The Middle Distance

by Midnight herald

Rating: teen
Tags: Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Fluttershy
Length: 12874

Even though she sees Fluttershy almost every day, Applejack is lonely. Something needs to change.

Sometimes, ponies get busy. Sometimes, sorry isn't enough. Sometimes, good things start to fall apart and nothing can fix them. Even though she's been dating Fluttershy for a while now, Applejack is lonely. Something needs to change.

My submission to the AppleShy Contest.
Edited, Pre-read, and brainstorm'd by the inestimable Lion.

Published 2013-12-18 19:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-12-19 09:46:58 UTC

Chapter 1

Applejack stacked the last plates on the table and tried to pick them up when a yellow wing blocked her mouth firmly. She jerked back to see Fluttershy chiding her with a gentle smirk.

“I can take those, Applejack,” she said, gracefully sweeping the stoneware onto her back with the same wing. Applejack smiled in thanks and snagged the pitcher of apple juice before somepony else could, following Fluttershy into the kitchen closely. Fluttershy failed to stifle another yawn as she slid the dishes into the sink - she’d been doing that all through dinner. Applejack offloaded her jug and nuzzled at the base of Fluttershy’s neck softly.

“Ya sure you don’t wanna stay here tonight?” Applejack murmured, leading Fluttershy to the sitting room. Fluttershy blinked blearily and shook her head, yawning again. “Sugarcube, you’re exhausted.” Fluttershy shrugged.

“Belinda needs me right now,” she said, as if that explained everything. Maybe it did.

“Belinda … she’s that badger, right?” Fluttershy nodded. “Right. Prolly needs her antibiotics and whatnot, huh?”

“And her painkillers,” Fluttershy added, shifting slightly. “Her bone didn’t quite set right the first time and I didn’t notice until it had started healing…” Her wings rustled softly in the empty silence between them. Her bloodshot eyes flicked momentarily to the clock, to the window before jumping guiltily back to Applejack.

Applejack smiled softly. “So you should probably head out, then?” she suggested. Even after all this time, Fluttershy felt uncomfortable asking to leave. Or really, asking for anything. The relief that shone from her soft blue eyes did wonders to wash away any petty irritations Applejack might’ve felt, and the soft kiss ‘Shy landed on her cheek certainly didn’t hurt. Another one of those damn yawns crawled out of Fluttershy’s throat and Applejack felt an old worry stirring in her chest.

It wasn’t a long walk to Fluttershy’s place, by any means, but … in this weather? When she’s this tired? Not that it was freezing quite yet, but still … “Fluttershy, you want me to walk you home?” Applejack offered by the front door. Fluttershy tensed a little.

“I’ll be fine, Applejack,” she answered smoothly, “but thanks for offering.”

“An’ you don’t need a scarf or a hat or anything?”

“I said I’ll be fine, Applejack,” Fluttershy said, her wings flaring minutely. Applejack flinched back, stung.

“Sorry, sorry,” she muttered, glaring at the floor. “It was just a question…”

A beat of awkward silence landed heavy between them, until Fluttershy laid a feather-light hoof on Applejack’s shoulders. She smiled gently as Applejack looked up. “Goodnight, Applejack,” she whispered, pulling AJ in for a quick smooch. None of her previous … anger? frustration? showed on her face, and the tiny little knot in Applejack’s throat melted away. Fluttershy closed the door behind her to keep the autumn air outside. Applejack stared through the window at Fluttershy’s receding figure until the darkness and the swell of a hill swallowed her up.

“Goodnight,” she whisper-called to the door. Then she trotted into the kitchen to help clean up from dinner. No use lollygagging when there’s dishes in the sink.

The kitchen was clean beyond a doubt. Applejack had scrubbed the floors and stacked the dishes and shaken the curtains and brushed the cobwebs from the high corners of the ceiling. She’d been planning on washing down the walls themselves when Mac and Granny had stepped in and stopped her. So instead she’d gone upstairs like she always did, to tuck ‘Bloom in right and proper. She’d done it nearly every night since she’d gotten back from Manehattan, and she wasn’t ready to stop yet. Only now, apparently, Apple Bloom had gotten “too old for bedtime stories,” whatever that meant. As if there were such a thing. Applejack sighed and rolled over again, twisting herself up in sheets and blankets as she waited for sleep to come.

It was funny, how quickly she’d gotten used to somepony sleeping beside her. Her bed used to be just large enough, so she could spread out her tired legs after a long days’ work and not worry about waking up halfway through the night on the floor. But now, her eyes were drawn to the space left over, her tired imagination stretching it out to ridiculous lengths, until she shivered and curled in on herself at the shore of an ocean of rumpled bedsheets. Her ears pricked and swiveled and caught the ticking of the grandfather clock outside her room. She lay for countless, monotonous seconds before finally giving up the idea of sleep and wriggling from her warm cocoon of wool and flannel.

The old house had the bite of winter to it as Applejack crept through the hallway, her fur prickling against drafts. She peeked into Apple Bloom’s room and heard her little sister’s light breathing. As she turned to go, Winona trotted out to meet her. She nuzzled her dog gratefully and smiled when she got a long, wet kiss in return. After listening to Granny’s half-muttered nonsenses and Mac’s rumbling snores, the buzzing in Applejack’s head died down, more or less. But the fidget in her hooves and the tightness in her lungs stayed on, so she headed to the larder for a guilty pleasure. It wasn’t often that Applejack drank, less so since she and ‘Shy had thrown in together, but a couple nips of brandy here and then wasn’t hurting anypony, really. A couple mouthfuls would help her sleep tonight, the better to work in the morning. Applejack nosed around until she found her wide glass flask and carried it to the table.

One shot was enough to take the edge off her fluttering worries. The second brought a sudden clarity to the room around her, and a familiar, twitching need to move her hooves and do something. Her eyes wandered around the pristine living room, the glowing kitchen, the expertly-banked fireplace, the neatly coiled ropes, before landing on her flask one more time. She tilted the bottle just enough to fill the glass, then tossed it back in one smooth swallow, shuddering at the bitter warmth that ran down her spine. She settled back from the table and breathed deeply, slowly, waiting for her tired body to push her brain into submission.

The farmhouse had never felt so old, so huge. Applejack shivered and topped off her glass, eyeing the shadows as she tossed back her whiskey. The floor settled with a long, wooden groan, and Applejack jumped, snorting. It was all in her head, it was all just an old house being an old house and she was too tired to be up but she was just so lonely. Another feeling had started up near her heart, a horrible aching emptiness. She set aside the shot glass and grasped the bottle in her hooves, forcing burning, acrid mouthfuls down her tingling throat. Anything to fill the hole in her chest.

As the last drop of whiskey hit her tongue, the world made a bit more sense. Applejack was lonely. Why? Because she hadn’t spent any real time around Fluttershy for … a month or so. Was she sore about it? Of course. What did they do when they were sore about each other? They talked. Probably why they’d gotten on so well, really. Applejack clambered to her hooves and set about the process of walking across the floor, mindful of where her hooves landed. Wouldn’t do to set the house creaking while other ponies were asleep. She fumbled at the front door and staggered out onto the porch. Somepony had gone and messed with the stairs, too. She spat the worst of the dust out and wobbled her way to Fluttershy’s house. The stars were the clearest she’d seen in a while, even though the rest of the world was a little bit fuzzy. A wonderful, warm buzz ran through her veins, keeping the autumn chill at bay. She’d talk to Fluttershy before any more of this anger could build up. She’d fix this, just like she always did.

Applejack crept through the bushes as quietly as a stumbling, angry pony could possibly manage. Four ground squirrels ran out from her unsteady hooves, and one of ‘em … well, she’d spent enough time around Fluttershy to know it had a foul mouth. “Sorry,” she whispered. A lamp still shone out from ‘Shy’s living room. Applejack sighed in relief – waking ‘Shy up for this conversation could be nothing but a horrible idea.

The spare key was underneath the Rhododendron pot, same as ever. The cold copper tingled against her tongue as she unlocked the front door. She dropped the key on a side table as she crept towards the lamplight. She knocked on the side of the entryway softly and waited for Fluttershy to ask her in. Nothing. She knocked again, in case ‘Shy had been distracted. Instead of any answer, Angel Bunny hopped to where she swayed and furiously shushed her. Applejack blinked heavily and pushed past the rabbit to see what was going on.

