Applejack sat in her usual set in the corner of Twilight’s library where the rest of the mane six were gathered together, observing the scene around her.
Rainbow Dash sat talking excitedly with a Spike. The idea that Rainbow Dash was talking about books and the latest Daring Do was a little unsettling to Applejack, but she just chuckled at the notion.
At the other end of the table, Rarity sat talking cheerfully to Fluttershy. The purple haired unicorn was obviously saying something that was making the timid yellow Pegasus uncomfortable, since her cheeks were red. Knowing Rarity, she was either talking about something crude, or potential stallion mates for Fluttershy.
Behind the podium, Twilight and Pinkie Pie were arguing, probably about the budget. Applejack learned long ago that things like logic and reason were wasted on the pink haired earth pony that lived by her impulses. Yet Twilight still persisted.
“Ahem, attention,” Twilight took her place behind the podium, apparently done arguing with Pinkie Pie. Twilight was the defacto leader of the gang, and almost always ran their monthly meetings due to her superior administrative abilities. “I would like to call a meeting to discuss our budget.” Twilight said from her spot behind the podium in a commanding voice. “Today, we will be finalizing the plans for the fundraising auction that we have been planning.”
Pinkie Pie, who had access to the shared funds of the group, had a habit of using the monthly budget they were given for toys and desserts. If the group wanted to do anything, be it go on a trip to Canterlot, or host a celebration in Ponyville, they had earn money and put it into an account Pinkie Pie couldn’t touch.
This time however, they were planning something big, apparently Celestia was going to be visiting Ponyville and Twilight wanted to make an impression.
They had decided to try fundraisers to supplement their budget, however simple things like bake sales and rodeo events weren’t quite enough. Then disastrous jousting matches between Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy resulted in an embarrassing encounter that Applejack was sure the latter would want to forget.
This time, they were going to try something unique. Rarity proposed the idea that the group auction off a date with one of the members. They hadn’t decided on a member yet.
“I have the results of the surveys that I and Pinkie Pie distributed among most of Ponyville.” Twilight shuffled some papers on her desk. The surveys were questionnaires about the different members of the group,, excluding Twilight. They wanted to know the demographics so that they could auction off the member that would net the highest bids.
“It appears that Applejack’s company is in the highest demand, and by quite a large margin at that.” Twilight said as she brought the paper closer to her eyes.
“What?” Rarity and Applejack shouted in unison.
“What do y’all mean? Why?” Applejack scowled. She hadn’t been serious when she offered her name to be submitted. She was using the survey as a way to sell cider better. She wanted to know what people thought of her to try to be more personable.
“Let’s see,” Twilight shuffled some papers. “The most popular reason was your work ethic. Your independent, and a lot of stallions find that attractive.” Twilight continued down the list of responses. “Then there are stallions who think your cold exterior hides a naughty center,” as one stallion put it. Then there are the stallions who think that you’re lonely and they want to rescue you.” Applejack scoffed at the last one.
She was alone by choice, not because a stallion hadn’t swooped in to save her. What were they even rescuing her from? A life without a blundering Neanderthal constantly interfering with her affairs? She liked interacting with Big Mac, but he was family, and that was different.
“She’s also strong, both physically and mentally, and that’s…” Twilight squinted to read the sloppy writing on the paper, “really freaking hot… to some stallions.”
“There are also a disturbingly high number of stallions with bondage and submission fetishes, and they feel that you would be the most obliging in that area with your rope and all.” Twilight readjusted her glasses, blushing. “There are also a disturbingly high number of stallions who are willing to admit that in writing.”
“What about me?” Rarity pointed to herself eagerly. “What did they say about me?” She had thought she would have won by a landslide. She had been making outfits for this date all week.
“Almost everyone said that they felt that they wouldn’t have to try too hard with you.” Twilight answered flatly.
“Most ponies think that Pinkie Pie is too crazy, Rainbow Dash is a lesbian, and Fluttershy reminds ponies of their mothers.” Twilight finished reading the results of the survey.
“So, it looks like we will be offering an evening with Applejack to the highest bidder next week.” Twilight concluded.
“Wait…I didn’t…” Rarity cut Applejack off.
“Relax darling, I’ll help you get ready.” Rarity said cheerfully. While losing to someone as uncouth as Applejack was a blow to her ego, the prospect of a makeover was enough to cheer her back up.
