Dust on the Bottle

Discord sighed, crossing his claws over his long body as he sat nearby where the mares had seen their friend last.

“For the last time,” he addressed them, tiredly rubbing his fingers at the bridge of his nose, then counting off his words with his digits. “She didn't explode. She isn't dead,” he glanced at Pinkie Pie. “And she didn't transform into an invisible velociraptor either, Pinkie.”

“Darn. I was so sure of that guess too,” she pouted, crossing her forelegs in thought. “Hmm... how about...” She suddenly came alive, her hoof making a noise not quite unlike a snapping finger. “She transformed into a fly, but only partway, so she's all like 'help me!'” Pinkie squeaked out in a small, high-pitched tone. “But we can't hear her, so we just try to swat at it!”

After a long, dead pause between everyone, Rainbow Dash smacked a mosquito that had stung her.

“Rainbow Dash! No!” the pink ball of energy rocketed towards the mare, peeling off the mosquito's remains from the pegasus's hoof and clutching the squashed bug tightly to her heart. “Applejack! Are you ok!? Talk to me!”

“It was a dimensional gate,” Twilight Sparkle realized, turning to Discord and ignoring Pinkie being Pinkie. “I can sense your magical residue on the spell's area of effect.”

“Hmm...” Discord thought, stroking his beard. “I don't know how I did that. Too much salsa last night, I guess. At most I'd figure a miscast teleportation spell to send her to Everfree, or turning her into stone, or maybe I'd just give her fatter thighs. Multidimensional stuff has got to be a one in a million shot from me.” He beamed slightly, nodding smugly. “Still got it.”

“This is serious!” Twilight Sparkle rebuked, her wings spread slightly in agitation. “With her gone into a dimensional gate, it's going to be forever before we can find her.”

“A d-dimensional gate?” Fluttershy quietly gasped. “W-what's that mean?”

“It means that wherever Applejack is, it sure isn't Equestria.” She looked up at the sunny sky with a frown.

“Can't you just... oh, I dunno...” Rainbow Dash quickly poked Twilight's horn. “Use that thing and get her back?”

“It's chaos magic, it's so different from my own that I wouldn't even know where to start.”

“Then make him do it,” Dash said, glancing over at Discord.

“Yeah, because I know where she is in the other fourteen-thousand seven hundred and eleven other universes.” Discord rolled his eyes.

“Well, it wouldn't be proper to not do something to try and find her,” Rarity concluded in. “Boorish, uncouth nature or not, Applejack is a dear friend of ours.”

“We're just going to have to do it the hard way: travel to Canterlot and gain Celestia's permission to analyze the worlds one at a time until we find her. Discord should be able to find her scent if we go through them one at a time. From there, it should be just as simple as traveling to the other world and taking her back.”

“Finding her scent?” Rainbow Dash asked with a smirk. “What is he, part dachshund?”

Discord laughed heartily, then his expression took a turn for the serious. “Eighth Rottweiler, my grandmother's side, actually.”

000

Applejack shivered from the cold, some of the worst she had felt in a long time. She brought her back legs up to her chest and wrapped her forelegs around them as she lay in her bed. As sleep slowly left its grasp on her, something felt off. AJ opened her eyes and was so overwhelmed she had to take a moment to even process what was going on.

She lay in an unfamiliar bed, wrapped tightly in a heavy blanket. The room was modestly posh—an odd juxtaposition between some of Applejack's southern charm and Rarity's appeal to class. A wide bed with beautifully designed quilts alongside a carved and polished hoofrest. Heavy cashmere curtains obscuring a large glass door that lead to a snow covered balcony. A vanity at the far end of the room and a door to her left. A vanilla candle wafted its scent from a nearby nightstand, where a small framed picture of a creature adorned in a tuxedo stood. Jack reached her hoof from under the blanket and froze.

Her orange hoof was gone—replaced by a flat, square end the color of a dark bronze, with five narrower protrusions coming out of it.

What these things called? Fingers? Yeah. That's what that there Iron Bill fella had. Fingers and hands.

She brought the digits up to her face to look at them closer and realized something.

Her muzzle was gone too. She took her other mutilated hoof out from the blanket and felt frantically along her face, horrified at its complete alteration. It felt misshapen, oval.

