Spike sighed as Tori lay her head on his shoulder, her purple hair splayed down her back, and a hand cupped directly underneath her head. Squinting at her, Spike slid his eyes back to his game, his hands rapidly and accurately tapping the thumbpad as little blocks made their way down from the top screen. 'Man, how can she be asleep? It's like, twelve.' His eyes were so focused on it that he didn't even notice the large man who had poked his head around the seat, until he cleared his throat. Spike jerked up, Tori's head bouncing on his shoulder, to stare at the other man.

"What's up?" The man smiled and scratched the back of his head, covered in burnt orange hair, and sheepishly grinned,

"Ah was actually wonderin' if this here seat was available." A heavy southern drawl slipped from his lips as he gestured a hand to the seat directly across from Spike, who was suddenly very aware of how empty their small aisle was.

"Oh yeah, go ahead dude." He said, waving a hand at it. The other man nodded and slipped into the area. It was then that Spike realized just how big he was. Covered in enormous red flannel shirt and old, worn-through jeans, the man was a replica of Paul Bunyan, complete with the wheat stem in his mouth, and almost as big. Slung on his back was a small duffel bag, much like Spike's under the seat, only smaller, setting it on the seat beside him, he looked over at Spike with an easy-going smile.

"Name's Mac Abbey." Spike looked at him, before smiling,

"I'm Spike. That's Tori." Nudging Tori off his shoulder and onto the seat, and slipping his GameDragon into his pocket, he held out his hand to Mac. Mac reached out and gripped the smaller boy's hand and gave it with a hearty shake, sending tremors through Spike, his arm dwarfed and his hand lost inside the larger man's rough, calloused hands. It was then that Mac squeezed. Quickly yanking his hand back as soon as Mac let it go, he grinned weakly at him, and Mac blinked before realizing what had happened.

"Uh... Sorry 'bout that, little man." Spike just waved his uncrushed hand,

"It's all, ow, good." Mac sighed, rubbing his large hands together and leaning back into the striped seat,

"So, uh, where ya headed?" He asked. Spike shrugged,

"Some little town called Ponyville. Ever heard of it?" Mac grinned,

"Sure have. That's mah hometown." Spike blinked,

"Wait, so you're going there right now?"

"Eeeyup." Mac slurred out, reaching into his duffel and pulling out a large green apple, "Ya hungry?" Spike looked at the apple, then at Mac, then at the apple again, Spike looked skeptical,

"Are you sure?" Mac pulled the apple close to him, and with his hands tore the apple into two parts, before tossing one to Spike, who brought it up to his face to admire Mac's handiwork.

"Nice. I sure as hell couldn't do that." Mac took a wet bite out of his half,

"Well when ya spend so much time 'round apples, ya start to learn their secrets." Spike nodded, picking at the exposed seeds with his index finger,

"So you do apple stuff?" Mac shrugged,

"Eeeyup, ah guess y'all could say that. Ah mostly just work on the farm." Spike gnawed on his apple, savoring the sweet-followed-by-tart flavor burning his tongue. Sucking on it, he spoke around the apple flesh,

"So you're a farmer?" Mac waved his hand,

"Eeeyup. Apple farmer. Sure we grow some other stuff, but our main product is apples." Spike continued to repeatedly bite the apple in his hands, eyes still on Mac,

"Tho' how old are you?" He said in between bites, "If you don't mind me asking?" Mac partially sat up, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a green and red wallet. Reaching inside, or trying to at least, his thick fingers grappled with a small card. Finally, he wrangled the small piece of plastic out of its holder and handed it to Spike. Looking at it, he nearly dropped his apple.

"Eighteen?! You're only eighteen!" Mac chuckled, taking back his ID,

"Eeeyup, ah get that a lot." Spike looked down at himself, with his scrawny body, his medium sweater already baggy on his chest, and his, also baggy, cargo pants supported by a belt that he could never get to fit tight enough. Stealing a glance at Mac, he could see the muscles bulging underneath the black and red checkered pattern. Suddenly very self-conscious, he scrunched his legs together, and inhaled to make his chest look bigger.