Gritting her teeth, Applejack slumped in her chair in defeat. She had entered her name by choice, she just hadn’t expected to win, so to speak, and she wasn’t about to go back on her word.
This was for her friends, and it’s not like she hadn’t endured far worse. How bad could a date with a stranger who most likely wanted her to hogtie them with a rope be anyways?
A certain golden pegasus laid curled up on a cloud, relaxing for the first time in days, lazily passing the afternoon. Her eyes scanned the passerby’s on the group, observing their behavior.
Spitfire was snapped out of her observation by the sound of a stallion appearing below her. He didn’t seem to notice the pegasus on the cloud that hovered above him, so Spitfire remained still. Ponies were constantly moving through the area Spitfire was currently positioned above, so it was not an unusual occurrence. A few minutes later, another stallion appeared.
“Hey,” one of them greeted the other.
“What’s up,” The other returned the greeting.
“Not much, not much…” The first answered. They talked business for a while, discussing what was happening with the preparations for upcoming events in town. Most of the information Spitfire didn’t really care about, so she simply tuned them out and went back to a frazzled mother trying to appease a crying filly.
“Did you hear about what’s happening with Applejack?” The first stallion asked. Spitfire’s ears perked up, completely focused on the two ponies below her.
“Those mares in the library are finally doing something right for a change. They’re holding an auction next week for a date with Applejack.” The stallion ended excitedly.
“Who would want to…” The second stallion started.
“Are you kidding? I’m putting in all my life savings!” The first stallion interjected.
“Why?” The second stallion sounded horrified.
“Have you seen the way she bucks apples? Can you imagine what she would be like in the sack? The first stallion exclaimed.
“Yeah I can.” The first stallion laughed. “Afterwards, she’d probably tie you up like and leave you in the everfree forest because she no longer has a use for you.” The second stallion said sarcastically.
“As long as she lets me tie her up first, if you know what I mean!” The first laughed heartily. Spitfire felt an irrational rage built up inside her as she heard the stallion talk about Applejack. Hearing the stallions talk about having sex with Applejack, for money at that, made her want to literally claw their eyes out. Not that Spitfire had any right to feel that way. That was even more infuriating.
Spitfire had only met Applejack once, at the Grand Galloping Gala where she noticed a lonely earth pony selling apple products. She was cute, so Spitfire decided to accommodate her and buy some apple pies.
Spitfire guessed it started like that, but she soon craved to see that certain yellow earth pony more and more. That was probably the reason Spitfire spent so many of her days floating above Ponyville.
It had puzzled Spitfire to great extents where everyday she thought she would approach Applejack, only to find that at the very moment before, she just couldn’t.
As time progressed, Spitfire developed something of a crush on the tomboyish earth pony. She hadn’t acted on her feeling for several reasons. The rank and class difference would have just made things complicated. Applejack would have probably refused her because she needed to upkeep her farm. Spitfire didn’t even know if Applejack was interested in girls.
The most crippling impediment, however, was Spitfire’s fear of rejection. While most ponies perceived Spitfire as cold and almost unfeeling, the truth was that she kept her emotions buried because she actually felt very deeply.
It’s okay, Spitfire thought to herself, the future was not without hope.
“A week,” Spitfire mutter aloud as she stretched. “That’s not a lot of time….”
Rarity poked her head out from behind the curtain that concealed the stage. Behind her was an easel with a pad of paper, a single seat, and a podium. The seats in the town square were quickly filling up with eager stallions.
“Wow, looks like it’s going to be a full house.” Rarity said in disbelief.
“Are you serious?” Applejack took a peak as well. The part of her that had thought that the survey answers had been a joke was silenced by the vast number of stallions taking their seats before her.
“It’s almost time to get started.” Twilight stomped her hoof. “Everypony, take your places.” Rarity stood next to the easel and Fluttershy stood behind the podium.
“What in the hay do I do?” Applejack asked, afraid of the answer.
“All you need to do is sit there,” Twilight pointed to the chair,” and try not to look like you’re going to maul the winner.” Begrudgingly, Applejack took a seat.
Spitfire leaned against one of the dark corners of a building near the Town square, scanning the Stallions entering the hall for the perfect candidate. In front of the main entrance, Rainbow Dash stood holding a large box of paddles, each with a different number. Some men took one, others did not.