She needed to see herself. She had to. Applejack threw off the blanket and turned to the side, automatically preparing to rise off the bed. The farmpony froze, not for the first time in the last agonizing moments.

Her body was completely changed. Elongated, hairless, with two modestly large mounds of flesh a little way below her neck. Jack noted a nipple on each one.

Not flat an' kinda hidden like a pony's, she mused. Kinda like a cow's udder, but teat's a lil' smaller. She found relating the experience to something she knew about reassuring in a way.

Having enough of looking at her body; she rose, briefly overcome with vertigo—her body had to be double her normal height, maybe even triple. Sure, everything in the room was scale to her new size, but years of working the fields and relying on her body to muscle through dozens of dangers made her acutely aware of the changes.

And that line of thought brought her right back to where she started.

She needed a mirror. She needed to see all of herself.

AJ finally gained enough confidence to take a step forward, shifting her bizarrely backwards knees in a jilting motion and moving the flat of her odd shaped hooves onward.

She stumbled and landed in a crumpled heap on the violet and blue carpet.

How in the whole of Equestria does Spike manage this all the time? Applejack pondered in between swears harsh enough to make any sailorpony blush.

AJ pushed herself up and experimentally pulled herself forward on her knees, dragging her legs behind her like they were crippled. She crossed the carpet and hoisted herself up on the vanity, then leaned forward, gazing deeply at the reflection as her legs trembled.

The face that stared back at her was unrecognizable, save for her expressive green eyes and the small, white freckles that kissed her dark bronze cheeks. Her mane hung long on her body, reaching all the way down to her thick, muscled thighs. She noticed something off-colored on the far side of her thighs—she quickly twisted her backside over and let out a small sigh of relief.

Her three apple cutie mark still stood proudly on her body, resting just above and to the side of the crack of her butt.

That was all well and good, but... what now?

She frowned, taking a step towards the bed and falling once more.

Consarnit, she hissed in her thoughts, slowly rising and rubbing at one of her strangely placed udders. Thing was sensitive.

She made her way back to the bed and sat. Now that she didn't have something to occupy herself with—a goal in mind to accomplish, she realized how sensitive her body had become—even now, her bare skin broke out into gooseflesh at the cold; she quickly moved her hands over the blanket on the bed and wrapped herself tightly into it. She noticed how soft the material was. The farmpony twitched her hands slightly, all but awed at how if she concentrated, she could move the individual appendages on her paw.

I'm startin' ta act like Twilight, AJ wryly thought. It was true in a way—usually Applejack just took things at face value and ran with it. This, though, wasn't any usual situation. Keeping this situation in detached, impartial observation helped keep her calm. If she thought about how she felt over the whole thing, she might start screaming and never stop.

The doorknob to her left turned and slowly opened, revealing another creature like the one AJ had become, only shorter, paler and a bit softer. She wore a dress that could have easily been at home on Rarity—a lacy sort of deal that Jack was sure the fashionista would call 'daring'. The plunging neckline showed off a decent amount of the other's skin and udders, alongside bringing attention to a pendant she loosely wore around her collarbone.

What caught Jack's attention most was the creature's face. Muzzle was, of course, off, as were a few other proportions, but everything else seemed perfect. Her brow, her soft, warm green eyes, her pretty lips, the beauty mark below her eye. There was no mistake. AJ knew her.

“Glad you're up,” the other said in a proper southern accent a hair less noticeable than AJ's own pronounced drawl. “Was afraid you'd catch a sickness from the cold you were in.” She nodded down to the tray in her hands with two cups that had steam rising off of them. “Got some hot tea. It should help with the chill a bit.”

Jack took one and noted how warm the cup was resting against her digits. She sipped it and was grateful that her sense of taste didn't seem too different. The beverage was hot and bittersweet, just the way she liked her tea on chilly nights back home.

Home.

Where was she? How far was home?

More importantly: how could she even get back?

“I was going to have a kettle to myself, but I heard you banging around a bit up here, so I made a second cup,” the odd looking mare said.

Do I call her a mare? What do I call these things?

