looked through the open doorway, and gazed upon the inside of the building. Pinkie hit the jackpot, for inside, she cast her eyes upon the perfect curves of Applejack's body. The way that her mane fell gracefully upon her face as she lifted the many heavy bales of hay, and threw them into a stack simply framed her face in just the right way. Adding to this, a few strands of her mane were pulled out of the tie that she had the rest of her mane tied in, giving her a “wild look” that sent Pinkie's butterfly pets swirling around in her tummy. That wasn't even talking about the glistening glow that Applejack had from the sweat that all of her hard work had produced.
All of a sudden, the most curious urge flowed through her.
Pinkie didn't bother creeping up, and instead, dashed forward with all the speed that she could muster. With a sudden leap, she cried out, “Tickle attack!”
Applejack turned to her right, and faced the harbinger of her torment. “What!?”
That was all that she was able to say before Pinkie was upon her. Tackling her victim to the ground, Pinkie laid waste to the poor, defenseless mare's tummy. Throwing her hooves along her friend's sides, Applejack let out the loudest squeal that Pinkie had ever heard come out of her throat. Immediately, the uncontrolled laughter that Applejack was letting out upon the world was echoing through the barn, filling the air with a nearly deafening noise. Applejack squirmed under her body, but Pinkie’s earlier leap was perfect, landing her right on top of Applejack, forcing her to the ground, and unable to get away.
Soon, the high pitched sounds of Applejack's begging filled the building. The mare begged for mercy as tears filled her eyes, pleading with Pinkie to end her torment, and allow her to recover. Alas, Pinkie would not be dissuaded so easily. With Applejack in just the perfect position for this sort of onslaught, there was no way that Pinkie Pie would let her go so easily. So instead, she continued with her relentless tickling, bringing even more cries of laughter.
However, it eventually had to come to an end, for Applejack had to breathe, after all. This end came as Pinkie's forelegs began to tire from the horrific amount of rubbing and exploring that they had been doing along Applejack’s belly and chest. Pinkie slowed her movements, with Applejack’s laughter slowing in kind. There was no real moment that Pinkie actually stopped her tickles. Instead, it was more a slow transition, where she slowly ceased her movements, and allowed Applejack to breathe for the first time in several minutes.
The laughter stopped, allowing a moment for Pinkie to gaze into the wondrous emeralds that were Applejack's eyes. Those perfect orbs nearly glowed on their own, giving off the most vivid of luminescence. If it wasn't for the fact that she was so tired from the earlier ordeal, Pinkie would've lost herself into those eyes, and swam in the twin seas of green. In all of her life, she had not met a pony with eyes to match these ones. In fact, if the saying was true that the eyes were a window into one's soul, then Applejack must have had a marvelous soul.
Applejack shifted a little bit under Pinkie’s body. “Umm... Pinkie?”
Despite what she knew was right, Pinkie lowered herself the rest of the way onto Applejack, so that her belly was flush with Applejack's. Her eyes half-lidded, Pinkie whispered, “Yes, Applejackie?”
Again, Applejack shifted under her. “Is there any way you cou—“
Those were the only words Applejack uttered before Pinkie locked lips with her.
Many ponies say that one's first kiss with another is the best one a couple will have. They say that the first kiss is the one that has the most passion and meaning to it. That first kiss is the one that is driven by compete love and affection, and is only given when a pony truly feels that he or she is ready. All others afterward are nice of course, but those are usually given because of habit or obligation. Nay, it is that first one—that very first hurtle towards a long-term relationship—that has the most feeling in it.
This must have been the exception to that rule.
That was because just a second after Pinkie kissed Applejack, Applejack violently yanked her head away, tearing her lips away from Pinkie. Immediately after, Applejack twisted her body, and kicked Pinkie off of herself. The buck was so violent, that it sent Pinkie onto her hooves and stumbling all the way back to the door. While she never lost her footing, Pinkie was forced to take a few steps away from her previous spot, or risk falling all the way back onto her back. Immediately, Applejack pulled herself to her hooves, and stared at Pinkie, her eyes wide with both confusion and shock.
Those wide eyes still on her face, Applejack stuttered. “What... what... what was that!?”
Slowly, Pinkie forced a giggle through her lips—an impossibly obvious giggle. “Well... you see...”
“Ah don' wanna hear it!” Applejack yelled, her eyes now narrowed in anger. “What makes you think that I would want that, huh!?”
Pain racked her heart as Pinkie took a few steps back. “Applejackie, I just—”
“Don't call me that! My name is Applejack!”
Now she wasn't just hurt, but she scared. Scared of her friend “O... okay Applejack. I just... I just though that—”
“That what!? That by kissing me like that, I would wanna be with you?! Huh!?”
That statement earned another few steps back, along with a few tears to go along with her broken heart. “N... no. I just... I just... my Pinkie Sense—”
Applejack met those few steps with a few steps of her own, keeping the distance between the two much too small. “Your Pinkie Sense!? You did that because of your blasted Pinkie Sense!?”