Fluttershy lay in a sprawl across her green carpet, trembling in her sleep. Two feet from her, the badger cub … Belinda, swaddled and snoring, rolled over peacefully. All the confusion and petty anger wound up in Applejack’s chest fell apart. She tip-hooved over to Fluttershy’s side and eased the sleeping Pegasus onto her back. Fluttershy mumbled slightly as Applejack began moving, carrying her upstairs with the smoothest strides she could manage.

Applejack turned back Fluttershy’s covers, rolled her in, and smoothed them over her. She smiled softly as Fluttershy snuggled into her pillow with a sigh. Watching Fluttershy sleep, Applejack was stuck once again with how absolutely beautiful she was. Her long, flowing mane, near silver in the moonlight, had spread across the pillow in a cascade of silken hairs. Her long, slow breaths sent a meditative peace washing over Applejack, leaving her shoulders relaxed and her heart untroubled. She kissed Fluttershy’s forehead and settled back onto her haunches.

Cuckoo …. Cuckoo … cuckoo …. Cuckoo

Applejack jolted out of her trance and stared at Fluttershy’s clock, squinting to view the hands in the dim light. 4:00 am. And it’s my day to make breakfast… “Horseapples,” she whispered, clattering to a stand. She flew down the stairs and out the door, galloping unsteadily towards the Acres.

Chapter 2

There wasn’t enough coffee in Equestria to fight this hangover. Applejack cursed her lack of restraint as she flipped another pancake and fought down another wave of nausea. Bitter bile tickled the back of her throat and she breathed deeply until the churning in her stomach died down. Then she took another cautious swallow of water and yawned deeply.

“Mornin’, sis!” Applejack cringed as her sister’s cheerful voice stabbed through her cotton-stuffed head.

“Mornin’, Bloom,” she growled back, flipping the finished pancake onto a steaming stack and cringing at the rich smell. Four tiny hooves thundered across the worn floorboards. Apple Bloom nudged Applejack away from the hot range and looked her over carefully.

“Applejack, you were drinkin’ last night, werent’cha?” she accused, frowning.

Applejack nodded, wincing. “Had more’n I thought I would,” she mumbled around the spatula. Apple Bloom rolled her eyes and snatched the platter of pancakes from under her nose.

“Sis, Why don’cha set and rest awhile?” Apple Bloom asked on her way to the pitcher of apple juice. “I’ll take it from here.” Applejack drooped a little, but her sister’s voice brooked no argument. She slumped at the foot of the table, resting her head against the cool oak. Her eyes drifted closed and she drifted, half-asleep, until her family gathered round to eat.

Applejack had managed to keep down a tall glass of juice and a few bites of solid food before heading out to the fields. She tugged her trusty Stetson lower to protect her eyes from the rising sun and lined up for another kick. Her hooves connected with a hollow thunk, and the vibrations nearly sent her pitiful breakfast flying. She spread her hooves wide and waited for her food to decide which half of her esophagus it would choose. A yawn stretched her jaw wide as her stomach settled, and she moved on to the next tree. It wasn’t the worst week of Applebuck Season, but it never hurt to get ahead. Besides, she was no slouch, even when she was running on vapors. Her family needed her. Her family depended on her.

-THUNK-

Applejack’s eyes burned from tiredness. An incessant whine nagged at her ears, and her hips throbbed with tense, tired muscle.

-THUNK-

Sweat dripped down Applejack’s neck, steaming off her back with each move she made. Her eyes focused desperately on the middle distance. Her sticky tongue searched around her mouth for moisture.

-THUNK-

“Umm, Applejack?” Applejack paused and flicked her ears to show she was listening, slowing to a steady walk as she eyed the next tree in the row. “Did you stop by my house last night?” Applejack tensed and whirled, her back hooves flying.

-THUNK-

“Reckon I did,” she grunted, checking the branches for any clinging apples. It checked out clear, so she ambled towards the next tree, slow enough that ‘Shy would have no problems keeping up.

“Umm … Applejack?” Applejack tensed and whirled, her hooves striking true.

-THUNK-

This tree checked out, too. The next tree was overburdened, even after the pruning she and Mac’d done in early spring. She began repiling apples to free up another bucket for it.

“Applejack?” A nervous little edge had wandered into Fluttershy’s voice, the same one that came up during thunderstorms or after lonely days. Applejack couldn’t let it stay there.

“I’m listening, darlin’,” she soothed, before picking up a Gravenstein by its stem and setting it atop a neat pyramid. “Go on, say your piece.”

“Well, why were you there?” Applejack could pick out … honest curiosity? venom? anger? it was hard to tell exactly what Fluttershy meant by it. Applejack shivered and almost trotted to the next tree.

“I had a mind to talk with you, ‘Shy,” She said, looking over its trunk and finding the sweet spot. “But when I got there, you were asleep, so I moved ya to your bed.”

-THUNK-

“Look, Applejack,” Fluttershy began. She was angry, no doubt about that. Applejack could almost hear the frown in her voice, if the raised hairs on the back of her neck weren’t enough already. “While I appreciated the fact that I woke up somewhere that was not the floor, I would have liked you to wake me up, instead of moving me yourself.”

Applejack tensed and whirled. One of her hooves glanced off the trunk while the other flailed against thin air. She landed in a heap of hooves and dust and headache and slowly, deliberately clambered to her hooves. She turned to face her girlfriend, a frown setting into her muzzle as she saw Fluttershy’s defiantly flared wings.

“Darlin’,” she almost snarled, “Are you sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’?” Fluttershy glared even harder, her normally expressive eyes sharp, icy shards beneath her furrowed eyebrows. Applejack snorted. “‘Cause it sounds to me like I got myself worked up and worried ‘bout ya, walked over to your place around abouts three in the morning to make sure ya got home safe, found ya passed out by lil’ Belinda an’ shakin’ like an autumn leaf, made sure you got tucked in warm an’ safe, an’ you’re angry ‘cause I din’t spend the time or effort ta wake ya’ll up f’r you to climb th’ damn stairs YOURSELF?!”

Applejack’s voice echoed around the orchard. Fluttershy cringed before her, shielding her face with her hooves and emitting a shrill, incessant whine. Applejack knelt down before her, slowly. Fluttershy cringed back from her calming hoof, and Applejack wished she’d been socked in the gut instead. Swallowing thickly, she spoke to the spot of ground next to Fluttershy’s submissive form. “Look, I’m sorry I yelled at you. T’wasn’t right of me to do so. I dunno, lately I feel as though I don’t see you enough, and that’s got me on edge.” Applejack struggled to keep anything but a soothing calm out of her voice. “That, and I didn’t sleep none last night, so I’ve got a shorter fuse than I ought. Not that it’s any excuse to take it out on you, sugarcube. It’s jus’ how it is, today.”

No response from Fluttershy. Applejack eased herself upright and glanced over the trunk before her until she found the sweet spot. She tensed and whirled.

-THUNK-

Apples rained down into the buckets she’d laid out, and a tiny bit of the bitter guilt seizing up her chest melted away. On to the next.

-THUNK-

She’d worked up a healthy lather again, pouring all her extra anger into her legs. It was an easy rhythm again: Tense, Whirl

-THUNK-

Tense, Whirl

-THUNK-

Tense, Whirl … “Applejack?” She stopped short, to find Fluttershy standing nearby, radiating nothing but the deepest concern.

“Yes, sugarcube? What is it?” Her eyes had drifted down to the grass between Fluttershy’s hooves. That was easy to look at, right now.

“You didn’t sleep at all last night?”

Applejack half-smiled, before the shame ate it up. “Mighta caught a couple of winks before breakfast,” she admitted.

“You shouldn’t be working,” Fluttershy cried out, fluttering closer. “You should be sleeping right now.”

Applejack glared at Fluttershy’s shadow. “You’re one to talk, ‘Shy.”

‘Shy’s shadow drooped, slightly. Applejack winced and rubbed at her forehead. When she let it down again, Fluttershy stood not three feet from her. “That’s different, Applejack,” she said in a voice of folded steel. “My animals need me.”

Applejack’s head shot up, hurt. “What? and my family doesn’t need me, is that what you’re saying?” Fluttershy took a step back, shaking her head. “And you,” Applejack’s voice cracked and she fought off the prickling tears in her eyes with a vengeance. “I know your animals need you, B-but …” She blinked hard and looked desperately into Fluttershy’s eyes, “But don’t I need you too?”

Fluttershy stiffened slightly, and her wonderful eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry that I’m too busy working to make enough time for you to play hero,” she spat. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have mouths to feed.” Fluttershy turned and took off, soaring over the treetops toward her cabin. Applejack watched her go until the bright sunshine made her eyes water.

Through the veil of (sweat, must be sweat), Applejack could make out the blur of the next tree in the row. Biting her tongue, she galloped over to it.