Spitfire needed someone, safe, someone unassuming. She needed to pick somepony who Applejack couldn’t take seriously as a potential suitor. They also needed to be unconnected with her, so Rainbow Dash wouldn’t work. Also, it was probably a good idea for Spitfire to stay out of Rainbow Dash’s field of vision for today.
Going back to the potential suitor, the more strange he was, and the less likely he would be to actually try and pursue her, the better the odds of Applejack opening up to them and revealing useful information.
After about ten minutes of waiting, Spitfire spotted him. He was young, probably just out Cheerilee’s school, maybe a year or two older than that. The lack of wings or a horn coupled with a cutie mark of a shovel told Spitfire that he probably had something in common with Applejack to talk about.
“Hey, you!” Spitfire called out to the colt. It was an odd phenomenon when someone called out anonymously into a crowd. No matter what the odds, the intended target always seemed to know they were being hailed.
The colt looked around in disbelief for a few moments before realizing that the mare in the corner had called to him. Spitfire waved him over.
“Mrs. S...Spit….Spitfire!” The colt said in surprise when he got close enough to realize who had called him.
“Shhh,” Spitfire hushed him. “try not to attract too much attention, what’s your name?”
“Thorn Spark, ma’am.” Thorn saluted.
“I told you to not draw attention,” Spitfire chided, a little annoyed. “So, Thorn Spark, come to try and win yourself a date with Applejack?” It had been difficult for Spitfire to contain herself as she listened to the lewd and lascivious conversations of the bidders as they passed by.
“Well,” Thorn said thoughtfully, “She is a pretty mare, especially in that dress, I can see why.”
“Listen,” Spitfire took him under her wing. “I want you to win that date.” She poked him in the chest.
“What? Why?” Thorn asked.
“That’s not important right now.” Spitfire explained.
“But how?” Thorn Spark asked. “There are tons more ponies here with loads more bits than I have.”
“I’ll fit the bill.” Spitfire explained.
“Why are you doing this? How do I know that I can trust you?” Thorn Spark asked.
“I give you my word as a member of the Wonderbolts.” Spitfire put her hoof over her heart. “I’ll explain everything later. RIght now, all you have to do is go win that date. I don’t care about how high the bidding goes, just win it!” With that, Spitfire shoved the boy towards Rainbow Dash. Cautiously, he grabbed a paddle and looked for a seat.
The three mares watched as the curtain rose in front of them.
“Good afternoon, boys.” Rarity greeted the crowd flirtatiously. “As you all know, we are holding an auction today for a lovely evening with the owner of Sweet Apple Acres and our neighborhood hero, Applejack.” Rarity motioned to Applejack as if she were a prize on a game show. There was a deafening cheer from the crowd.
“Settle down,” Rarity calmed the crowd. “Before we get started, I’m going to outline just what you should expect on your date.” Rarity lifted up the first, blank sheet on the easel. “you’ll start with dinner at one of the finest restaurants in Ponyville.” Rarity flipped the page. “Then, an after dinner activity of mutual consent.” The words “mutual consent” were underlined. There were jeers from the crowd. “And last, and the end, a good night kiss.” This was met with a pandemonium of cheers and shouts. Applejack could even make out cat-calls over the din.
This was exactly why she hated stallions. When presented with the prospect of sex, no matter how comically slim those chances were, they completely forget what it was to be civil. They became animals hell bent on one thing. Applejack could guarantee that none of the stallions in the crowd would be acting this way if it wasn’t for the fact that one of them would be “buying” her for an evening.
“We’ll start the bidding at 700 bits to cover restaurant and activity costs.” Fluttershy banged a gavel, signaling the start of the auction. Immediately, hundreds of paddles flew into the air. “Do I hear 1000?” Fluttershy asked, her words quiet and measured, very unlike an auctioneer. About half of the hooves fell with disappointed groans.
“Do I hear 1250?” Fluttershy raised the bid. Again, roughly half the hooves fell. Thorn Spark sat with the paddle in his lab, too afraid to bid, lest he be assaulted by some of the stronger, rowdier stallions around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Spitfire with her arms raised and flailing in the air. She was pointing at him with her free hoof. Cautiously, he raised his paddle.
“Do I hear 1500?” Fluttershy raised the stakes yet again. This time, about three fourths of the hooves fell. Suddenly, a large, boorish stallion with unruly hair stood up from his seat and punched the pony next to him, who had been holding his paddle up.
“3000!” The stallion exclaimed confidently. THe entire group of ponies groaned loudly. Curses and jeers were shouted at him.
