Applejack woke up to the sound of clatter coming from downstairs. Dishes clinking, talking, hoofsteps.

Late breakfast? she thought, rubbing her face with a hoof and wondering what Granny had cookin' today. Hopefully apple pancakes. AJ felt like she hadn't ate 'em in—

She woke up further, remembering mutely that that her hoof was a hand, and it sure as sugar wasn't her granny doin' any cooking. AJ shook her head, rising. She put her hands near her kidneys and leaned back, popping her spine, then felt a familiar pressure at her lower stomach.

Guess women need ta pass water like ponies, she thought. Guess it makes sense—ain't like they don't eat, Sherri was talkin' 'bout food fer a bit there 'fore I conked out.

AJ stumbled forward as she took a cautious step. She leaned heavily on the wall, making sure to keep her balance and grow a hair more comfortable in her new body. Making it to the door, she bent down towards the knob and opened her jaw, then paused. Instead, she extended her hand and clasped it over the metal, once more shocked at the strange, cool and smooth texture her fingertips spoke of. She turned the handle and went through, taking a few more cautious steps into the hallway. The voices became less muted and more pronounced. At least three lower, baritones—

What do they call stallions? Notwoman? O-or is 'woman' what ya call the species—like we call ourselves ponies? Jack bit at her lip in frustration—leave it up to her of all the ponies she knew to have to deal with this kinda stuff. Anyone else, even RD, would probably have half these damn terminologies figured out by now.

Regardless, the notwomen continued to speak to one another, alongside a voice of a slightly higher, but still masculine pitch—an older colt?

Then she heard Sherri's voice; reserved, thoughtful and keen, her words unintelligible, but her tone sounding motherly.

Well, she is their matriarch. Kinda makes sense. Jack rolled her eyes at her own thoughts, then used the guardrail to slowly guide her way through the halls, dead-set on finding a bathroom.

As she slowly made her way on her unsteady hind-legs, her thoughts crept back to Rainbow Dash, from there, to Twilight. Where was that girl? Sure, AJ told Sherri she wasn't sure when Twilight Sparkle'd show up, but she didn't think it'd be real long. To be honest, she wasn't expecting to be here even an hour, let alone a day. What was the holdup?

Was she too far away or something? Was her situation so different from normal that Twilight couldn't sense her or something?

If that was the case... would she ever see her friends and family again?

Stop.

She caught sight of an open door on her left. Inside, tile and a porcelain toilet. Doing her best to ignore her thoughts, she rose off the banister and took a few clumsy steps forward, throwing her arms out like a trapeze artist. The farmer shut the door behind her and took a heavy, shuddering breath.

No. Stop.

She wiped hard at her eyes with the the sleeve of her shirt. Crying wasn't going to help. Even with that in mind, it took all of the power in the world to fight back at how scared she was right now. She went on autopiliot, lifting her skirt and dropping her underwear as she sat, a small part thankful that this body's mareparts and her own were fairly close to a match. Celestia knows she didn't need anything else to go wrong.

AJ thought long and hard for a few moments. If... if this was it, if she wasn't getting back home, she had regrets. She coulda been a better sister to Mac. She took advantage of his easy nature sometimes. She coulda showed Applebloom more about the farm—if she wasn't making it back, Applebloom had some big horseshoes to fill.

Coulda listened to her granny more—taken care of her better.

She coulda been a better friend.

Coulda tried to stop and smell the flowers more instead of just working the job.

Coulda, coulda, coulda.

She bit her hand hard to stop the tears from falling. She wasn't Rarity. She wasn't gonna cry. She wasn't. AJ held back a sob as small pinpricks of blood ran down her mouth, acutely aware at how much it hurt.

It took strength far beyond what she thought she had, but she finally calmed down and rose, stepping back outside, her movements slightly more competent as she slowly grew used to her body. The only thing she could do now was hope. Hope that Twilight'd find her and hope that she'd be able to make things right.

Applejack made her way downstairs and was nearly blown away by the smells of cooking. A scent of sweetness from pancakes, buttery biscuits, and an odd, savory, almost bitter scent she had never smelled before. It was hearty, and, though Jack couldn't put it to words, smelled more delicious than anything she had ever smelled before—her mouth was salivating hard enough that she had to swallow twice as she went from the lobby and into the kitchen, where Sherri and several notwoman cleaned. The woman looked up, noticing AJ.