Tense, Whirl

-THUNK-

Tense, Whirl

-THUNK-

She could feel a light lather coating her shoulders. Her muscles got back on-rhythm, until she could smoothly knock every apple out of every tree she ran across.

-THUNK-

Slowly, her mind calmed itself to a dull murmur, focusing on nothing but the now and the work to be done.
-THUNK-

Soon as she was done for the day, she’d work out what she’d done this time.

-THUNK-

She’d fix it, just like she always did.

-THUNK-

Chapter 3

Granny had put her hoof down after a moody, disheartening lunch - Applejack was sleeping, and that was that. And after the best 3 hours of sleep she’d ever gotten, Applejack finally felt like herself. Well, more or less. She tasted a tiny piece of fritter batter critically and added another dash of nutmeg. Fluttershy liked extra nutmeg in her fritters. Her wings would lift a little and she’d get a tiny, peaceful smile as she chewed. Applejack sighed and forced her old wooden spoon through the batter three more times and tossed in two finely-diced apples, folding them in with quick, precise movements.

Her test fritter, a tiny wisp of a thing, crisped and browned almost instantly in the hot oil. She scooped out three at a time for the pot until the batter was gone. She ran upstairs while they cooled on a tray and ran a brush through her mane for the fourth time since waking, the long strokes calming her anxieties and leaving her hair silky smooth and shiny. Her hat had gotten a spot-cleaning, and her hooves practically shone with a hard-won cleanliness. She looked herself over in her cracked and tarnished mirror. She looked pretty good, all things considered. Dark bags still hung beneath her slightly bloodshot eyes, but she looked like she cared about her appearance, for once. Hopefully, it would be enough. She fussed with the tilt of her hat for another minute or two and finally made herself walk downstairs, pack the fritters, and let the others know she was heading out.

That part was made easier by the three of them walking into the kitchen to kick off Pasta Night. Applejack crossed necks with each of them warmly. “I’ll prob’ly be back late tonight,” she said, adjusting her saddlebags nervously. “Y’all enjoy your dinner?”

Granny chuckled and clicked her teeth in mocking disappointment. “You be sure to treat ‘er right, tonight, Applejack,” she warbled. “That young bird’s a keeper if’n I ever saw one…”

Applejack grinned and tugged on her hat respectfully. “Yes’m,” she grunted, before ruffling Apple Bloom’s hair.

“Hey!” Apple Bloom squawked, setting her bow straight again. Chuckling and practically skipping, Applejack made her way to Fluttershy’s cottage in close-to-record time.

Getting to Fluttershy’s porch stoop was easy. But knocking on the door? Whole other can o’ worms. Applejack raised her hoof yet another time in who knew how many minutes, wound it back, and … What if she’s busy? set it back down on the stoop.

“C’mon, you idiot,” she muttered, glaring at her traitor of a leg. “Jes’ two more inches …” Finally, as a chilly drop of sweat prickled down her back, she took a deep breath, touched her hat for luck, and slammed her foreleg into Fluttershy’s door with an embarrassingly loud thud. And then she waited, patiently, her perked ears picking up Fluttershy’s voice but not the words she said.

The door creaked open and Applejack skittered back nervously, trying her best to look suave, collected, anything but the bundle of stampeding nerves she felt. Her back hoof caught on the edge of the stoop and she tumbled into a bush. An irate squirrel ran across her face with tiny razor feet, chittering in protest.

“Oh, my goodness!” Fluttershy cried, rushing over worriedly.

“Uhh …” Applejack managed, disentangling herself from various twigs.

Fluttershy swooped down next to her and eyed the small scratches and dirt stains on her shoulders and haunches. “Oh dear, oh dear …” she muttered, before her eyes snapped onto Applejack’s nervous smile. “Would you like to come inside?” Fluttershy offered.

“Thank you kindly.” Applejack moved in for a cautious nuzzle before ambling inside and shucking her saddlebags. She pulled out the sack of fritters - hardly any of them were squished, surprisingly. “Fluttershy? Lend me a plate for these?”

Fluttershy smiled and pulled down the mouth-carved wooden platter they’d gotten at last year’s Harvest Parade from its high shelf. Applejack lifted the paper sack and the fritters tumbled out, followed by a few greasy crumbs and globs of powdered sugar. Applejack folded the bag carefully and stashed it back in her saddlebag before flashing a quick smile at Fluttershy. She almost gestured toward the couch in the living room but stopped herself short. What if that set ‘Shy off again? This was Fluttershy’s house, after all. It’d be awful presumptuous to order her girlfriend around in her own home. Applejack shifted nervously from one hoof to the next, her eyes wandering around the various nests and warrens that occupied the walls, ceiling, floor corners…

“Would you like to sit down?” Fluttershy finally asked. Applejack nodded gratefully and followed Fluttershy onto the faded green loveseat, curling her legs beneath her. Fluttershy hooked one of Applejack’s forelegs with her own, and Applejack sank into the easy comfort of the worn upholstery and Fluttershy’s eyes.

Minutes might have gone by as Applejack finally gave in and pressed her face against Fluttershy’s, nosed through her long, soft mane and snorted in the wildflower and stormcloud perfume that always lingered there. She nickered happily as Fluttershy nuzzled her back, nibbled along her ears and left tiny, warm kisses on the underside of her jaw. At some point, they’d gotten tangled together on the tiny old sofa, so that Applejack was nearly breathing in Fluttershy’s feathers while she stared into Fluttershy’s eyes, and her hindlegs were probably tangled up in Fluttershy’s tail. Really, though, Applejack couldn’t complain. For the first time in weeks, she felt like she could lie still and the world would wait with her. For the first time in weeks, she felt like she was right where she needed to be. For the first time in weeks, she felt like she belonged. For the first time in weeks, she felt whole. She wished this moment could stretch on for weeks, for years...

The universe had a tendency of ending these moments for Applejack, though. This time, the universe (in the form of Angel Bunny) cut it short by bouncing a rock-hard carrot end off her head. Repeatedly. She chuckled and kissed Fluttershy’s nose, earning a harder throw. She wiggled around and kissed Fluttershy full on the mouth, fighting off giggles as Fluttershy’s tongue worked its way smoothly into her mouth and Angel Bunny landed on her side, tapping his back foot impatiently, and probably territorially, too. She’d gotten used to his little jealous fits long ago - it came with the territory. She broke off the kiss with Fluttershy somewhat reluctantly and looked back at the furious, growling rabbit.

“What, you wanna kiss ‘er too?” she joked. Angel turned bright red and made what was presumably a rude gesture at around the same time Fluttershy whacked her playfully. Applejack broke out into the loud chuckles she’d been fighting for so long and carefully, gently removed herself from the mess of limbs, ‘accidentally’ knocking Angel off her ribcage as she went. She snatched one last quick smooch from Fluttershy and glanced around at the various critters who’d gathered around the room, twitching their wet little noses. “You want help feeding the masses, sugar?” she asked. Fluttershy shook her head. Applejack nodded. “Alright. Mind if I get ahead on feeding the two of us, then?”

Fluttershy got off the couch and stretched, her lithe muscles rippling and twitching as she sighed. “There’s some cheese I got at the market. You could throw it in a salad,” she suggested, hefting a bag of rabbit pellets. Applejack trotted to the ice box with a little grin on her face. For the first time in weeks, she felt like things were headed the right way.

After dinner, the two of them had migrated back to the sofa and resumed their snuggling. Fluttershy rested half-awake in her forelegs, warm and soft like always. Each slow breath Fluttershy took lulled Applejack further and further into a state of total, relaxed surrender. Tears lingered in her eyes as she remembered her earlier behavior - she had to clear the air. She had to get this guilt out of her body so she could relax and enjoy this precious moment.

“Fluttershy,” she murmured. ‘Shy shifted, and a single turquoise eye peered through the curtains of her mane. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier today. Real sorry.” Fluttershy blinked, and Applejack’s heart jumped up into her throat, heavy ahd cold. She swallowed.

“I know you are,” Fluttershy murmured, snuggling further back into Applejack’s chest. That should have been it. That little exchange should have killed the nagging sense of wrongness brewing in Applejack’s chest, but if anything, it got a little worse.

