Sweet Apple Winter: An Apple Jack and Soarin story

It had taken some time, patience, and plenty of profane, vulgarity laden threats and pep talks, but Soarin was finally getting his students up to snuff with his standards. He was discouraged at first as they were seniors and didn't even know basic drill commands, but by the time the first day at the academy was over, the Master Sergeant had his soldiers singing old Air Corps cadences while flying in a tightly-formed and well-synchronized flying V as they traveled back to the academy from their flying route.

Dinkleberg, Dinkleberg, the bane of my life

He burned my house down, then he fucked my wife

I dragged him out his home to shoot him dead

He looked up at me and this is what he said

Howdy there, neighbor, you're a sight to see

So nice you'd stop by to kill me

Your gun seems empty, but hey, that's fine.

I've got my gun on me, you can borrow mine.

I took his gun and I aimed for the head

Pulled that trigger and that bastard was dead

I got no one to blame, and I hated that the most

So he came back just so I could blame his ghost

Oh, Dinkleberg. Dinkleberg.

Fuck that guy. Fuck that guy

In his ear. In his ear.

In his eye. In his eye.

"Alright, ladies," Soarin said. "This concludes another episode of sing along with Soarin. We're over the academy grounds now. company halt!"

Soarin, who was at the directing point of the flying V stopped instantly while the others flew passed him until the last two members were lined symmetrical with his position. They then stopped, then neatly broke the V at the two opposite ends and neatly formed a hovering formation line before they all descended to the ground and landed soundlessly to await further instructions.

"Good form," Soarin critiqued with a nod. "I have to admit that I had my doubts about you all this morning, but you have all learned quickly and efficiently the proper military etiquette you will need to become Wonderbolts, but don't pat yourselves on the back just yet. This is only the tip of the iceberg. Tomorrow we are going to start the real training. Make sure to consume plenty of carbs for breakfast - you'll need every ounce of energy for what I have planned for you. You will all meet back for formation at 0900 hours. Tardiness will not be tolerated, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir!" His company replied resoundingly.

Soarin clicked his front hooves together and stood strait at attention. "Salute!"

With one sharp and synchronized motion, everyone in the line brought their hooves up near the edges of their eye brows.

Soarin nodded approvingly before returning their salute. "Dismissed!"

The cadets all sighed and relaxed their postures before numerous indistinct conversations broke out among them. A few of them made their way to the dorms while some of them went about with their business with other activities or plans they had for the remainder of the afternoon. Whatever they did after academy hours was none of the Master Sergeant's business. As long as they were all in their dorms before curfew he could care less.

Soarin performed a quick, one hundred and eighty degree turn on his hooves and made his way toward the exit of the academy grounds. His acerbic drill instructor persona slowly dimmed out like a dwindling flame as he was now able to relax and let his mind wander about more pleasant things. The mental image of that attractive mare holding that steaming hot pie out to him was all he needed to reinvigorate himself. His brisk trot accelerated to a rapid gallop until he had made his way to the edge of one of Cloudsdale's dropping points. He kicked off the ground with his hind legs and dove head and hooves first from the cloudy platform while keeping his wings tucked in. Soarin closed his eyes, relaxed every muscle in his body, and enjoyed the therapeutic sensation of falling at terminal velocity with the soothing sound of the rushing wind all around him. Any lingering stress he felt from his day was suddenly released with a deep, relaxing zen-like breath as the icy air whipped his mane and tail.

The plummeting stallion opened his eyes upon breaching the sprawling layer of overcast beneath the city, and he could now see the fading, orange glow of the sun dipping below the mountainous terrain in the distance. He looked to the ground below him and saw the spherical blurs from candle-lit street lamps, which traced brilliant red and amber-colored flickering dots throughout the roads of the charming little hamlet.

This little town, Soarin thought, has a charm to it that you just don't see in the large neon-lit metropolitans that housed the stadiums and arenas he had performed in. "I'm beginning to see why some would prefer small town-living over the hustle and bustle of those overpopulated concrete jungles," Soarin soliloquized as he appreciated the serene atmosphere. He spread his wings and slowed his rapid descent toward the expanding town until he landed softly and soundlessly in the center of a dirt road. As he looked around for someone to ask directions from, a familiar electronic noise captured his attention. He turned and noticed a structure near him that was lined on the outside with arcade cabinets, one of which seemed to be in use by a child sitting on a stool. He quickly recognized the game the young colt was playing by it's sound. It was a game that he was a frequent patron of when he himself was a colt.