"Well I'm fifteen. I'm gonna be in eighth grade this year." Mac stared out the window,

"Ah got a sister 'bout yer age, back at home." Mac said, resting his hand on the window sill, "Ah wonder how mah family's doin'...?" He mumbled, partially to himself, partially to Spike, who looked out the window with him.

"I'm sure they're fine." He said, not exactly knowing why he was saying it, but saying it nonetheless. Mac sighed, then smiled, turning back to the younger boy,

"Yeah... I'm sure they are. I'm just worried 'cuz Ah've been away most of the summer." He explained as Spike popped the remaining piece of apple into his mouth, "So what bring's ya'll ta Ponyville, Spike?" Spike shrugged, bumping Tori's head with his shoulder, causing her to mumble in her sleep, and push her face father into the leathery seat.

"Ugh, this one. She..." He tapped his chin in thought, looking for the right words to describe Tori, "She's socially retarded, I guess." One of Tori's free hands came up and smacked Spike in the face, before drifting back to the side of her purple bangs.

"Mmnot retarded..." She mumbled, and gave a loud snore. Mac laughed as Spike rubbed his face.

"Don't let that fool you. She has the disposition of a leper. That's why her teacher...parental figure...whatever is sending her off to make friends." Mac examined the pasty girl curled up next to her younger charge,

"She seems nice enough to me." Spike snorted,

"Yeah right. She's bossy, irritable, and downright crazy sometimes." Mac smiled,

"Ah feel the same way about mah sisters sometimes, too." Mac shot a smirk at Spike, before mimicking a high-pitched voice, "'Mac. ya'll gotta stop shaving in the shower!' or 'Mac, if ya'll are gonna let Carrie eat here, ya gotta pay fer his food.'." Spike eyes grew wide, and his head bobbed forward,

"Wow! Do you have chest hair?! You can have friends over for dinner?!" Mac shrugged,

"Carrie's more like... Ah dunno... Bosom buddy ain't the words... But they're close." Spike, however was still trying to peek down the first couple of buttons to get a look at the alleged chest hair. Mac popped the top button for his benefit and watched as Spike's eyes glittered at the golden hair bushing from under the flannel collar. Pulling at his own purple hoodie, he stared down it and sighed. Mac sympathetically patted him on the shoulder,

"Now don't ya'll fret. Ya'll are gonna be shaving 'fore ya know it." Leaning in, he squinted left to right, "Tell ya the truth, shavin's ain't all it cracked up to be." Spike shrugged,

"But I don't wanna shave! I wanna grow that shit out! I wanna have a mustache." He rubbed imaginary facial hair between his thumb and forefinger. "Then women would find me attractive, rather than a repulsive geek." Mac chuckled,

"Maybe, buddy, maybe." Spike watched the scenery whisk by,

"So what kind of apple stuff do you do?" Spike questioned Mac who seemed more than happy to talk of life on his farm. Spike listened intently as Mac talked about his life on the farm,

"And during the Autumn we make cider." Spike licked his lips,

"I love cider." Mac looked nervous,

"Yeah, but best not get hooked on the stuff." Spike looked at him, curious,

"Whattya mean?" Mac mimed drinking with his thumb and fist.

"It's like beer's dirty cousin. Still filled with alcohol." Spike blanched,

"Oh you mean hard cider!" He stuck out his tongue, "It leaves me with a bad aftertaste." Mac smiled sheepishly.

"Hah, that's true. But the Abbey Family's gotta make money somehow." Spike nodded and thought for a moment,

"What about winter? Don't apples not grow in winter?" Mac shook his head,

"Nah, but we usually tend to get by on the savings from Summer and Autumn." Spike did some mental calculations,

"But if you have as many acres of trees and plots of land that you do, you need to make it through the winter, and have enough for seeds after winter." Counting a bit on his hands, he grimaced, "That's a lotta dough." Mac nodded,

"Eeeeyup. Tons." Spike shook his head,

"Wow. That sounds crazy hard." Thinking a bit more he added, "Do you get any help?"