“And …” Applejack squeezed lightly at Fluttershy’s midriff, as if to make sure she couldn’t leave, wouldn’t leave, “And I’m sorry if I’ve been too busy lately,” she whispered, kissing Fluttershy’s neck with a tender softness. “I know we haven’t spent a lot of time together lately, just the two of us …” Fluttershy had gone rigid, an unnatural stillness that set off all of Applejack’s alarms. “Darlin’, if you ever need me for anything you just tell me, alright?” she soothed, running a hoof down Fluttershy’s stiff side. “I’ll drop everything the moment you say so. You know that, right?” Applejack hated the way her voice sounded - the whiny, needy edge to it. She hated Fluttershy’s silence. She hated the tension running between the two of them; live wires, a storm of barbed silence.

“Fluttershy?” Fluttershy had started trembling slightly, little twitches in her primaries. “‘Baby? What’d I do?” Silence. “Please, Fluttershy, what’d I say?” Applejack couldn’t breathe - the room had shrunk, somehow, until it was just the two of them and the weight of whatever mistake she'd made. "'Shy, I'm sorry," she moaned brokenly, nosing at the spot below Fluttershy's ear that normally relaxed her.

Fluttershy sighed and rolled over, stared woodenly into Applejack's watery eyes. "Applejack, I'm tired. Can we just ... Not do this, right now?" she sighed. Her blue-green eyes looked haunted for a fleeting moment, and then she rolled off the sofa. "Let's go to bed, alright?"

Applejack snorted softly and glanced at the door once, twice. "I told Granny I'd be home tonight..." She stopped short at the flash of familiar lonely desire in Fluttershy's face.

"Applejack, I need you here tonight," Fluttershy said. Applejack couldn't think of what was stranger - that Fluttershy hadn't asked, or that Fluttershy's near-demand didn't surprise her.

Applejack sighed. "Could you get one of your bat friends to drop a message, then? I don't want the family to worry..."

Fluttershy nodded and smiled gently, her whole face brightening. "I'll take care of it," she said, nudging Applejack toward the staircase. "See you upstairs?" Applejack nodded and trudged up to the second floor. It was all she could do to run a lazy pass with her spare toothbrush. A lead weight sat in her chest, urging her to rest. So she flopped onto the soft mattress and looked out the window at the bright stars. After a while, Fluttershy slid beneath the covers to join her, cuddling up to her with a happy murmur.

Applejack snuck a hoof behind Fluttershy's withers and kissed her forehead, smiling as Fluttershy giggled breathily and curled in closer to her. Fluttershy's breaths slowed down gradually as she drifted asleep. Applejack stroked Fluttershy's silky mane for a time, watching her peaceful face in the silvery light from outside. Then she looked out towards the stars again and watched them march slowly across the sky. She shivered despite the warm softness of Fluttershy pressed against her. Something was wrong, no doubt about it. Something needed to change. Applejack stroked Fluttershy's mane absently and thought, as the cold light of the stars outside shone on.

Chapter 4

Applejack blinked slowly to wakefulness, squinting against the sunlight lancing through the window. She threw back the covers and paused as Fluttershy let out a sleepy murmur of discontent. A warm, soft, yellow hoof wrapped around Applejack’s chest and tugged her in closer, and Fluttershy’s muzzle buried itself into Applejack’s mane. Applejack chuckled lightly and lay still for a moment longer, basking in the feeling of another body lying against hers. The emptiness in her chest was nearly gone, a tiny echo. But the morning sun brought unwelcome urgency as it crept across the bedsheets. As a guilty anxiety coiled up in her chest, Applejack finally shook Fluttershy awake.

“Mmm… whaz?” Fluttershy mumbled, squirming groggily. She slowly blinked her crusty eyes and smiled at Applejack with a breath-taking openness.

“Morning, beautiful,” Applejack breathed back, smoothing the worst of Fluttershy’s sleep-tangled hair from her face. She sighed contentedly and stared at Fluttershy’s face. This soon after waking, none of the guarded tension from the last month showed in her turquoise eyes. The dreamlike serenity of Fluttershy’s face reminded Applejack of their first, awkward dates; spilling a bottle of wine while stargazing, walking for hours through the Whitetail woods talking about anything that crossed their minds, missing the first two acts of a fancy Veneightian opera because cuddling seemed vastly more important…

Applejack nuzzled her way into a tender kiss, savoring the feel of Fluttershy’s soft lips against her own and the sense of closeness it brought. The morning sun hit Fluttershy’s face and taunted Applejack for her lateness - She should have been in the fields three hours ago. She lovingly licked Fluttershy’s chin and shuffled out of her loving embrace.

“‘Shy, I gotta get ready for the day, alright? Lemme rustle up some breakfast for us,” she said, tensing slightly, preparing for Fluttershy’s irritation. Instead, Fluttershy smiled a little wider and nipped her ear playfully.

“That sounds lovely, Applejack. Thank you.” Sleep had left Fluttershy’s voice low and just husky enough to give Applejack some … ideas. But instead, with one smooth roll, Applejack toppled out of the bed and landed on her hooves with a soft thud.

Less than ten minutes later, she was scrambling fresh eggs from the coop and heating Fluttershy’s skillet for omelets. A mug of eye-wateringly strong tea steamed on the counter next to her. She swigged a bitter mouthful of it before pouring out the first pan-full of egg mixture. She threw some chopped greens (from Angel's stash) and half the leftover cheese into the center and waited for the edges of the soon-to-be-omelet to crisp up entirely. Applejack folded her creation into neat thirds and flipped it expertly. The resulting sizzle sent a wonderful cloud of savory steam into the kitchen, and Applejack sighed happily. Last night's worries had almost left her; barely a troubled whisper slithered through her skull.

As she started her second omelet, Applejack began to hum quietly to herself, riding on the high her peace of mind had brought her. Maybe if she had more mornings like this, whatever was going on between her and Fluttershy lately would work itself out. Maybe if they had more mornings like this … Several pieces locked together in Applejack’s mind. She knew how to fix things, now. All she had to do was talk to Fluttershy.

With feather-light steps, Fluttershy came into the kitchen. Smiling, Applejack trotted to the table with two warm plates balanced on her back and slid them onto the knife-scarred ash with an eager twitch. Fluttershy smiled brightly as Applejack sat down beside her and nuzzled at Applejack’s neck dreamily.

“I could get used to mornings like this,” Fluttershy sighed. She bit into her lightly steaming omelet and let out a soft, embarassing moan. “I could really get used to mornings like this,” she repeated, squeezing Applejack tightly with her wing. Applejack chuckled and ate some of her own breakfast. Even she had to admit the food had turned out pretty well.

“‘Bout that...” Applejack began. An icy dread crept into her gut for some reason. She snuggled a little further into Fluttershy’s soft, warm feathers. Fluttershy looked at her, inquiring. Applejack ran her tongue around her suddenly dry mouth and twitched her cheeks into the smile she was feeling somewhere. “Well, Fluttershy, I’ve been thinking a bit, and …” Applejack stalled again, staring almost desperately into Fluttershy’s eyes for any sign on how this would go. She found nothing and breathed in, ready for an explosion, ready for silence, ready for anything. “What would you think of me moving in with you?”

She winced slightly as Fluttershy’s wing contracted in shock. Even now, she got surprised with quite how strong Fluttershy’s wings were, compared to how she used them. Fluttershy stared at her for another few, tense seconds, light tremors running through her body, before she finally relaxed again. “Applejack? What brought this on?” Good - she wasn’t angry. Just surprised. Applejack unclenched her jaw.

“Well, you’ve been real busy lately, and I’m not gonna lie … I’ve been missing you a little. A lot, really.” Fluttershy’s brow crinkled and her wing tightened ever-so-slightly around Applejack’s withers. “I know how important it is for you to keep helping out your animal friends, though, so I figured if I wanna spend more time with you, I should take the steps to make it happen. And … well, it’s been real nice getting to stay the night, spend the morning. Just … spending time with you.” Fluttershy was smiling now, her wingtip dipping slowly towards Applejack’s Cutie Mark. Applejack’s heart was bouncing against her ribs happily and her whole body buzzed with a pleasant heat. “So I thought that if I moved here … I mean, full-time, then we’d get more time together. Then we …” Applejack swallowed and corrected herself. “Then I’d be happier.”

The smile hadn’t slipped from Fluttershy’s face, although her head tilted slightly. “What about your family?”

Applejack shrugged as much as she could without disturbing Fluttershy’s wing. “It’s not too far to walk to the Acres for work every day, and I’ll spend lunches with ‘em,” she said, nuzzling Fluttershy for a moment. “They’ll be fine.”

Fluttershy nodded and polished off her omelet. When she’d swallowed her last mouthful, she licked her lips and flicked her ears. “Well, I’d like to see more of you, too...” She looked over Applejack one more time as if searching for reasons against the plan. “I’d love it if you moved in, Applejack.”