“Sorry, you just missed breakfast, hon. Got some leftovers I can warm up in a jiffy, though.”

AJ glanced over the kitchen, before her sights settled on an old friend in a large bowl on a nearby counter. The former farmpony quickly yanked an apple from the bowl and gave it a quick cleaning rub on her clothes before biting into it. She nearly buckled over in surprise. Nothing in her life had ever tasted as good as this single, solitary apple. It was only after AJ felt the eyes of the older woman on her that Applejack even took a moment from ravenously tearing into her meal to speak. “Nah, I'm good. Thanks, Cherry.”

“Sherri,” she corrected.

“Thorry,” Applejack replied, her cheeks pouched out from the improvised breakfast. She swallowed hard, then quickly spoke before she had second guesses on eating breakfast. “Reckon I'll get ta work—ain't like what yer wantin' me ta do in the greenhouse is gonna get done with me jus' standin' here.”

“True.” She glanced over at one of the notwoman in the room. “Hans,” she addressed. The oldest glanced up, his lined face caked with experience.

“Yes ma'am?” he addressed.

“Go with Jack.”

He nodded, folding the towel he was wiping down the kitchen with and tossing it onto the counter. “Yes ma'am.”

They left the house; like AJ remembered from her Cherry's farm, the greenhouse was near the wine cellar. She entered and was briefly stunned.

Weeds flooded the area, choking what little produce still lived in here. Thorny bushels, poison ivy, thick crabgrass, even bindweeds climbing up the wooden support beams and nearly touching the rafters.

“Horsefeathers,” Applejack swore under her breath. “What happened here?”

“Neglect,” Hans stated, giving an appraising look at the disaster. “After Sherri's husband got sick, poor girl just didn't have the heart to work it, and us menfolk didn't have the time, with all that needs done around here.” He sighed, taking a few steps on the hard packed dirt and grabbing a pair of worn and rusty shears, looking them over as he continued talking. “You came at an odd time, miss.”

“That so?” AJ asked, catching when he said 'menfolk.' One question answered, at least.

“Things have been hard on us. Hard on Miss Jubilee even moreso. She keeps how she's feeling under lock and key, but...” He opened and shut the shears a few times, working the stiffness out of its joints. “I can tell she's hurting. You don't get my age without learning how people really feel inside.”

“Her husband... was he a good menfolk?” AJ asked, deciding to work on cleaning up the briar patch farther back.

Hans tilted his head slightly at her odd usage of the word, but nodded. “A good man and a good friend of mine. Had a damn keen business sense too.”

Applejack nodded, grabbing the thorny branches with her bare hands and pulling them out by the base. She tossed them towards the center as Hans paused.

“Miss, do you need some gloves for that?”

AJ shook her head, keeping on with her work. “Why would I? Ain't like this is messy.”

“Well, no,” he agreed. “But I'm just surprised one of 'em hasn't bit you yet.”

“Bite me?” the former farmpony replied, cautiously staring at the plants. “Didn't know these things had mouths.” Everfree had nothing on this place, apparently.

He chuckled, going to work on clearing the left side of the room with the shears as AJ wrapped her hands around the plants and once more pulled them out by the roots.

“So, Sherri said you were a farmer.”

“Eyup. Born an' raised one,” she replied with a small hint of pride, wiping her hands on her pants.

“It's honest living,” Hans commented.

“Honest livin' is kind of my thing,” Applejack replied, not even sparing a glance away from her work. She briefly stopped. Something felt off with the plants here. Shutting her eyes she paused, listening intently. “There's somethin' in these weeds.”

The old man glanced over. “A snake?” he asked. “Should I get my gun?”

Gun? “Nah. Ain't a snake... there's a blueberry bush here.”

“Oh?” He walked towards the farmer and scratched at his silvery hair. “Miss, I can't see anything in there.”

“It's there. I can feel it.”

“Feel it?” he repeated. “I'm not sure how—“

AJ tore into the brush, digging through the thorns like a dog pawing through dirt.

“Ma'am!” Hans exclaimed, grabbing a wrist. “You'll hurt...” He stared hard at her hand, a hand not even slightly scuffed despite what she was doing. “...Yourself.” Reaching forward, he trailed a shaking finger over her palm. “Your hands are like leather,” he stated.