“3000?” Fluttershy exclaimed in disbelief. That was more that the group needed. She looked to Rarity, who signaled her to keep going. “Do I hear 3250?” The man crossed his arms and smirked confidently. Thorn looked to Spitfire, who was shaking her head feverishly. Fearfully, he raised his paddle.
“3250,” Fluttershy pointed to Thorn. The stallion in the back let out a cry of anguish and began to throw chairs around, screaming. “Do I hear 3500?” No one raised their paddle. The stallion with the unruly hair continued to carry on. “3250 going once,” Still no one challenged, “Twice,” none still, “Sold!” Fluttershy banged the gavel.
Applejack sat in her chair on stage, closely examining the colt who had won the auction, hoping to deter him. Surely, he couldn’t have been much older than Applebloom. Applejack shook her head, this was going to be an awkward night. Unfortunately, Applejack’s weakness was duty. If she perceived it as her duty, she would go through with it, no matter what. If an evening of awkward dinner conversation and a good night kiss would help her friends, then she could endure.
In the dark corner, Spitfire smiled Triumphantly.
Phase one is a success.
“Thanks for letting us use your house as a base of operations, Fleetfoot.” Soarin said as he unloaded the last of the bags that he had been shuttling from his shop. “I would have used my shop, but its a bit too far away for these devices to work.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Fleetfoot waved off the gratitude. “Just don’t break anything.” Fleetfoot looked to the colt who was standing close to Spitfire, looking scared, “Who’s the kid?”
“This is Thornn Spark, the star of the evening.” Spitfire pushed the boy forward to greet another member of her six pony team. He was currently wearing a suit and bowtie, in preparation for the evening.
“Hello, ma’am.” Thorn Spark bowed.
“Don’t touch anything.” Fleetfoot said before she left. Soarin walked over to the workbench that he set up on one of Fleetfoot’s spare rooms. On it was a television, and a tape recorder. Soarin sat down behind the television.
“Did you read over the questions I gave you?” Spitfire turned to Thorn Spark as Soarin tinkered with some wires.
“Yes,” Thorn Spark nodded.
“Remember, ease them into conversation. Don’t just ask them outright.” Spitfire explained. After Spitfire finished fixing his hair, Soarin called him over.
“This,” Soarin held up a tiny, black device. “Is a microphone.” He clipped it into the interior of the suit. “It transmits directly to us, so you don’t have to worry about having a recorder strapped to you.” He turned it on and put on a set of headphones.
“Say something.” Soarin beckoned.
“Uhhhh...test?” Thorn Spark spoke at his regular speaking level. Soaring gave him a hooves up.
“And Spitfire….” Soarin looked at his friend.
“Something?” Spitfire said flatly, standing a few feet away.
“Cute,” Soaring said sarcastically. “Everything is working fine. There’s one more thing I have to give you.” Soarin took out a pair of glasses and handed them to Thorn Spark, who eyed them curiously. “Don’t worry, they're your prescription.” Thorn Spark put them on, and Soarin pressed a button on them. Turning around, he turned the television on. On the screen was everything that Thorn Spark was seeing.
“Wow Thorn Spark looked at the screen. “That’s pretty neat.”
“We all set?” Spitfire asked impatiently.
“I believe so.” Soarin turned around to Thorn. “Go get ‘em tiger.” He said encouragingly.
“Remember,” Spitfire looked him by the shoulder. “If, by some fluke, you get found out, make something up, don’t you dare tell her what actually happened. Don’t you dare tell her you’re a spy for us.” Thorn Spark paled.
“B..but I am a spy!” Thorn Spark gulped.
“Yeah, but not the bad kind.” Spitfire said as she shoved him out of the door. Spitfire watched him exit with a tinge of disappointment.
For once in Spitfire’s life, she was totally out of her element. She hadn’t had a normal childhood since her flying ability was discovered at a very young age. She had never experienced school yard crushes and dates. She had attended a few gift giving ceremonies that were part of her various betrothals, but that was about the extent of the romantic experience. As a result, Spitfire was approaching this situation as she did with flight; gather intelligence on the flying act, and use that information to maneuver yourself into the most advantageous position.
Rarity entered the room where Applejack was sitting with a large box of makeup in her arms.
“You do realize you’re a dressmaker right?” Applejack asked as Rarity slammed the box down on the desk in front of Applejack.