"Why? Ya offerin'?" he grinned, Spike gulped, and Mac laughed, "Yeah, we get help from time-to-time. Mostly from extended family members; when they're 'round. Or Carrie."

"How many do ya have?" Spike said, growing ever jealous of Mac's fortune, 'Man! This guy has got it down! Chest hair, friends, and family... he's probably even got an allowance!'. While he was lost in his thoughts, Mac too was mentally counting off his numerous family members.

"Well let's see... There's Brandon... he comes down the most, lives in Appleoosa. Then there's Aunt and Uncle Orlando... they're in Manehatten. Umm..." Spike listened in awe as Macintosh continued to list his extended family members. Aunts, Uncles, cousins, and great-grandparents in number. Eventually, Mac finally seemed to come to end. "And then Ah guess there's mah cousin Brady Sara. Ah think that's it..." He gazed upwards. "Pretty sure that's it..." Spike was astounded, having so many relatives you couldn't even keep track of them all, it was unimaginable. Mac looked at him,

"What 'bout you? 'Sides yer sister, who else is in yer family?" He nodded at the sleeping girl, Spike cringed,

"Oh... I don't really have a family. And she's not my sister." Mac frowned apologetically,

"Sorry 'bout that... Ah, uh, didn't realize." Spike waved a hand lazily,

"Nah, it's cool. You didn't know." Mac still looked embarrassingly at the train floor,

"Ah still feel bad." Spike shrugged.

"Eh. Whatever." Mac scratched the back of his head, suddenly absorbed in the awkward silence he had created, "Tori's basically my guardian until I turn eighteen. Then-pbbbt." He blew over his tongue and gestured out the window with his thumb, "I'm outta here." Mac nodded,

"Seems like a plan. Whattya do?" He questioned further,

"I... I like to work, I guess." Mac looked at him in astonishment.

"That's a first fer me. Work like what?"

"Oh, usually I do oddjobs for Tori. Grocery shopping, list-making, carrying her stuff, helping her study. Shit like that."

"Do ya... ya know... do stuff for fun ?" Spike pulled out his GameDragon and wiggled it.

"This is my fun." Mac eyes widened,

"Wow... Is that...?" Spike looked at him, a bit red,

"Yeah, it's a bit old... but it's mine." Mac looked impressed,

"That thing could be worth a small fortune, Spike." The green-haired boy looked at hm, confused, then looked at the ancient system.

"What? How? Thing's like... twelve years old." Mac winked at him,

"Some of the best apple cider is over twelve years old." Spike was awestruck. His GameDragon? Worth something?

"Nah you're messin' with me." Mac shook his head, "This old guy can't be worth anything. Plus I've only got one game." Mac held out his hand, invitingly. Spike tossed the game system to him, and it landed in his palm, dwarfed. Looking closely he examined the back.

"Wow! A first edition portable GameDragon." Carefully handing the game and game system back to their owner, he watched as Spike looked at the electronic game.

"I...I dunno, Mac. I don't think I could ever get rid of this. It's been with me, like, forever." Mac gave an understanding smile.

"That's an honorable sentiment, Spike." Spike returned the GameDragon to his large purple pocket, "It shows ya'll have integrity."

They continued to talk and laugh, and Spike realized that they had a lot in common. They both loved Star Battlefront(the sci-fi epic that sparked an entire generation of fans; starring the ever famous Duke Hightrotter, Hans Polo and Princess Neigha.), a love of artificial banana flavoring, and football(the local highschool team that Mac just happened to be a part of.). They talked of their favorite scenes in Star Battlefront; and that, if given the opportunity, would watch the entire series together sometime, as well as the plays recently in the Ultra Bowl, Equestria's premier gathering of all the best football teams of each season.The two continued to talk all along the ride, laughing, minutes turned into an half an hour, and that half an hour turned into two hours. Meanwhile, Tori(amazingly) slept the entire way, slightly tossing and turning in her sleep, occasionally, at one point latching onto Spike's arm and refused to let go for a solid fifteen minutes before Spike managed to pry off her pale arms.