Applejack rinsed the dishes and excused herself for work. It hadn’t been hard to do so, since Belinda had woken up and Fluttershy’s other animals were clamoring to be fed. She broke into a sprint when she saw the sun. It was almost 9:00, and she’d planned on having the West Orchard done before lunchtime.

She headed straight for the rows of trees she had in mind the moment she passed the Acres’ main gate. Any time wasted, even to check in with Granny before heading out, was another tree she could be harvesting. So, mildly out of breath, she started on the first row, picking up her usual rhythm quickly and tearing through the field at reckless speeds. So what if she chipped a hoof against a rock while she turned to take on the tenth row? She’d told her family she’d finish the West Orchard before lunchtime, and her family depended on her.

Some weaker part of Applejack was relieved when the lunch bell rang out across the field. She trotted in on shaky legs and slumped to her haunches as soon as everything had been loaded out from the kitchen. Granny touched her shoulder gently on her way to the head of the table.

“We missed ya this morning, Applejack,” she drawled. Something about the tremors in her Granny’s voice made Applejack feel like she’d done something horribly wrong. She ducked her head and her ears drooped down.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Granny. I guess I haven’t slept well, an’ ‘Shy’s alarm is later than mine most days,” Applejack confessed, flicking her tail nervously. “I’ve only got four more rows in the West field to do after lunch, and then I’ll be good for whatever else you need, though.”

Granny smirked as she ladled out some lentil soup. “T’ain’t what I meant, child, an’ you know it,” she chided, sliding the bowl to Mac. The second bowl sloshed to a halt in front of Applejack. “Now, since you’re back, what d’ya want for supper tonight?”

Applejack froze. In her rush to get to work she’d forgotten that her family couldn’t read minds. So of course they didn’t know the plan. “Part of the other reason I was so late is ‘cause Fluttershy and I had ourselves a talk,” She began. If she eased into it, it would probably go across better.

Granny leaned in slightly. “Everythin’ alright ‘twixt the two of ya?” she asked, leaning in closer.

Applejack nodded. “We decided I should move in with ‘er,” she said. It didn’t calm Granny down like she thought it would. The worry just burned brighter.

“Whut? Ya mean tonight?” Granny almost yelped.

Applejack grimaced and nodded again. “The sooner the better,” she said, shrugging slightly. A quick glance over to Big Mac showed her brother looking tensely back at her. From the set of his jaw, she could tell he was completely against it. Granny’s eyes blazed and her mouth opened.

“Look,” Applejack interrupted her before she could get started. “I know this sounds sudden, ‘cause it is. An’ maybe it’s not such a great idea to do durin’ Applebuck season, an’ I’m sorry for that, alright? But I gotta do this, Granny…” Applejack stared at her soup for a few seconds before she got the courage to say what had to be said. She looked first at Mac, even tenser than before, then at Granny, who opened her mouth preemptively. Applejack held up a hoof to stall her.

“Granny, I’m losin’ her,” Applejack pleaded. “She’s drifting away from me, and you’re right, she is a keeper. She really, really is. But I look in her eyes and sometimes it's like there’s a stranger there, Granny. So I’m gonna try an’ hold her close, like maybe I should’ve earlier. If I don’t try now I’ll never forgive myself. That’s why I gotta go.”

Granny nodded slowly and started slurping noisily at her soup. With that, the tension in the air fell to pieces and the three of them enjoyed their lunch together in relative silence, like always. Applejack cleared the last four rows easily and joined Mac on the South Hills, clearing a respectable 2 acres before sundown.

Applejack sat in her room ...No, her old room ... and stared at the saggy cardboard box on her bed her old bed. She’d never really thought about ownership before, really. Pretty much everything in the house belonged to the family, really. The quilt on her… on the bed, sewn by her great-aunt Ambrosia, sorta technically belonged to granny if you squinted. Apple Bloom would probably get it, since she’d been complaining about cold hooves in the night. That was the way it ran ‘round here, more or less. And all the things that really belonged to Applejack and Applejack only could fit into this raggedy little box. She hoisted the box in question onto her back with a tiny sigh and headed downstairs. It toppled off her back when Apple Bloom tackled her in a bonecrushing hug.

“Hey now,” Applejack soothed, hugging Apple Bloom back, “I’ll be here in the mornings, and the weekends and all. It’s not like I’m gone forever.” Apple Bloom sniffled and buried her face into Applejack’s side. Applejack stroked her trembling back steadily. “Besides, you’re a big filly now, right? You were telling me so two nights ago.” Apple Bloom gave a tiny, reluctant nod and sniffled again. “So you don’t really need you ol’ sis around all the time, right? I know I’m always crampin’ your style these days.” Apple Bloom gave an even smaller, jerkier nod and what could have been a suppressed sob. Applejack nuzzled her insistently and waited nearly a minute before talking again. One of them had to.

“Bloom, I love you so much, don’t you forget that.” Applejack’s voice was rough with unshed tears, and she squeezed Apple Bloom dangerously tight. “And if you ever need to talk, I’ll listen. Always. But I gotta think of Fluttershy, too, and that’s why I’m movin’ out. Alright?”

“Alright,” Apple Bloom whispered. After one last squeeze, Applejack pried ‘Bloom off of her and picked up her box again. The front door closed heavily behind her and she walked off towards Fluttershy’s … No, their house.

That’s right, Applejack thought as she crested the final hill and saw smoke trailing out of Fluttershy’s chimney. This is my home now.

Chapter 5

Applejack woke before her usual time and jumped out of bed before she could fall asleep again. Fluttershy murmured in her sleep and rolled over. Applejack hissed softly as her hooves hit the chill floorboards and stifled a curse as she nearly stepped on one of the semi-feral tabbies that had chosen to curl up at the top of the staircase.

She leapt over the dozing kitten and staggered into the kitchen, searching through the cabinets for ... Right... Fluttershy doesn't do coffee. Applejack sighed and poured herself some cold water instead. Thankfully, Fluttershy had some oats lying around, so she wasn't exactly hungry when she left for work. That said, she wasn't as full of energy or food as she normally was, or liked to be. She decided to swing by the farmhouse for a bite before working; oats weren't that filling, anyways.

Applejack crunched down the bowlful of dry grains and grabbed a pencil and pad of paper she’d seen lying around and scrawled out:

Fluttershy, I’m going off for work, but I’ll pick up some fresh produce on my way

back. Have a great day.

Love, Applejack

She locked the door behind her and headed off in the pre-dawn darkness to get some work in before sunrise.

Applejack managed to slop the pigs before the prospect of coffee became too great a temptation. She yawned heavily and trotted to the farmhouse. She nosed the kitchen door open and crept through to the dining room

“... I think Ms. Cheerilee said we’d be talkin’ about the Everfree Forest an’ how all the plants an’ animals live together,” Apple Bloom was saying. Her bright eyes danced with the joy of learning, and her ears perked suddenly as Applejack knocked against the doorframe softly.

“Mind if I join you for a cuppa joe?” Applejack asked awkwardly. Her whole family nodded and she smiled, pouring herself a mug full of dark coffee. She took a burning mouthful: bitter, dark, and gritty, just how she liked. She snagged a roll as she passed the plate to her brother and munched on it thoughtfully. Somehow each bite was more satisfying than her entire breakfast had been. It must’ve been something about home cooking.

When Applejack came back to the cottage, her saddlebags creaked from the weight of the carrots, potatoes, alfalfa and squash she’d forced into them at the market. She sidled through the mudroom, trying her best to keep from knocking something off the shelving with the extra width the food gave her. She found Fluttershy in the kitchen, throwing some of her homegrown herbs and roots into a soup.

“Sweetheart?Where should I put these?”Applejack asked. Fluttershy turned around with a gentle smile on face before blinking, nonplussed.

“I’m sure’ll find room for all that somewhere,” she said, rearranging the shelves of her pantry. Applejack looked at her saddlebags, looked at Fluttershy, at the kitchen, and back at her saddlebags.

“Aw, shoot.” Applejack could feel a blush spreading across her face. “I’m not used to shoppin’ for two. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Fluttershy smiled indulgently and lifted Applejack’s bags off her back. She set them directly onto the second shelf of the tiny closet and closed the door softly. “It’s fine, Applejack,” she said, before checking on the soup. “I know this is a big adjustment.”

Calling it an adjustment seemed like an understatement. Once the last of the nocturnal animals went out and did its thing, Fluttershy’s cottage got painfully quiet. Even Fluttershy’s gentle breaths from the other side of the bed seemed muted. Applejack almost started humming, anything to break free of the stifling silence. But instead she lay on her side and looked out the window until her eyes burned too much to keep open.