"I'm impressed," said Soarin to the boy as he approached him. "Most of the young ones don't bother with these old games. They always seem to have their muzzles buried in the shooters with those fancy 'realistic' graphics."

"Not really a big fan of shooters," the colt responded in a nasally voice without taking his eyes from the screen. "I like the new games, but these old games are better. They're difficult to master; you actually feel like you've accomplished something upon beating them. Plus, I think eight bit music is catchy - it helps me focus."

"Is that right?" Soarin asked as he studied the child's game play style, quickly taking notice of the boy's quick and fluid platforming skills. "Mega Mare two, huh? You know, this was my favorite game when I was around your age. I hope you acquired the bubblegun on Aquamare's stage."

"The bubblegun?" The colt scoffed. "That's the most useless weapon in the game."

"You won't be thinking that in a minute. You're on the last stage, right?"

The kid continued on with the conversation between his frustrated grunts, the furious mashing of buttons, and the up beat eight bit music. "Yeah, I think. I have never beaten it, so I can't really be sure. I always end up making my way to this stage, but that freaking alien at the end always kills me. My mom says she beat this game blindfolded when she was my age, but I'm starting to think that's a lie. This game is next to impossible. I actually had an easier time on my first play through of Changeling's Souls."

"He can't be beaten without the bubblgun," Soarin insisted.

"Mister, quit trolling me," replied the skeptical colt.

"What does that even mean? I'm not 'trolling' you. Just use the bubblegun on him and you'll see."

"I'm not about to take advice from some middle-aged guy I don't even know. I'm on my last bit here, and if I have to go another night with my mom gloating over me that she's beaten this game blind folded I seriously don't know what I'll do. Now go away and let me focus."

"Middle-aged? Ouch..." Soarin grimaced at that comment. "Kid, I'm a young, spry twenty something, okay? I'm not middle-aged. And your mom sounds strange."

"Whatever!" The colt waved his hoof dismissively. "Look, I'm on the last guy and I need to focus. Did you need something?"

"I just want to know where stirrup street is. And hurry it up, I'm losing daylight."

"Stirrup Street? Just follow the dirt road behind us going east and it will be the second road on you left. If you turn right it turns into Rein Road."

"Head east, then turn left on the second road," Soarin confirmed. "Got it. Thanks, kid." The adolescent didn't respond. He only bit down on his lower lip and narrowed his eyes in concentration while the glow from the arcade screen lit his facial features as if it were a hypnotizing light. The focus in his amber-colored eyes intensified as there seemed to be nothing else that existed in his world but him and the game. As ornery and stubborn as this child was, Soarin decided that he liked him. He smiled and fished a bit out of his coat pocket, then set it down on the edge of the cabinet's screen.

"Kid, I know you don't know me, and you probably think I'm just some square 'middle-aged' stallion, but trust me, use the bubblegun on the alien. If you get killed in doing so, the next continue is on me." The colt once again made no response. It was as if the game had completely entranced him.

Soarin shrugged, turned, and made his way down the road toward the East, passing the first road and turned left on the second. His stroll had finally lead him to a vacant wooden stand, behind which stood barrels of fresh apples and a glass case stocked with piping hot baked goods. He looked around and was surprised to find that the stand was completely unattended.

"Surely, that girl has more common sense than to just leave all of this unattended..."  Soarin noticed a coffee can at the edge of the counter. He tipped it and noticed that it had a substantial amount of money inside. "Who just leaves their business's revenue out on display like this?"

"Gotcha!" A triumphant voice from behind the stand suddenly yelled.

Soarin jumped back in surprise when two young fillies, a tawny-colored pegusis, and an ivory unicorn jumped onto opposite edges of the counter top then leaped down to the ground to flank him. He looked back and noticed another filly directly behind him. This one was a little red-headed earth pony.

"You look mighty surprised, mister," The earth pony said.