She pushed the fleeting thought away. “T-thanks,” AJ hoarsely stammered out, the voice—her voice—coming out from this new body feeling so alien and wrong that the digits on her back hooves curled.

Toes, a small voice told her, sounding suspiciously like Twilight Sparkle. Toes. Fingers on the front legs. Like a monkey or a minotaur.

“I have some clothing for you, when you finish your drink—they may be a bit snug, but I'm sure it'll be an improvement.”

“Thanks, Cherry.” AJ nodded, then winced at her mistake. If Twilight had drilled anything into her head after that 'mirror incident' as she called it, it was to never make the mistake of thinking they were the same pony as they were on the right side of the portal. Similar, but different.

The other paused, briefly looking surprised. “How'd you know my name, honey?”

“Uh...” She froze, turning her fairly simple-minded brain into overdrive. “It's what's on the sign out front, ain't it?” she asked, recalling how Cherry Jubilee—her world's Cherry—had her farm laid out. She hoped she was on the right track as she gestured a hand at the woman's dress. “I Jus' figured yer the proprietor of this here operation by yer looks.” She bit at her lip and glanced up and to the side.

After a long pause, 'Cherry' slowly nodded, her face showing obvious skepticism. “The workers said you were unconscious.”

Applejack gave a nervous shrug, not saying even a syllable. Shootfire. Couldn't have been Rarity or somepony else here, could it? She'd be able ta stretch the truth like it was putty-goop from one of her fru-fru makeup kits.

“Well, either way, you lucked out on your guess. I'm Sherri Jubilee, owner of this here property.”

“Ma'am,” Jack said, tilting her head slightly and reaching for the rim of her stetson on instinct. She patted her head and paused, surprised at the lack of her most essential accessory.

“Got your hat with the clothes I laid out for you,” Sherri said, guessing that's what the blonde's plight was. “Though that hat in a way just gives me more questions.”

AJ took a small drink of her tea, trying to hide her shaking hoofs—hands, she corrected, from being seen. “Q-questions, ma'am?”

“Of course.” She paused, seeming to wrestle with herself on how best to approach this. “I mean, some of my boys found you in a sorry state—nude as you were born, save for the hat, and lying down in the snow.” Sherri sipped at her tea, not speaking for a moment. “It gives a... strange first impression, doesn't it?”

“Reckon it might,” AJ admitted.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Sherri giving a long, hard look at the former mare. Finally, she sighed. “So, what's your story, hon?”

“'Bout how I got here?”

Sherri nodded, sipping again at her drink.

AJ thought long and hard about what to say.

Horsefeathers. Yer not gonna get anywhere lyin' 'bout it.

“Ain't sure if yer gonna believe me,” she finally said, looking straight at the her. Still, she spoke. “I was with my friends back at my town. One of 'em cast a teleportin' spell or somethin', an...” She shrugged. “Here I am.”

“A spell?” Sherri flatly asked. “Like magic?”

“What? Y'all don't got that here?” AJ asked, scratching her head. “Well shootfire. Now I'm even more worried 'bout gettin' home...”

She ran a hand over the frills of her long, delicate skirt and gave a doubtful gaze Applejack's way. “So you're saying you're a wizard of some kind?”

“Shoot no! I'm jus' a good ol' fashioned farmpony.”

“...Farmpony...” Sherri dryly said. “Mmm-hmm.”

“I ain't lyin'!” AJ barked, scowling.

“Do you have any proof?”

“P-proof?” Applejack blanched. She took a moment and breathed out. After a moment of thought her expression turned serious. Powerful, as she looked at Sherri. “I ain't got nothin'. Only thing I can do is I can give ya my word.”

She was about give a cutting retort, but her words got caught in her throat on seeing the other like she was.

Her narrowed eyes and neutral frown reminded her of Logan, in a way. He had that same hard, uncompromising expression when half their harvest got ruined thanks to faulty seals on the wine casks. It was an honest, grim look of conviction that he carried when he told her that things would be alright.

Anytime he had that expression, things did.

Sherri gathered her thoughts and bit at her lip, deciding on something. “What's your name, hon?”

“Applejack.”

“Like the drink?”

“Like the drink.”

Sherri's lips quirked slightly. “Well, Applejack, what's your plan?”