Applejack woke up later the next morning, groggily. The first rays of sunshine had stained the horizon a deep red as she clambered out of bed. She forced her mane and tail into their ties as Fluttershy snored delicately and chomped down a couple carrots on her way to the Acres. She plowed through groves, occasionally bruising trees with unrestrained kicks, cursing every time. But no matter how hard she worked, no matter how fast she cleared the trees around her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was running out of time.

When lunchtime rolled around, though, Applejack settled down a little bit. The good food filled her up with a warm contentedness, and the usual, comfortable silence between the three of them gave her time to let her mind rest and drift a little. When she got back to her work, She was cool and collected. Every so often, though, the notion would creep up on her that she was being followed, and she’d go just a little bit faster, to be sure.

Applejack cantered to the cottage around sunset. She could’ve kept working alongside Mac for another hour or so, but she knew Fluttershy would be having dinner soon. She pushed herself to go a little faster. It wouldn’t be right if she made ‘Shy wait before eating.

She could smell baked squash the moment she opened the front door. Fluttershy uncovered the casserole dish and dished out the mash she’d made. Applejack slid in beside her at the table and gave her a small kiss on the cheek.

“Have a good day?” she asked, gently rubbing Fluttershy’s shoulders. Fluttershy nodded and purred happily, stretching into Applejack’s forehooves gratefully.

“Harry stopped by for a little while,” she said, flinching as Applejack worked out a particularly vicious knot. “He’s started courting the sow who lives by the broken hill. Belinda’s leg is healing well and the woodpeckers figured out their territory dispute peacefully.”

Applejack smiled and kissed Fluttershy’s neck softly. “Sounds pretty eventful.” She rubbed Fluttershy’s back a couple times before turning to her plate and tucking in to dinner. She rolled her own aching shoulders a few times while chewing, trying to smooth out the kinks in the muscles

“I missed you this morning, Applejack.” Fluttershy’s hoof laid itself firmly on hers.

“Sorry.” It was almost a reflex, nowadays. “I’ve been tryin’ to pull longer days, to see if I can’t get ahead a little.”

Fluttershy nodded. “Maybe we could have breakfast together? Before you go?”

Applejack nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Fluttershy?” Applejack gently shook her sleeping girlfriend. “Fluttershy? Darlin’?”

“Szzwhusgoinon?” Fluttershy whispered, rolling away from Applejack and onto her stomach.

“Sweetheart, you said you wanted to have breakfast together, right? I have some porridge goin’ downstairs. All I’m missin’ for a breakfast with you is you.” Fluttershy crinkled her nose and shook her head suddenly, hauling herself out of bed with monumental effort. Her eyes half-shut, she stumbled against Applejack and then wobbled to the stairs, grumbling something through her closed lips. Applejack set a mug of tea in front of Fluttershy and watched her nearly inhale it. Her sleepy eyes opened a bit more, and she smiled wanly in Applejack’s direction.

“What time is it?” she asked, her voice raspy from sleep.

“Almost 4:30. Figured I shouldn’t wake you until everything was ready.”

Fluttershy did a slow motion double-take. “Why are we up so early?”

Applejack refilled Fluttershy’s tea and gave her a bowl of porridge. “If I get enough done the next few days, I can take the weekend easy,” she explained, eating some of her own breakfast. “Maybe we could do something together?”

Fluttershy made noncommittal sounds, her muzzle once again occupied by her mug of tea. She was trying, for sure, but Applejack could tell how badly Fluttershy wanted to be in bed and sleeping. Still, they hugged and kissed before Applejack left for work, and the trip to the Acres seemed shorter.

The next three days flew by. Applejack had a goal - clear the Southern Hills and take the weekend off. She worked with a purpose, pounding down the paths between the Hills and the apple cellar with her frequent trips. She was the first one to start work, and she was the last to park her cart at night. She slept well at night, either from pure physical exhaustion or the knowledge that she would have the weekend with Fluttershy, two days to unwind and reconnect.

Not that she was a slouch when it came to housework. She’d insisted on doing dishes when Fluttershy cooked, and she made sure there was enough firewood split to keep the cottage cozy.

Applejack slept in on Saturday morning, and for the first time in a week she woke to an empty bed. She rolled out of the tangled covers and worked her way downstairs, following the sound of Fluttershy’s voice.

“Yes, you have to eat it. I know it doesn’t taste very nice, but it’s better than catching the flu that’s been going around…” Fluttershy was staring at a couple young starlings, and a few of her patented vaccinated nut clusters sat untouched on a plate. From the smell of things, she’d been cooking up a lot more of them than the two she saw in the living room. Applejack’s eyes wandered around the living room, at the seventy-odd birds lining the walls and cubbies. Some of them were pecking at the clusters and others looked to be waiting their turns in varying states of dread.

“Morning, Fluttershy,” Applejack greeted, looking into the kitchen briefly to see if there was any breakfast lying around. Instead, at least a hundred more vaccinated nut clusters lined the counters on wax paper. She looked back at Fluttershy, who hadn’t stopped talking gently to the birds in front of her. Finally, they grasped the clusters in reluctant claws and flew to a roosting spot, nibbling dutifully.

“Good morning, Applejack,” Fluttershy finally said on her way to grab more of the bird vaccines. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah…” Fluttershy trotted back out with a full tray and called over some blue jays “Hey, Fluttershy? Are you doing anything this afternoon?” Fluttershy turned around and looked at her askance.

“Applejack, getting all the birds ready for Feather Flu season will take the next day and a half,” she said, turning back to the jays and convincing them to eat the clusters she offered them.

“I thought we were gonna spend the weekend together,” Applejack almost whined. She cringed at the tone in her voice and stared a hole into Fluttershy’s back. “We talked about it Wednesday morning, remember?”

“I’m bad with early mornings,” Fluttershy sighed. “Maybe if you’d brought it up again later, but … if I wait longer on these the medicine could spoil.”

Applejack took a couple steps forward. “Could I help you out? Would that speed things up?”

Fluttershy shook her head, a tiny, tight motion. “The last time you tried to help with birds, I had to wait three days before any of them would talk to me.”

Applejack sighed. “Can I at least sit by you for a spell?”

Fluttershy giggled. “Applejack? When did you get so clingy?”

Applejack grabbed her hat and a scarf and went for a walk. There was too much going on in the room and she needed some peace and quiet.

Applejack came back with an eggplant from Roseluck’s greenhouse. Even though it was a decadence, Eggplant Parmesan was one of Fluttershy’s absolute favorite things to eat. Ans Applejack had been so rude, storming out without an explanation … She cleared a space in the kitchen and set to work, chopping and sauteing and preheating the oven to bake it all.

When the melted cheese on top had reached a wonderful, crispy brown around the edges, Applejack checked the table settings and walked into the living room to grab Fluttershy. ‘Shy’s face lit up when she saw what dinner was, and her stomach rumbled hugely.

“Did you forget lunch again?” Applejack asked, setting a heaping chunk of the casserole on Fluttershy’s plate. Fluttershy thought and nodded. “Sugar …” Applejack chided, serving herself. “You gotta take better care of yourself.”

A tense silence stretched between the two of them as they ate. The hairs on Applejack’s neck raised up like they did in thunderstorms, and she realised her legs were tensed for action. “Listen, I’m sorry ‘bout before,” she said. “T’weren’t right for me to walk out with no explanation. Maybe I shoulda talked some more, but I just had to get out.”

Some emotion flashed through Fluttershy’s expressive eyes before she leaned in a little closer. “Well, is everything alright, Applejack?” Concern colored her voice and Applejack felt an absurd wave of guilt. Fluttershy had better things to worry about than her.

Applejack pulled on a shaky smile. “It’s prolly just getting settled in here,” she said. “It’s takin’ longer than I thought it would.” As they settled back into their dinners, Applejack wondered if she had told a lie.

The next day, Applejack headed back to the Acres to work. It was better use of her time than lounging around and being in the way. During lunch, Apple Bloom regaled her with stories of her school week. Applejack started glazing over a little, listening more to the sound of Apple Bloom’s voice than her words as she chewed.

“Applejack?” Applejack swallowed the last, refreshing mouthful of fresh juice and turned, her tongue still tingling as she regarded her sister.

“Yeah, AB? What’s up?”