"Yeah," the unicorn added. "You almost look scared."

"You've been caught in the act," chuckled the pegusis.

Soarin cocked an eyebrow. "Uh... And I would have gotten away with it if it weren't for you... meddling fillies?"

"You're darn right, we did!" The three fillies exclaimed in unison.

"Hand over all the bits you took from mah sister's tin!" Demanded the redhead with an accusing hoof pointed at the stallion. "Or

we're gonna hand you over to the authorities right after we kick yer butt! Sweetie Belle, get the tape recorder."

"It's already on," the unicorn responded.

"Your sister?" Soarin asked. "Is Applejack your sister?"

"We're asking the questions!" The pegusis barked. "We want a recorded confession, apology, and oath that you will never steal

again, but you will hand over the stolen money first. Speak clearly so the recorder can hear you!"

Soarin looked back and noted the small recording device on the counter. "What are you three suppose to be?"

"We are the cutie mark private investigators!" Said the ivory unicorn.

"We're investigating a string of mysterious thefts, if you must know." The red-headed filly put in. "Mah sister's tin has been coming up light almost every day for the passed few weeks. We think some sticky-hooved thief is snatching money from the tin while her back is turned with customers. And since we saw you messin' around with her money, that makes you the prime suspect."

"Did you say 'cutie mark private investigators'?" Soarin asked. "None of you seem to even have your cutie marks yet."

"That's all about to change," The unicorn replied. "Once we get you to confess we'll be professional private investigators. I guess it was only a matter of time before you'd be caught."

"I didn't come here to steal anything, I just wanted to see Applejack and get my pie she made for me."

"Oh, why didn't you say so?" Asked the red head. "Girls, he ain't the thief. Mah sister told me he was comin'."

"But that was our best ambush yet!" The ivory unicorn groaned as she kicked the dirt.

"Ah know, Ah know, we'll get the thief next time, girls." The red head stated as she made her way behind the counter. She returned to Soarin with a metal box. "Mah name is Apple Bloom, by the way. Over there is Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo."

"Nice to meet you," Soarin said. "Is my pie in this box?"

Apple Bloom nodded. "Mah sister told me to give it to you, just in case you get here before she gets back. She's keeping it in this oven box to keep it fresh for ya."

The filly unlatched the clasp from the box with a sharp metallic click and lifted the lid. Tendrils of steam lazily wafted from the pastry within the container's confines and Soarin was instantly captivated by its sweet aroma. Something about this pie seemed different to him: There were several unidentifiable flavors intermingled with the cinnamon and the apple that enhanced its scent. The hungry stallion began to salivate as he attempted to restrain himself.

"Wow," Apple Bloom said, "This ain't just any apple pie: This is mah sister's award-winning sweet and spicy apple butter scotch pecan pie." The red-headed filly placed her face in the path of the steam and took in a generous whiff of the sweet pastry. "Mmmm-mmm. She ain't made one of these in a long time. She must have went through a lot of trouble to obtain all the ingredients to make this. Ah think ah even detect a hint of vanilla in the crust; she really went all out for you, mister!"

"H-how much?" Soarin stammered while his body went into tremors, his pie lust further intensified by Apple Bloom's tantalizing description.

"She told me not to charge ya," Apple Bloom informed. "Go ahead and dig in. Ah think we got a few plastic forks and knives in the stand if ya don't want to wait until you get home to—"

Soarin didn't wait for her to finish her sentence. As soon as he heard all he needed to hear, he dove headfirst in the metal box and began his ravenous assault. Flecks of apple pie gore spattered and smeared the insides of the of the container as he tore the flaky flesh away from its top with one bite. The three fillies watched him in a combination of amazement and horror.

"Look at him go..." Sweetie Belle said.

"Poor thing never stood a chance..." Scootaloo added.

Soarin could hear them, but he paid them no mind. He continued to work his taste buds around the bits of apple, savoring the sweet butter scotch flavor within the hot, gooey filling as the ground pecans seemed to add a crunchy and pleasurable texture to the pie's innards that the stallion found greatly to his liking. He stopped, lifted his head from the box, and pulled in a deep breath before exhaling a pluming dioxide and steam-addled breath into the cold air before slamming himself headfirst back into the iron container to finish what was left of the pastry.