“But that doesn’t mean I can’t look fabulous.” Rarity pushed Applejack down into a chair. She was already wearing a green dress with red designs and slits that ran a little to high for Applejack’s taste, but still managed to restrict Applejack’s legs enough to make her uncomfortable. Rarity began to apply makeup to Applejack’s face.
“Now, here are some guidelines for your evening.” Twilight said as she paced back and forth. “No threats, no physical violence, no verbal abuse, no disappearing half-way through the night….”
“Purse your lips,” Rarity said to Applejack, She applied some lip-stick.
“It’s a date,” Twilight concluded. “Not a scowl. Try to be personable. Hold up your end of the conversation. Answer questions. If you don’t do this adequately, he may withdraw his funds.
“Dont worry,” Applejack reassured as Rarity applied eyeliner. “The colt's barely older than Applebloom, I don’t know how in the hay he got all those bits, but I’m sure it’ll be just like any old conversation with my sister and her friends.” Applejack was approaching the situation in much the same way one would about taking medicine; a necessary evil. Rarity padded Applejack’s cheeks with some rouge.
“And if you put out, we might get a little extra!” Rarity contributed. Her suggestion was met with a pillow to the face. “What, I’m just saying.” She shrugged as she removed the pillow and sprayed Applejack was some perfume.
“Apart from that,” Twilight flipped through her notes. “There really isn't anything else for me to tell you.”
“There, all done.” Rarity smiled approvingly and turned back to the box. She hadn’t touched Applejack’s hair or hat, save for brushing out a few knots. Her hair and hat were her trademark. “You really should wear makeup more often.” She said as she rummaged through the box. She turned around holding two pairs of brown high heels; one with open toes and one with closed. “Which ones?”
“Neither,” Applejack responded coldly. “What’s wrong with the boots I’m wearing now?” She was still wearing her green boots she wore for the Grand Galloping Gala.
“Nothing, if you plan on bucking people in the head.” Rarity replied.
“But what happens if an emergency pops up? I can’t run in those.” Applejack reasoned.
“What happens if you run into a stray bovine? Where’s your rope?” Rarity joked. “It’s a date, you’re not working anymore, that’s why you’re not taking your hat either. If you absolutely have to run, just kick them off.” Sighing in defeat, Applejack chose the ones with the closed toes.
Spitfire and Soarin watched the television as Thorn Spark approached the door to where Applejack was currently located. The colt kept a surprisingly steady head, which they were both thankful for. They watched as Thorn Spark raised his hoof and knocked on the door.
“I suppose I should start these now.” Soarin pressed a button on the tape recorder. THe headphones had been removed from the tape recorder and the sound was running through speakers. Slowly, Applejack’s door opened and Spitfire’s jaw nearly hit the floor.
Applejack was wearing a tight, green dress, that was remarkably different from her usual attire. The dress had red trim and intricate red designs. The cut of the dress was very flattering. Applejack wasn’t the curviest mare, but her perorations were perfect for her size. She was slender and athletic.She also seemed taller, but the clicking sound they heard as she moved her hooves revealed that she was wearing high heels.
What was most surprising, however, was that she was wearing make-up. It looked to be expertly applied, so she probably didn’t do it, or at least Spitfire couldn’t imagine that she did. Her eyes were sensually green and her lips were a deep red. Her cheeks also had more color to them.
“Wow,” Soarin said, a little surprised. “She cleans up good.” He finished approvingly.
“What do you mean cleans up?” Spitfire never took her eyes off the television. “She looked good before.”
“Ehh,” Soarin shrugged. “I wasn’t feeling the whole butch vibe she had.”
“Just because she is a strong mare who dresses practically doesn’t make her butch!” Spitfire defended.
“Whatever,” Soarin shrugged, “One of you has to be the guy.” Spitfire shook her head dismissively.
“uhhh...Uhhh,” Thorn Spark was dumbstruck by the mare before him.
“Let’s go,” Applejack began to walk down the hall. “The sooner we get started, the sooner we’ll be finished.” Thorn snapped out of his daze and followed behind her. Applejack continued to walk confidently forward, unaware that both Soarin and Spitfire’s eyes were affixed firmly to her rear.
“Hmm,” Thorn finally broke his eyes away and began to look around. There was nobody in sight.
“What?” Applejack asked, not looking back.
“I just expected there to be lots of other ponies watching us.” Thorn answered.