Apple Bloom fidgeted awkwardly and shuffled closer, glancing around before looking Applejack in the eyes. “Umm … well, it’s just …” She breathed deeply and started again. “I asked Mac last night if he’d tell me about the Giant Ponies before I went to sleep, and he doesn’t tell it like you do.” All the air rushed from Applejack’s lungs. The strength left her legs and her heart raced painfully fast. Apple Bloom had her transfixed, caught in a shimmering, teary-eyed stare. “Do … Do you think sometime you could stay late and tell it to me so I remember the right way it goes?” Apple Bloom’s voice had gone husky with suppressed emotion. Then her first tear hit the floor with a wet slap, and Applejack broke.

She hugged Apple Bloom tightly, stroking her mane comfortingly. She could feel Apple Bloom’s tears and snot soaking into her shoulder. She nuzzled at the top of Apple Bloom’s mane, breathing in the bitter smell of dandruff shampoo and tree bark. “I’m sorry,” Applejack whispered, holding Apple Bloom a little tighter. “I’m so, so sorry.” Eventually Apple Bloom’s tears ran out, and Applejack tried to smile. It came out more as a grimace, twisted as it was by guilt.

She sat there by the table with one foreleg around Apple Bloom’s withers for a long while. Her hoof ran absentminded circles on Apple Bloom’s ribcage, and she leaned over to groom Apple Bloom’s mane every so often, just to feel a little closer again.

“‘Bloom, I gotta go have myself a talk, but I’ll be back,” Applejack finally said. Apple Bloom stiffened and squeezed her tight, pressing her face into Applejack’s side. “Look, I’ll probably be back tonight, alright?” With extreme gentleness, Applejack removed herself from Apple Bloom’s clingy embrace and gave her one last nuzzle for reassurance. Then she made the walk to Fluttershy’s cottage, thinking hard about what to say and how to say it. Something wasn’t working, and something needed to change.

Applejack knocked on the front door and let herself in. She found Fluttershy in the living room, forcing a vaccine down a sparrow’s throat with an eyedropper. “We need to talk,” she said.

Fluttershy looked at her in alarm. “Applejack, this isn’t really a good time.” she gestured to all the birds in the room with a sweep of her wing.

Applejack sighed. “Seems like there’s never a good time, anymore, sugar. But I got some things that need saying, and I figure now’s about as good as I’m gonna get.”

Fluttershy got three drops of medicine into the back of the sparrow’s throat and called the next bird over. “Alright, I’m listening.”

“Fluttershy, I think moving in with you was a mistake,” Applejack said. Fluttershy dropped her pipette in alarm. “I think I should go back to the Acres for a while.”

“How can you think this is a mistake?” Fluttershy asked, her eyes darting around. “This was your idea, Applejack!”

Applejack stared at her hooves. “I panicked, alright? I wasn’t exactly thinking when I asked you. ‘M not always the best at thinking things through.”

“I’ve noticed,” Fluttershy deadpanned. Applejack could almost feel her icy stare and swallowed nervously.

“Look,” she explained, looking up at Fluttershy, “I thought that maybe if we spent more time together things would sort themselves out between us. But all it did was show me that we don’t have time for each other anymore.”

Fluttershy stepped closer. “What do you mean?”

“When’s the last time we spent real quality time together? Just the two of us?” Fluttershy thought for a minute and deflated a little. “You’re working, or I’m working, or we’re both too tired to get any sorta mood going on.” Fluttershy gave a tiny nod, her eyes troubled.

“An’ I’ve been trying to meet you halfway, ‘Shy,” Applejack continued, “But lately it feels more like three quarters, and I can’t do it anymore. I got more things in my life than you, an’ I gotta honor that.

Fluttershy bristled in slow motion, her eyes turning hard and icy, her ears cocking forward aggressively, and her beautiful mouth turning up in an indignant sneer. “What do you mean by that?” Her voice sent shivers down Applejack’s spine.

Applejack snorted. “I mean I worked damn near 15 hours on Friday so’s we could have the weekend together because I thought you were on board with me. An’ then I figured that even though you were busy I could hang around an’ make your life easier. Or at the very least …” Applejack paused. She was starting to shout, which wasn’t good. So she waited to calm down before continuing.

“Darlin’, you used to let me stick around and watch you work. I love watching you work. But I guess it’s out of the question, now. An’ if that’s the way things are gonna be between us, I’d rather be with my family than stayin’ awake at night for missing ‘em.”

Fluttershy moved closer. “Applejack, this doesn’t mean you have to leave,” she said. “You’ve told me what’s wrong, and now we can fix it. We can still make this work, right?” She drooped as Applejack paused, chewing on her lip. “Right?” she begged, her eyes burning into Applejack’s needfully.

Applejack rubbed the bridge of her nose and looked at anything but Fluttershy, for fear that her resolve would break. “I’m sure we’ll get everythin’ settled, but for right now I think I need some space,” she said. “Just lemme grab my things an’ I’ll be outta your hair.”

Applejack shoved past her and up to the bedroom. She grabbed her mama’s picture, her toothbrush, extra hairties, and her best lasso and piled them into her saggy cardboard box. Fluttershy flew up the stairs and tried to tug the box from her grip. Applejack let go before it ripped and stood back, glaring.

“Fluttershy, gimme my things, please.”

Fluttershy’s eyes brimmed with panicked tears and her breath came in tiny gasps and pants. Applejack wanted nothing more than to hug her, to tell her it would be okay, but she held herself still and strong. She’d told Apple Bloom she’d be back tonight, and she meant to keep her promise.

“Fluttershy, please. I need my stuff.” Fluttershy hugged the beaten cardboard closer to her chest, defiantly. Applejack snorted. It was getting harder and harder to keep a level head. “Fluttershy, I’m gonna ask you one more time. Gimme the damn box.”

Rage flared suddenly in Fluttershy’s eyes. She set the box behind her and landed. “Why? So you can run away from your latest problem instead of sticking through it?” she spat, crouching defensively. Applejack took a step back, and Fluttershy advanced, her red-rimmed eyes narrowed viciously. “You always run away the moment anything gets bad, don’t you, Applejack?” she snarled. “Go ahead, turn around and retreat, you cowardly, immature …”

“Fluttershy, I’m tryin’ real hard to be reasonable here,” Applejack shouted, biting her cheek to keep herself in check, “But you’re not making it easy!” She bit a little harder and tasted blood. “I’m leaving now before this gets worse than it is.”

“Should I save you some dinner, or will you be in Dodge Junction by then?” Fluttershy sniped. Ten seconds crashed through the room like thunder. Applejack stopped short and stiffened. She replayed the last few seconds desperately, each time sending another jolt of pain into her chest. Her legs moved turned her around while her mind struggled to catch up.

“You don’t talk to me like that,” Applejack growled, trembling with suppressed rage. “You don’t ever talk to me like that, y’hear?” Her last words echoed through the bedroom and Fluttershy shrank in on herself with a whimper. Applejack pulled a sharp turnaround and marched out of the room, eyes straight ahead. Her teeth tore through the inside of her cheek and she paused once more at the stairwell. “Come find me when you’re ready to talk like an adult,” she said, before leaving the house. She slammed the door hard behind her and headed home to the acres, her shoulders tight with the effort of controlling herself.

Author's Note

Revised as of 2:11 pm EST. Because I'm a picky person.

Chapter 6

Applejack helped Granny mop the kitchen floor and cleaned out the fireplace. She beat out the dust from the throw rugs in the sitting room and dusted the pictures on the wall. And when Apple Bloom came home from school, Applejack had a plate of fresh-sliced cortland apples at the kitchen table waiting for her. It seemed hugely important to get the farmhouse running smooth, so that at least something felt right. It helped - by the time the bathtub sparkled cleanly and the windows all had their storm screens in place, Applejack no longer felt like the world was ending. When Mac came in from the fields, Applejack set down her pipe wrench and helped Apple Bloom throw together an upside-down cake.

Halfway through the recipe, Apple Bloom accidentally splashed batter onto Applejack's face. She flicked a bit into 'Bloom's hair and soon enough the two of them were wrestling on the kitchen floor, brandishing dirty spatulas and laughing like madponies. The cake turned out delicious, and the extra fifteen minutes of cleanup flew by.

After a long and joyful dinner together, Applejack sat and watched the fire burn down. Apple Bloom coughed quietly to catch her attention. Her hair was brushed, her teeth looked white and shiny, and she was looking at Applejack with the biggest puppy-dog eyes ever. Applejack chuckled and followed Apple Bloom up to her room and smoothed down her sheets once she’d gotten settled.