AJ opened her mouth. After a long, awkward pause, she shut it and took to scratching a chin. “Ain't got an idea. I reckon if I sit tight near where ya'll found me, Twilight'll come fer me.”

“And just how long will that take?”

“I... I dunno,” Applejack admitted. “Ain't like this has happened ta me before.”

“What will you do for food in the meantime? Shelter? What if she doesn't—“

“She'll come,” the former pony quickly said. “I trust her.”

“Well, what if it takes a lot longer than what you're thinking, how's that?”

AJ swallowed. “Ain't sure. Jus' gonna have ta hope it's quick.”

Sherri put a finger to her chin. “Earlier, you said you were a... farmpony, was it?”

“Eyup. Born an' raised.”

“Well...”

000

“You told her what?” Marty asked, his jaw nearly unhinged at how far it had dropped from Sherri's news. She glanced over at him, adjusting the tray she carried as she moved towards the kitchen from the foyer, his footsteps marching almost directly behind her.

“I said she could work here.”

“But that's...” he touched his forehead with a finger and gestured at her. “Why?”

“She needed help.”

“Mental help!” Marty argued, pointing up the stairs. “You told me she thought she was a pony—you know, shit on the grass, eat grain, that kind of thing!”

“Ain't sure that's exactly what she meant, hon.” Sherri started to wash the teacups in water at the sink. Marty rolled his eyes and lightly pushed her to the side, taking to washing the cups himself.

“Either way, it's crazy! She's crazy!” He glanced over at her. “Y-you don't believe her, right?”

“Hon, I may have a few years on me, but I'm not senile. Of course not.” She leaned on the counter, resting the small of her back against the edge. “I believe that she believes, though.”

“Oh, well, if she believes, it's all go—no,” he said, quickly shaking his head. He put the cups on a nearby towel and wiped his ebony hands onto the tail of his shirt. Sherri rolled her eyes at the action—Logan used to do the same thing, and she'd get so mad at him when she did laundry. “Mom, she needs help.”

“And we're giving it to her.”

“No. I'm talking, like, hospital help or something. You know what I mean.”

Sherri nodded, a distant expression on her face. “I do.” She looked at her hands. “But we can't do that, Marty.”

“I-I-It's like everything I'm saying is just going right through.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Why aren't we?”

“There would be fallout, for one.” She sighed. “Like you and Mr. West said: profits have been slim. Can you imagine the scandal it would cause if someone from our home, even a stranger, got sent to a sanatorium?”

He gave a small tilt of his head. “I didn't think those still existed.”

“Well, not in the traditional sense, obviously. But do you understand what I mean?”

He nervously crossed his arms, tapping a shoe against the tiled flooring. “So we're just keeping her here indefinitely?”

“Now, did I say that either, hon?” She rose off of the countertop. “We just give her a bit of time. I've got a theory.”

“Oh, a theory. Great.” He looked away briefly, rubbing his mouth, then glanced at her. “What? That she's got fake memories or somethin'?”

“Something like that. A repressed memory, maybe.”

“Are you serious?” he loudly asked. “That's a load of Goddamned bullshit!”

“Swear.”

“Sorry,” He put his hands in his pockets. “But come on! That's the kind of crap you hear about in trashy books and movies.”

“And you hear about nude women falling from the sky on a daily basis as well,” she countered.

He sighed, but said nothing, looking at her with his brown eyes.

“I sincerely believe that the woman had something traumatic happen to her, be it a kidnapping, or, God forbid, a rape. Odds are she fell off of the freeway and is simply creating this situation in her mind to hide from it.”

“...I still say we should take her some place.”

“Again, we can't risk the scandal. At least not right after Logan...” she trailed off, swallowing. These kind of things just had to happen all at once. “Besides, if we take care of her and just talk it out, I'm sure she'll eventually come around.”

“We need someone with expertise on that sort of stuff. We can't just expect her to come around.”

“It worked for you.”

Marty paused, wincing slightly. He had always been a bit rough around the edges, but back when he was twelve? He was a hair shy of juvy. Thefts, robberies, even sent a grown man to the hospital once—son of a bitch had tried to steal his shoes when he was sleeping on a porch-step. That changed when he had trespassed on Sherri and Logan's property and tried to steal some jewelry. They had caught him, and instead of contacting the police, Logan made him work off his debt.