“Don’t worry about that, I had Twilight and the rest of the gang ward away and ponies too curious for their own good.” Applejack chuckled.
The two of them wasted no time reaching one of the finest restaurants in Ponyville. A reservation had already been made, so they were seated immediately. The interior was decorated to amplify the atmosphere. The lighting was low, with the only light coming from lanterns hanging from the ceiling. The entire restaurant was decorated with expensive artifacts and pieces of art.
“What will you be having this evening, ma’am?” The waiter came up to them almost as soon as they were seated.
“Apple fritters and water.” Applejack replied after a brief glance over the menu.
“I’ll have...uhhh.” Thorn Spark hesitated. “Cupcakes and water.” They both handed the waiter their menus. They sat in silence until their food was delivered.
“Tell me colt ,” That was what Thorn Spark was to Applejack. “What possessed you to spend so many bits on an evening with me?” Applejack asked after she took a bit from her food.
“Well…” Thorn Spark searched his brain for his rehearsed answer. “You and your group of friends do many noble things for Ponyville, so I just thought you gals needed the money, and I thought you might enjoy my company over some of the other stallions.”
“How very altruistic.” Applejack replied, half questioning, half sarcastic.
“But it’s not just that,” Thorn Spark continued. “You’re a fascinating pony, and I hoped that I might get to know a little more about you.”
Tell him to move his head.” Spitfire demanded of Soarin. Whether it was deliberately or accidently, the camera lens was centered right on Applejack’s stomach as they ate. “Tell him to move his head!” She shouted.
“I can’t.” Soarin held up his hooves defensively. “We can’t communicate with him.”
“Why not?” Spitfire demanded.
“This is why!” Soarin replied. “You’d be screaming at him the whole time not to look at her!”
“Alright, I hear shouting.” Fleetfoot threw open the door to her spare room. “What’s going on here?”
“Spy camera theater,” Soarin answered casually. “Care to join us?” Fleetfoot shrugged and walked over.
“So, what am I watching, exactly?” Fleetfoot asked.
“You see,” Soarin took the liberty of explaining the situation. “Spitfire here is crushing on our friend Applejack, so rather than actually talking to her like a well adjusted pony would, she’s using that colt you saw earlier as a mole to pump her for information.”
“Holy hell, Spitfire!” Fleetfoot exclaimed, turning to Spitfire. “Could you have possibly thought of a more elaborate plan to get into Applejack’s pants?”
“I could have asked him to come up with one.” Spitfire pointed to Soarin.
“It’s true,” Soarin agreed. “My plan would have involved a net gun and some kind of flying machine.”
“I would like to know more about you, first.” Applejack replied. “You’re barely older than my little sister, what the hay made you want this?”
“Well,” Thorn Spark spooned at his cupcake. “My dad was a farmer, and my grandfather, so on. Farming is in my blood.” Thorn Spark said proudly.
“Where did a colt from a family of farmers get so much money?” Applejack asked.
“Uhhh….” Thorn Spark remembered his cover story. “Before I went into farming, I was saving up to start my own business.”
“And so you spent your life savings on a date with me?” Applejack was shocked.
“It was for a good cause.” Thorn shrugged. Applejack smirked approvingly. The colt had a good attitude, at least.
The rest of dinner was uneventful, spent mostly in silence as Thorn Spark tried in vain to work up the courage to ask a mare much older than him with the questions he had been charged with. THey paid their bill and left the restaurant.
“What do you want to do now?” Applejack turned to Thorn Spark. She was already a bit taller than him to began with. In her high heels, she absolutely towered over him.
“There’s a garden around here,” Thorn Spark pointed, “We could just walk around there for a while.”
“That sounds tolerable.” Applejack started in the direction Thorn Spark pointed. They arrived in a few minutes to a public park area, with groves of flowers, shade trees, and gazebos. There was a stone path around the area that leaded visitors along the most seeing route.
“You said you wanted to know more about me,” Applejack spoke after some time, “Ask away.”
“Uhhh,” Thorn Spark stammered. “As you could tell from the auction, there are plenty of stallions who would kill to be with you, if only for one night, yet no one has ever seen you spend time with any stallion besides Big Mac, and that’s because you two work together. Applejack knew her words would be enough to bind him to secrecy, so she felt comfortable answering the question. “I have no interest in stallions.”
“What…!” Thorn Spark half gasped.