Applejack sat down at her bedside. “So you wanna hear about the Giant Ponies?” Apple Bloom nodded eagerly. “Alright. Well, way back a long time ago, ‘roundabouts the same time the Princesses came to power, all sorts of strange stories were coming out of the Macintosh Hills. Ponies were finding hoofprints the size of a house, entire groves of trees would have their tops go missing, almost like they were bein’ grazed... but nopony knew for the life of them where anything large enough to do those things would hide …” Apple Bloom listened in rapt silence, her eyes sparkling as each detail fell into place for the umpteenth time. And Applejack knew she was home.

Things fell into a steady rhythm; the same one Applejack had followed since she’d taken charge of the farm. Out at sunrise, in for lunch, out ‘till supper. On the third day, as she walked back in at noon, she found Fluttershy waiting on the porch steps.

“Hi,” Fluttershy squeaked.

“Hi yourself.”

“C-can we talk?” Applejack walked slowly over to a nearby tree and settled down. Fluttershy sat a foot away from her, stiff as a board.

“So, then,” Applejack said, shifting. “How’re you doing?”

“Alright, I guess.” Fluttershy shuffled her wings. “Applejack, I’m sorry,” she blurted out, her eyes squeezed shut. “Not just for the things I said when we were fighting, but for everything lately. I just got so used to you being there for me, I just got so used to you doing things for me that I started expecting it. And that wasn’t fair of me.” A panicked edge wormed into Fluttershy’s voice as words tumbled out of her mouth. “I know that I hurt you, and I’m sorry for that. I can’t say anything else, but I’m so, so sorry, and I’ve been such a horrible pony, and --”

“Fluttershy.” Fluttershy stopped immediately. “It’s not all on you, alright? I know I shoulda trusted you more with my feelings. I shoulda taken the time to spell out what I was feelin’ instead of expectin’ you to read me like one of your patients. So I’ll accept your apology if you’ll accept mine?”

Fluttershy paused and nodded. “Where does this leave us?” she asked, her voice a tiny, fragile thing.

Applejack smiled and scooched a little bit closer. “Reckon it leaves us in a better place, sugarcube.” Even though she was painfully aware of the space between them, Applejack felt at ease around Fluttershy, felt relaxed. And when Fluttershy left to make her own lunch, Applejack started missing her the moment she moved out of sight.

Something was sizzling as Applejack woke the next morning. She trotted downstairs to the kitchen. Fluttershy waved her in with a slightly ruffled wing. “Good morning, Applejack. Would you like some coffee?”

Applejack blinked and stared at the stovetop percolator, already bubbling away. She nodded dumbly and poured herself a mug. She took a burning mouthful: Dark, bitter, and gritty, just the way she loved it. “Good coffee,” she allowed, taking another sip.

Fluttershy flipped over some hash browns and smiled. “Thanks.”

Applejack felt more awake as the second sip warmed her stomach. “Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here?”

“Making breakfast. How do you want your eggs?”

“Over easy… Why are you making breakfast?”

Fluttershy shrugged and smiled as Big Mac walked into the room. “Morning, Mac. Coffee’s in the pot.” He grunted happily and shuffled over to grab a mug for himself. Fluttershy cracked two eggs into a skillet , flipping them at just the right time and loading them onto a plate for Applejack. Applejack broke each of them onto a piece of toast and watched the yolk seep in. Perfect.

Fluttershy offered everypony else the same eggs-to-order and sat herself next to Applejack but too far away to touch. “What are you working on today?” she asked around a mouthful of scramble.

“Planning on winterizing the saplings this morning,” Applejack answered, finishing her second cup of coffee.

Fluttershy nodded. “May I help?”

Fluttershy was pretty handy with wrappings and tape. It made sense, considering how many animals she patched up, but it was still a wonder to see when it meant that this year’s transplants would make it through the winter. By the end of the first hour, the two of them were a well-oiled machine, passing the tree wrappings smoothly to each other around the trunk, cutting off and taping at the right times, practically reading each others’ minds from time to time.

By the second hour, Applejack was truly enjoying herself. Her hooves were filled with helium, and each new tree seemed more like a gift than an extra chore. And Fluttershy … Fluttershy was a wonder to behold. She moved with the grace of a dancer, smiled like the sun, and knew just where to be and when. A sly, off-center smile made its way onto her face. It seemed private, almost, that smile. Applejack had never seen it before, but it felt like it was meant for her. And the silence … Fluttershy had shown her how many kinds of silence and stillness there could be, and this silence, this warm, comfortable silence melted away minutes, easily. Fluttershy ducked her head for a moment when they ran out of tree wrap.

“Applejack, you remember the dragon?”

Applejack stepped closer, cautiously. “Yeah. ‘Course I do.”

Fluttershy nodded slowly. “You helped me climb the mountain. You saw I was scared and you found another way. And that whole time, I felt like it was alright to be frightened. I felt like it was okay to freeze up, because you were with me and you’d find a way to get me where I needed to go.” Applejack waited for Fluttershy to continue. She was a lot like Mac - she wouldn’t say anything that didn’t need to be said.

“But I also knew that you believed I was a strong pony, Applejack. I knew that you were helping me get there because you believed that once I was there, I’d find the strength to do what I had to. And you were right. But … sometimes, lately, it’s felt like you don’t think that anymore. That you don’t think I’m as strong as I think I am. And I know you’re probably just trying to be nice, but it still feels like you don’t expect me to be my best.”

Applejack nodded. “So tell me next time,” she said, resting her hoof gently on Fluttershy’s shoulder. “Tell me to back off and I will, alright?” Fluttershy nodded and glanced at the angle of the sun.

“I should probably go,” she half-apologized. “Belinda’s painkillers are about to wear off.” She folded Applejack into a warm hug and nuzzled her lightly before stepping off down the road.

Fluttershy was back the next morning, after breakfast this time. She offered to help with harvesting, flying through the treetops the way she had two cider seasons ago. A playful competition started between the two of them, egging each other on with smiles and smirks, chasing each other row by row. They got the last Cripps off their branches before Fluttershy needed to head off again.

“‘Shy, you wanna swing by for dinner tonight?” Applejack’s heart did flips when Fluttershy nodded, and she did another three hours-worth of work before heading inside to make a dinner worth sharing.

Applejack had brushed her hair to a fine sheen and cleaned the worst of the field dirt from her hooves. When Fluttershy knocked on her door, she scrambled to open it and tried her best to look suave and unhurried after the fact.

Fluttershy giggled. “You look nice.”

Applejack looked her over. “So do you,” she countered.

Fluttershy giggled again. “I didn’t do anything different, though.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow, “...And?” She dodged Fluttershy’s playful wing-swat and led her into the dining room.

Applejack hadn’t gone so far as to fold the napkins fancy, but the company china was out on the table instead of the usual chipped stoneware. A whole spread, from soups and salads to turnovers and fritters, covered the table. Applejack made a huge deal of serving each dish, winking as she botched tricks with ladles she’d seen in Manehattan and generally made a fool out of herself. As much as her odd theatrics left Apple Bloom embarrassed and Mac confused, it was worth it to hear Fluttershy’s laughter.

Fluttershy had helped her with the dishes, comfortably close. After they dried and put away the last platter, Applejack followed her impulses and kissed Fluttershy on the cheek.

“May I walk you home?” she asked, looking straight into Fluttershy’s eyes and willing, hoping that her intentions would come across.

Fluttershy scuffed the floor and Applejack prepared to get a timid earful about boundaries. “Umm… May I stay here tonight?” Fluttershy asked, and Applejack found herself nodding emphatically.

They excused themselves to Applejack’s bedroom and cuddled up against each other happily, silent for some time.

“I forgot how wonderful your family is, Applejack,” Fluttershy murmured, tucking her head beneath Applejack’s chin.

Applejack kissed her forehead. “I think I did too, for a little bit,” she murmured back, holding Fluttershy a little bit tighter. “Would you like to … maybe spend more time here?” Applejack swallowed nervously as silence followed, but she breathed, relaxed … It was good silence. It was thinking silence.

“I might,” Fluttershy finally said. “But there’s a clinic I still need to run.”

“Of course there is.” Applejack grinned. “We got a lot of old buildings lying around, though. It would be pretty easy to convert one into a hospital.”

Fluttershy smiled and nuzzled at her tenderly. “I’ll keep that in mind, Applejack. But, for right now?” She kissed Applejack, draping herself comfortably across Applejack’s strong chest. “For right now, I think this is enough.”

Author's Note

So this is apparently the end of the first longform story I ever wrote. Many thanks again to Lion for making me get up off my metaphorical ass and make this story happen. Thanks for reading and stuff, and expect edits when I'm not trying to make a deadline.