Somehow, Pinkie was able to control her trembling lower lip enough to speak. “I... I just wanted to—”
“You wanted what? To do this!? Huh!? What if I didn't want to be like that with you!? You ever think about that!?” Applejack slammed her front hooves to the ground. “What if I never wanted to do anything like that with any mare at all!?”
If her heart could shatter any more than it was now, it would be dust. “I... I...”
Venom poured out of Applejack's words as she spat, “I what!?”
She couldn't take it anymore. What was once a perfect moment, ruined. What was once a perfect day, destroyed. What was once a perfect feeling, shattered beyond belief. There was no positive outcome now. All that was left was the desire to run and hide. There was no way that she would ever try and fight Applejack, for no matter what happened, she was still a good pony.
So she ran.
Without ever taking a second look behind her, she turned tail,and dashed away, escaping from the barn where she had wagered all of her hopes and dreams, and had them destroyed. Her hooves slammed into the ground as she made her way out of there, and back into the orchards around the property. Trees on either side of her whizzed by in frantic speed, nearly turning into a blur as she did what she could to get away from the source of all the depression that was quickly overtaking her mind. What she would do after she got away wasn't important. Instead, all she wanted was to run away, and lament over what she had done wrong.
She wanted so desperately to hear the voice of Applejack calling to her to stop, but that voice never came.
In Sugarcube Corner, Pinkie paced along the floor of the kitchen as she looked into her reflection in the oven. “I thought you said just going for it would be a good idea!”
“I thought it was!” Pinkie wailed as she threw her hooves into the air. “Sure, I expected a shocked reaction, not a demon coming out and trying to kill us!”
“And I didn't expect for that demon to come lashing out, and try to eat my little Pinkie soul either!” Slowly, she dropped herself down from the oven, and turned towards the sink. From there, she walked over, propped herself onto the counter with her forehooves, and looked down at the water to look at her reflection once more. “ So.... what now?”
Pinkie rolled her eyes. “Now? I don't know, silly filly. You're on your own on this one.”
“On... on my own?” Pinkie's eyes grew wide. “But... you can't leave now! I need your help!”
“With what?”
“I... I...” Pinkie closed her eyes as she sighed. “I still want to do something with those apples...”
“You just lost at least one friend—if not all of them—and you’re still worried about the apples!? Ha!” Pinkie rolled her eyes. “What good are those apples now? All they represent is all that you just lost.”
Pinkie dropped herself back to the ground, and began walking over to the recipe that she had been working on for so much time now. “I know, but I... I just have to do this, I think.”
Pinkie sighed, and brought a forehoof to her face. “If you say so, kid.”
She didn't respond to her own short comment. Instead, Pinkie continued to walk over to the counter top that had the recipe on top of it. Slowly, she propped herself up on this one, and looked down at the small piece of paper. There were dozens of scribbles, scratch-outs, smears, and faded erase marks all over it—signs of a baker hard at work. In the end, after a long and arduous process, Pinkie had come up with the greatest of concoctions.
Apple ______.
Ingredients: a flank-load of apples.
Or not. Instead of a grand dessert fit for a princess, she hadn't come up with a single idea in the time between starting on this project, and dropping it to see Applejack. Not once had she been hit with even a bit of inspiration as to what to make. It was like the world around her was taking all of its mystical powers, and channeling them into the sole purpose of preventing this confection from coming into creation.
“Stupid planet magic,” Pinkie mumbled to nopony in particular.
She was at that counter for some time, pondering over what to create with the most precious of ingredients. In essence, the world and she were at a stalemate. On one hoof, there was nothing that she could think of—absolutely nothing—and there appeared no end in sight for her baker's-block. On the other hoof, there was no way that she was going to step away from this piece of blasted paper until the world finally gave in, walked over to her side, and shoved the completed recipe that she was looking for into her face in defeat.
Granted, Pinkie didn't suspect that to happen literally, but she'd definitely accept it if it did.
It was because of this, that she never heard the pony behind her enter the shop until the pony was right upon her. “Hey... Pinkie...”
A chill ran up and down the entire length of Pinkie's spine as the voice was instantly recognized. She didn't want to respond, but it was common courtesy to. “Hey... Applejack.
There was a pause—short enough not to be completely awkward, but long enough to be noticed—before the mare behind her whispered. “I'm... I'm sorry about earlier.”
Pinkie nodded, but never turned around to look into the emeralds. “It's alright.”
Applejack walked a few steps forward, before stopping a few meters away. “No, it ain't. I—”
“I mean, it was stupid of me to think that you would want to be with a mare anyway.” Pinkie rolled her eyes, still talking away from Applejack. “I mean, why would a pony think that you would want to be with a mare anyway? You are so totally into stallions. That's the most obvious thing, and I'm a silly foolish pony for thinking otherwise.”
“Pinkie, I don'—”
Alas, Pinkie's rant would not be stopped. Like a train, it would continue until it either reached its end, or wrecked. “And on top of that, even if you did like mares, why would a pony like you want to be with a pony like me? Here you are, on top of your world, able to be with anypony that you wanted to be. I mean, you aren't like some of those other ponies that are good looking when they 'doll-up' for a night out. You just carry that with you. Everything about you just screams it.”