“Stallions have brought me nothing but trouble. They constantly meddle in your affairs because they think you are too stupid to handle them yourself. They constantly try to defend you, even though I’ve proven time and again that I don’t need it. THey’re arrogant, crude, obnoxious…” Applejack trailed off. “Besides, mares know what mares want.” She ended with a smirk and the faintest hint of coyness.
Whew!” Spitfire sighed. “So it’s confirmed, she’s a lesbian.”
“You mean you went to all this trouble and you didn’t even know she was a rug muncher?” Fleetfoot asked in disbelief.
“How could I?” Spitfire asked.
“How could you not?” Soarin responded, look at the company she keeps around her.
“Well, I’m not a genius like some ponies.” Spitfire crossed her arms defensively.
“You’re a smart mare, but sometimes you can’t see the forest through the trees.” Soarin replied.
“Hey, wait a second.” Fleetfoot spoke up. “I remember you telling me about banging stallions before. Since when were you a clam-jouster?”
“It’s not just about sex.” Sex was not the center of Spitfire’s life. She didn’t actively abstain from it, nor did she seek it. Most of the urges she had she couldn’t handle herself. “And looking back, the only time I got anything out of my few times was when I was in complete control, and then it was less like sex and more like using the world’s most incontinent dildo.
“So you’ve had a few duds,” Fleetfoot shrugged. “That’s no reason to jumps ship.”
“It’s really not about sex.” Spitfire replied. “I genuinely like Applejack, the fact that I find her physically attractive is just a bonus.”
“Suit yourself.” Fleetfoot shrugged. “That just means more for me.”
Applejack and Thorn Spark arrived back at Sweet Apple Acres. Again there was no crowd there to greet them as Thorn Spark expected.
“You surprised me, boy.” Applejack turned to Thorn Spark. “Tonight turned out to not be nearly as excruciating as I expect it.”
“Uhh...thanks?” Thorn Spark didn’t know whether that was a compliment or not.
“There’s one last thing that needs to be taken care of,” Applejack took a few steps closer to Thorn Spark. He could smell her perfume.
“I can’t watch this.” Spitfire curled up into a ball in her chair. Had she watched, she would have seen that the brief kiss was delivered on the cheek with perfunctory obligation. THey said their goodnights and the date was over.
“I think that’s all we need.” Soarin leaned forward and pressed the “stop” button on the recorders. “Would you like a transcript?” He asked sarcastically, holding up the tapes.
“No,” Spitfire rose and grabbed the tapes. “I’ll take these now and get to work.” Before Soarin could protest, Spitfire vanished.
“She does realize that she’s way over thinking this situation, doesn’t she?” Fleetfoot looked to Soarin.
“No, I don’t think so.” Soarin answered
“well, that was fun while it lasted.” Fleetfoot stood up. “I’m going to practice some new moves, care to join me?”
“Of course I do!” Soarin sprung up and followed Fleetfoot to the field outside.
Applejack was back to her usual business, looking at the trees, determining which ones were ready were ripe for harvesting. It had been a week since the date and the commotion seemed to have died down. The only repercussions was that the mane six inbox was inedited with questions wanting to know when and who the next auction was. Applejack looked up at the sound of a pegasus flying by.
Its probably Rainbow Dash, Applejack thought to herself as she moved her hat just a little to the side.
“She was surprised to see a yellow maned pegasus in a blue jacket hovering above her. “S...Spit...Spitfire?”
“Hey Applejack,” Spitfire greeted, trying her best to sound casual.
“How can I...what are you…?” Applejack stammered.
“So tense,” Spitfire laughed. “Speaking of, when’s the next time you have off?”
“I don’t know.” Applejack answered. “I don’t schedule time off. Why are y…?”
“Well, there’s this new apple fritter joint that opened up near Ponyville and I was wondering if you wanted to try it out with me?” Spitfire asked with the faintest hint of a blush. She had spent the last week analyzing the tapes, looking for her best chances of wooing Applejack.
“S..sure!” Applejack answered eagerly. How could she say no to anything a Wonderbolt requested, especially when it involved spending time with her? I’ll let you know as soon as possible when I’ll be able to!”
“Great.” Spitfire smiled in relief. “I’ll see you then.” She left Applejack to her work.
The last thing Applejack could have thought of at that moment was work. “That’s strange,” Applejack thought after the news had time to sink in. “How did she know I liked apple fritters…”