“Knock it off,” she said, pulling her hand back and scratching at where he touched. “Darn thing's kinda sensitive.”

“Sensitive?” He shook his head. “Compared to what? A hoof?”

Applejack blinked. “Uh, yeah, actually. Sherri not say anything?”

“Only that you had something traumatic happen, and we were to assist you in any way we could.”

AJ gave an unsure glance at the thorns, then nodded. “I-I gotcha.” She turned back to her work. She probably told 'em I was a lil' crazy too, Applejack thought with a scowl. She pulled a few more thorny weeds out of the way, then nodded. “Take a gander.”

Hans moved past her and squatted down, staring through the weeds. Sure enough, there was a small, nearly dead bushel of blueberries struggling to survive in the choking grasp of the weeds. “You're right,” he marveled, then glanced towards her. “How'd you...?”

“Told ya. I felt it.”

“I'm sure Missus Sherri'd love to see this. Would you clear it out a bit while I grab her?”

“Eyup,” AJ agreed, once more pawing at the weeds around the plant. Hans quickly turned about-face and left, leaving the farmer to her thoughts.

He dang near seemed like he saw a ghost. She threw a few more weeds to the side, then glanced down at her hand. It seemed odd to her that he'd react like her digits were real tough. She knew for a fact they weren't like this when they were hooves. She could feel every bump and flex of them, could almost feel the stuffy greenhouse air resting heavily on them. In a way, they were kinda neat.

Footsteps drew here away from her thoughts. Sherri stepped into the greenhouse.

“Hans said you had something to show me?”

AJ nodded, moving to the side. “I ain't sure what the deal is. Jus' a nice surprise.”

The woman paused, her hands tightly hugging the hem of her skirt. “Those are...”

“Blueberries.” She pushed her stetson back, pausing on seeing how wracked with pain Sherri's face became. “Uh... ya alright, sugarcube?”

“T-those were Logan's...” She breathed out. “He used to love anything I made with blueberries. Pies, muffins, cobbler. Seeing one here, hidden away like it is—it's a sign that's he's watching out for me still.” She weakly smiled. “Sorry, hon. I'm sure you don't want to listen to a woman like me talking like that.”

“Nah. I hear ya.” Applejack tilted her head to the side, putting a thumb to her chin. “I lost my ma and pa when I was a youngin', but there's still stuff I see on occasion ta make me think they ain't gone.”

She nodded at the blonde's words and moved over, looking at the berries. “Shame they're on their last legs, though.”

“What ya mean?” AJ questioned, bending down herself to get a closer look. Sherri pointed at some brown discoloration on the leaves.

“It's dying, Jack.”

“It ain't dead yet,” Applejack argued. “It's still got some fight in it.”

“I don't think so, hon.” She plucked a healthy looking berry from the bush and handed it to AJ. “But it's still got a bit of good left in it. You just need to enjoy it while it lasts.” She plucked another berry and stuck it into her own mouth, giving a small, contemplative glance upwards as she chewed. Applejack looked over the fruit, then stuck it into her mouth, nearly doubling over at its exquisite, divine taste. It was like everything in this world had its flavor cranked up to eleven. She wasn't sure if she could even handle sweets with this mouth, if simple apples and berries did this to her.

“I ain't ready ta jus' let it die. Ya gotta give it a chance.”

“You're a farmer. You know sometimes you got to let these things go.” Sherri reached up and put her hand on Applejack's shoulder. “I suppose I need to return to my own work, hon. Thank you for showing me this.”

She walked off, leaving the former farmpony to scratch her head and glance at the bush.

“I don't care what she says. I'mma make this work.” She squatted low, patting the plant like it was a friendly dog. “An' yer gonna help me, ain't that right, Danny?” With a pause, she reached and plucked a few more berries. “Yer pretty good at makin' these, by the way.”

Author's Note

Hey all. Sorry about the wait on this chapter. I've been busy with My Rarijack piece and My collab. Thanks to me being a bit Godawful when it comes to slice-of-life esque fics like this one, I tend to work on more action-based fiction to recharge my batteries, haha.

Anyway, I appreciate all the positive feedback I've been getting on this piece so far. Hopefully I can continue to deliver something respectable for you guys! Thanks a bunch, I ain't lying when I say you guys make writing stuff like this fun!