"I feel like we're watching something we really shouldn't be watching," commented a thoroughly disturbed Sweetie Belle.

Scootaloo's eyelid twitched. "Rainbow Dash once described to me the feeling one gets when they see something that cannot be unseen. This is one of those things."

Apple Bloom turned her horrified little eyes from the scene and faced her fellow crusaders with a traumatized pout in her face. "Hey, girls, do y'all remember that movie we saw where the mare was tied down to the table and the zombies came and—"

"We remember!" Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo both exclaimed as they huddled together.

Soarin lifted his pie-smeared faced from the box, and with his craving sated, he fell over on the ground and enjoyed the state of euphoria he was now in. Everything around him seemed more vivid, more lively than before. Colors were brighter, and he could swear that he could see sounds and hear sights. "That girl is absolutely beautiful. If I could use some kind of culmination of magic and science to take the amazing taste of that pie and transfer it into an image of something that equally stimulates the eyes as it did the tongue, the image would be that of your sister. That emerald-eyed minx! That golden-haired goddess!"

Sweetie Belle was the first to speak in concern for the stallion's queer behavior. "Mister, are you feeling—"

"SSSHHHHH!" Soarin cut her off with sharp shush with his hoof placed over his mouth. "Piiiieeeeee!" He whispered.

The ivory filly cocked her head sideways with a perplexed look about her. "Okay, then?"

The pie-intoxicated stallion relaxed until his irises shrank back to their normal size, and the world slowly but surely reverted back into its normal, boring and drab self. "Damn good pie," he whispered before jumping back up to his hooves. "I really wish Applejack could have been here to give it to me. Where is she right now, and when is she coming back?"

"She's had to pick up a cousin of ours from Appaloosa at the train station, and she placed me in charge of the stand until she gets back." The red head stroked her chin with a pensive hoof. "The way you was talkin' about mah sister makes it sound like ya like her."

Soarin gave her an absent-minded nod. "I do. Why do you think I want to see her?"

"Oh, so does that mean yer gonna ask her out?" Apple Bloom asked.

"Probably not. I think she's cute, and she's fun to be around, but I have a demanding job which requires me to travel a lot. All I can really do is make the most of my time while I'm here and see her whenever my schedule allows me the opportunity."

"Are you gonna at least tell her ya like her?" The filly persisted.

Soarin had to think about that one for a moment. "Probably not. What would be the point? By the time Winter has passed, I'll be back on the road and I'd have to leave her behind."

"But that sounds so sad and lonely!" Sweetie Belle lamented sympathetically. "What is it you do for a living that keeps you from having a home?"

"I'm a Wonderbolt." Soarin blurted before clapping a hoof over his mouth.

"A Wonderbolt?!" The crusaders cried in unison.

What the fuck did I just do?! Feeling like an asshole, Soarin face-hooved with a fury that nearly knocked himself unconscious. He looked up and noticed the little orange pegusus approaching him. All he could do was back away from her while pleading with her to keep her voice down. "Hey kid, keep it down. Look, I lied, alright? It was a joke. Just a stupid joke."

"I don't think so." Scootaloo approached him with a knowing grin on her face. "I thought you looked familiar. I was thinking it for a while, but now I'm sure of it! Even without your flight suit your figure tends to stand out from the others, and the metro way you style your mane, and that psychedelic state of ecstasy you fall into after eating a pie... You're Soarin, aren't you? Rainbow Dash has, like, a billion pictures of you all over her room. Pictures of you in and out of your flight suit, so I know what you look like without it. She has even saved every sports and military related magazine you've been on the cover of or were talked about in. I cant believe it's actually you!"

"My hair is metro?"

"So he really IS a Wonderbolt, then?" Apple Bloom asked with wide, amazed eyes that constantly shifted back and forth from Soarin to Scootaloo.

"Definitely!" Scootaloo looked back and confirmed with a confident nod. "Rainbow Dash was all crazy with excitement before she left for the academy in Cloudsdale this morning. She said that there had been some rumors circulating that Soarin would be the senior instructor, and here you are. Crusaders, do you all know what this means?"