It took a bit, but eventually, they got close.

Sherri quickly corrected herself, “You know I don't mean that hatefully, dear.”

“I know, I know.” He smiled wryly. “I was one hell of a punk, though.”

“And if we had went to the proper authorities back then, who knows what would of happened?” She frowned. “I think Logan would have done it this way too.”

“Just...” He put his fingertips to a temple. “If it seems like she's not making any recovery in, I dunno, a month or something. We gonna kick her out then?”

“It wouldn't be 'kicking out.' We would just make sure she gets taken care of by better hands than ours. As for a time limit, I suppose that should be for the best. The poor girl couldn't live here forever.”

“Then we're agreeing? One month, and if she isn't better by then...” He thrust his thumb towards the front door.

“Yes,” she agreed. “And we'll keep an eye open for missing people reports. Maybe we can wash our hands of this early.”

“I'll check every day.”

“Mmm.” Sherri briefly rubbed the pendent she wore. “I suppose I should check up on our guest. I'd say she's dressed by now.”

She left the kitchen, then went and climbed up the stairs. After a few steps down the hallway, she came to the guest bedroom and knocked on the door. “Applejack? I'm coming in.”

Sherri opened the door to find the blond all but scowling in a long skirt with no top on, a bra hanging by her wrist and the button-up shirt Sherri had provided laying in a heap on the floor.

“How in tarnation do ya work this thing?!” AJ loudly snapped, grabbing the bra and shaking it in her clenched fist. Sherri let an unrefined guffaw out.

“Come on, I'll help.” She took the piece of clothing and went around Applejack's back. The former farmpony turned to watch her; Sherri put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her forward again, then grabbed one arm, putting it through the shoulder straps, then the other. “It's not that difficult—just have a few latches near your back.”

“Kinda hard when ya can't see 'em,” AJ replied. “Ain't even like I'm used ta these finga—fingers,” she corrected herself. “An' how in the heck ya supposed ta do that behind yerself?”

“Have you really never wore a bra before?” Sherri dubiously asked, moving Applejack's hair to the side and quickly latching the object shut. Wasn't like the girl was 'small' by any means—this sort of thing should be second nature to her by now.

“Ain't like I had these things when I was a pony,” she said, lifting up her breasts and letting them drop. “Things are jus' gonna get in the way of workin'.”

Sherri rolled her eyes at the pony talk, but said nothing. An idea came to her. “Speaking of working, how much do you know about farming?”

“Apples ta Zucchini—not ta boast or nothin', ma'am.”

She laughed. “Well, I might have a bit of a job for you. I have a greenhouse nearby—“

Behind the house, near where they store casks, AJ remembered, feeling an odd sense of free-falling for a moment. How this creature who was and wasn't Cherry Jubilee was here, talking to her. The idea just seemed so... otherworldly. Then again, she was in another world, so it made sense, in a strange, backwards way.

She continued to speak, Applejack nodding where it seemed appropriate—years of listening to Rarity prattle on and on about something not even worth a second of her time had finally paid off. Cherry—

Sherri, AJ reminded herself.

Sherri picked up the shirt the farmpony had thrown in frustration and brought it over to AJ, walking lightly in the long, well-made dress she wore.

“...So after dinner you should get some rest, tomorrow we're going to work you up a sweat,” she finished with a small, weak smile and a wink.

“Ya can count on me ta make sure things get done in there,” AJ agreed, meeting the other's eyes.

“That's my kind of woman,” Sherri said, reaching for the doorknob. “After an hour or so, I'd be happy to show you around, by the way.”

Don't need it.

“Tah-tah, hon. I'll have your dinner brought to you by one of the workers, now that you're decent.” Sherri shut the door behind her as she left.

AJ tossed her body onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

“So that's what I am? I'm a 'woman.'” She put her hands behind her head, enjoying the feel of her mane against the sensitive digits. With that thought in mind, and a brief, punch-in-her-gut longing for her friends back in Ponyville, Applejack fell asleep, skipping dinner and not moving until well after the rooster crowed.