“Pinkie...” Applejack's voice slightly wavered. “I didn't mean—”
“I mean, why would a lovely mare like you even want to go for a pony like me. All I am is a silly pony that can't seem to stop talking all the time, and annoys all but the crazies of friends. All I am is a stupid, ugly—”
“Hey!” Applejack shouted, suddenly much closer to Pinkie than previously. With that one word, the track that the rant's train was on suddenly disappeared, derailing the entire thing, and allowing Applejack to get a few words in. “I don't wanna hear that kind of talk from you. Alright? You you ain't stupid, you ain't ugly in the slightest, and you definitely ain't annoying... err... to the extent that you are saying.”
Pinkie slowly bobbed her head up and down. “Okay...”
Suddenly, Applejack got silent. It was not a silence that was comfortable in any sense of the word, but one that suddenly broke down everything that was going on, and created the most discomfort possible. Pinkie wasn't sure what Applejack was thinking that would've caused this to happen, but was certain was that it was something very important to everything. With Applejack so silent next to her, Pinkie so desperately wanted to find something to talk about—anything to talk about—and end the silence that was now ruling over the Sugarcube Corner Kitchen, but everything she thought of was either too silly, too stupid, or was about the weather.
Applejack did figure out what to say next. “Why me?”
To that, Pinkie paused for a second, before responding—still not looking back. ”Why you what?”
“Why me?” Applejack was heard shifting on her hooves. “You say all of those things, but I don't rightly see them in myself. Even still, why now? Why not before?”
Quietly sighing, Pinkie lowered her head to inspect the floor. “I don't know, Applejack. I just... it just felt right, I guess...”
“O... okay...”
Another pause filled the room. Again, Pinkie wanted nothing more than to end it with some kind of conversation, but there was only one thing that would come out of it—icky bad stuff. Progress was being made with repairing their damaged friendship that was so terribly broken a few hours ago, and a case of “Pinkie being Pinkie” would do nothing but destroy that progress. Maybe if the subject of onions—
Applejack, whispered, “Nopony's ever called me cute before.”
Pinkie looked to her right, and into those eyes. “Nopony?”
Applejack shook her head. “Nope.”
“Well... you are!” Pinkie took a half step away from Applejack, so that she would be facing towards her. “You really really are! Your eyes are so amazing, your mane is super duper adorable, and I love the way your freckles just stand out so well on your face! That isn't even mentioning how perfect your body is, with the way that your well toned curves and your flank is just—”
“Wh... wha...” Applejack stuttered, her face more akin to the apples on her flank than the bright orange that she normally was. Suddenly, she moved her body, almost as if she was trying to hide her rear from Pinkie. “I... what?”
Realizing what she had just been talking about, Pinkie grinned nervously. “Umm... never mind.”
Applejack coughed a few times, and gazed back to the recipe on the counter—her body still standing in a way so her rump was obscured. “So... just this so far?”
Pinkie turned to the recipe as well, and after regaining her composure somewhat, she sighed. “Yep.”
“Still just 'Apple blank'?”
“Yep.”
“Still just a 'flank-load of apples'?”
“Yep.”
To that last affirmation, Applejack went silent. After a few moments, Pinkie turned, and noticed that she was now deep in thought. Again, silence prevailed in the bakery, reigning over their current situation. However this silence was much more welcome than the last, for Pinkie did not feel like the mare next to her was three seconds away from running away screaming or something. Instead, it was a silence of two ponies thinking—or at least one pony thinking about thinking of the pony next to her thinking about the recipe Pinkie was thinking about, or something somewhat simpler than that.
Eventually, the imaginary light bulb went off in Applejack's head, and with a sudden movement, reached for the pencil on the counter. Taking it in her mouth, she completed the title. It was as simple move, only requiring a single three letter word. However, with those three letters, it turned the once incomplete dessert into something wonderful. Something magical. Something... something..
Perfect.
Pinkie—who was now in complete and utter shock—turned her eyes to Applejack, who was currently blushing harder than even before. Carefully, the now very very red-faced mare put down the pencil, and did her best to smile at what she had written. Turning to Pinkie, they locked eyes, and Applejack's smile grew.
“You... you...” Applejack stammered, not really sure what to say.
Pinkie nodded. “I...”
Giving herself a second to breathe, applejack finally was able to speak. “You... you think that you... we can do this?”
Slowly, Pinkie nodded. “I... I have everything to make it right here in the bakery...”
Applejack nodded. “That's good.” Slowly, Applejack took one more deep breath, and whispered, “But I wasn't talking about the dessert.”
Again, Pinkie nodded. Furiously this time. “I think... yes. Yes!”
Applejack breathed a shaky breath, and started to make her way to the pantry. With a noticeable bit of hesitation, she suddenly flicked her tail across Pinkie's face. Smelled like hay. “Then... uh... let's get started!”
Pinkie did what she could to stifle the gasp that nearly escaped her. Instead, she nodded, and turned around herself as she headed to the fridge. “Okie dokie loki!”