"What?" Apple Bloom asked.

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo both rushed to their flummoxed friend and yelled, "Soarin of the Wonderbolts has a crush on your sister!"

"Ladies, please keep your voices down!" The flustered Wonderbolt pleaded while he desperately thought of a way to liberate himself from the situation in which he now found himself. He tried to think of a lie that would be convincing enough, but he was a terrible liar, and nothing was coming to mind. He thought of maybe taking to the sky and never returning to Ponyville, but he might never see Applejack again. Soarin continued to mull over his evacuation plan while the three fillies excitedly conversed with each other over the possibility of him being a possible candidate for Apple Bloom's brother in law when a familiar voice made him jump.

"Who's got a crush on me, now?"

Soarin's head whipped around, and standing before him was that golden goddess of his. "Hey, soldierboy!" She said with an enthusiastic and energetic smile. "Ah was afraid Ah was gonna miss ya today. Ah see ya liked mah pie." She said with a big smile while pointing to Soarin's pie-smeared face.

Oh Celestia, fuck me...

"You alright, sugarcube? Yer lookin' like yer seein' ghost riders in the sky..."

"Y-yeah, I'm fine..." All was silent for a brief moment. Soarin weighed his options at that point. He knew the three loud-mouthed fillies were going to blow his cover. He knew they would most likely feel it necessary to tell the whole town about him. He once again tried to come up with a lie to counter whatever they might say, but he had nothing.

looks like retreating like a coward is my only course of action.

Before he spread his wings he stopped to look mournfully upon his goddess one more time to thank her for the pie, but she caught him off his guard when he turned and saw her standing so close to him that he could practically feel her breath. She reached out and wiped some of the residual pie filling from the stallions face, and ever so delicately lapped it up with her tongue.

The provocative and stimulating image was all too much for the Wonderbolt to bare. His wings shot out erect from his sides like switch blades and remained stiff as petrified wood, paralyzing them and temporarily disabling him from taking flight.

Stupid sexy Applejack!

"Sis!" Applebloom yelled. "Yer never gonna believe—mmfff"

Soarin, with no idea of what to do, seized the little filly and placed his hoof over her mouth to silence her. The subdued filly fidgeted and managed to pull her mouth away from Soarin's hoof. "What's wrong with you, Soarin?" She said in a hushed tone. "Don't ya like mah sister? Just tell her ya like her. It'd be the coolest thing in the world to have a Wonderbolt as a brother in law!"

"Kid, it's not as easy as all that," Soarin answered.

"What are ya doin' to mah sister?" Applejack interjected.

"Nothing!" Soarin insisted. "I just uh—"

"That girl is absolutely beautiful. If I could use some kind of culmination of magic and science to take the amazing taste of that pie and transfer it into an image that equally stimulates the eyes as it did the tongue, the image would be that of your sister. That emerald-eyed minx! That golden-haired goddess! Damn good pie. I really wish Applejack could have been here to give it to me. Where is she right now, and when is she coming back?"

Soarin and Applejack stared so silently at one another that each could swear they could hear the other's heart beating.

"Nice one, Sweetie Belle!" Apple Bloom cheered before liberating herself from the befuddled stallion's grip and scurrying to meet her friends near the stand.

When the shocked stallion looked at them, he noticed Sweetie Belle holding in her hooves the tape recorder she intended to use to record their impromptu interrogation in regards to Applejack's stolen money. "How's that for a confession?" She said with an insufferable giggle before Apple Bloom and Scootaloo hoof bumped each other.

With a dry throat the Wonderbolt turned his head to the blonde mare in front of him.

"Th-that tape... It was doctored, right?" She asked in a quivering voice.

"Nope," answered Apple Bloom, grabbing Soarin and Applejack's attention. "He said that not five minutes ago, sis. He likes ya. Guess y'all better hurry it up and get to makin' a little niece or nephew for me to play with."

"Applebloom!" The blonde mare cried out in a mortified tone before pulling the brim of her hat down over her glowing red face.

Soarin shifted his glance back to Applejack, who kept her face hidden away from him. He turned his head to the three little spectators as their eyes beamed wide with anticipation.

You... Little... Shits...