Eventually a sound 'bonged' over the intercom of the train:

"We will be arriving in Ponyville in five minutes. We hope you enjoyed your ride on the Canterlot-Dodge Junction line. Thank you for riding with the fastest train line available direct to Ponyville and Canterlot. Please disembark only when the engine has come to a complete stop. Thank you. And have a nice day.". Spike poked Tori's head sharply.

"Oi. Wake up." Tori drowsily opened her eyes and yawned, before looking to Spike,

"Spike what-awwgh..." She yawned, "-what time is it?" Spike checked his phone.

"'Bout two-fourty."

"Are we there yet?" Spike nodded, and grabbed his duffel. Mac copied the action, and slung his red duffel over his shoulder. Tori suddenly realized there was a behemoth in her presence, and turned to Mac.

"Umm... Spike?" She whispered in his ear, "Who is that?" Mac waved,

"Howdy, miss." Spike turned to Tori,

"That's Mac. Macintosh Abbey. He lives in Ponyville." Tori nodded, narrowing her eyes at Spike,

"Well that solves one mystery, now onto the next one; what is he doing here?" Spike rolled his eyes at Tori.

"He needed a seat." Tori grimaced, before giving a forced smile to Mac,

"N-nice t-to meet you... Uh... Mr. Abbey, was it?" The train screeched to a halt, brakes squealing on the iron rails, jolting both Spike and Tori forward. Mac extended his hand, stopping both Spike and Tori from lurching into him. Smiling gently, he proffered the hand to Tori, who eyed it suspiciously before gingerly moving it up and down.

"Pleasure's all mine, Miss Sprackle." Grabbing her bag, she placed it on the ground and began to wheel it out towards the platform door,

"C'mon Spike!" She called over her shoulder. Spike looked to Mac,

"Told ya she was a huge pill." Mac smiled after her and shook his head,

"Naw, mah youngest sister was just like her." The two followed the young woman who was squinting in the summer sun and pulling a small purple umbrella out of her bag to protect her skin from the harmful rays, "She was just like that, 'til she met her friends. Then she really come out of her shell." Spike shrugged, "I think her teacher had the right idea sending her here to make friends." The two disembarked off the train, and headed a bit down the road.

The town was quaint, at least to Spike. Basic wooden A-beam huts lined the sides of the street, and dirt roads lined with grass snaked past the buildings to a large rotunda-like building. People walked, talked and smiled, many of them waving to Mac in greeting, as 'Welcome back!'s and 'Good to see you!'s were directed at the Abbey man, who responded in kind with a drawling 'Eeeyup." to each one. Spike continued to walk beside Mac, and made mental notes about where everything was. 'That must be the pen... and...sofa store?' Tori walked ahead, safe under her umbrella and reading a map, obviously trying to find where she was going. Coming to a fork in the road, the left of which led off into another road, barren except for a long fence which blocked off a couple of pastures on either side. The right fork led deeper into town, people walking in and out of shops and awnings while a Spike could make out what looked like a park fountain. Tori had taken the right route and was now standing in front of a large tree-shaped building.

Mac looked down the road, before turning to Spike and holding out a fist,

"Well, this is where Ah gotta go. Mah family's farm is just a ways down the road, ya ever need some extra money, or ya just wanna hang out, you're welcome to stop by anytime. It's Sweet Apple Acres." Spike smiled widely and bumped the colossal fist with his own.

"Really? I think I might have to take you up on that sometime." Mac smiled turned down the left path, waving goodbye as he did so. Spike's grin grew even wider. He's made a friend. He turned to the right fork. However just as he was about to turn, he heard the familiar sound of electronic sounds. Turning around, he spotted an arcade. Children were gathered around the front, which was a wide open building the was lined with rows and rows of video games, from Steer Fighter, to Mule Kong. Digging around in his pockets for a minute, he produced a single quarter. walking up to the front he saw an old photo on the front wall. It was black and white photo with a man standing next to a single machine in the building. It was obviously a photo from when the arcade first opened... which, as Spike noticed offhandedly, was about twelve years ago. looking at his quarter, and then looking into the arcade, he grinned.

"I think I've got time for one game."

Author's Note

Nothing really to say. Although I did fix the POV from the first chapter.