Mutual Attractionsby Thrawn1800ChaptersChapter 2: Fan-mares and PieChapter 3: Let the Games BeginChapter 4: To Share a DayChapter 1: Train Seats Are Evil, Mares Are CreepyChapter 2: Fan-mares and PieChapter 2 The next morning, Braeburn was woken by the rooster’s incessant crowing. Groaning, sore from the previous two days of travelling, he forced himself out of bed. Normally, he had no problem with getting up early. But today, he wanted nothing more than to stay right there in its warm embrace. After eating a quick bowl of oats, he joined Applejack and Big Macintosh in the orchards. It was a nice day; the sun was shining brightly down from an azure sky, and there were only a few clouds in sight. He took a deep breath, relishing the cool morning air, even if he missed the desert mornings of Appleoosa. The worked hard for a good while. They fell into a rhythm, shared between the three applebucking ponies. Since applebucking required very little intelligent concentration, he had plenty of time to think further on the dilemma of the date. As he thought on it, he developed a sort of back-and-forth with himself. Why don’t I get along with any of these mares? I mean, I try to be nice! But somehow, it always ends in disaster, and I probably hurt their feelings. Well, maybe I’m not trying hard enough? There’s got to be some way I can improve. That can’t be it, though. I’ve done things plenty of other stallions wouldn’t do. Like that one time- Yeah, but still- And then, there’s the fact that I’m a bit toocomfortable around mares. I mean, when it’s a group or something, all the other stallions are tongue-tied, but I just waltz on through. It could just be that I’m a bit more social than most ponies in Appleoosa. I do like meeting new ponies. Yeah, but I doget tongue-tied around other stallions. Like when Red Delicious came to visit. Well, it could all just be a male rivalry thing. That’s true. But it could also mean… NO. I just need to get to know these mares better before I quit, that’s all. I’m not like that. If you won’t listen to yourself, what am I supposed to do... Lining himself up with his umpteenth apple tree, he bucked it as hard as possible. He heard the immensely satisfactory sound of the apples falling from the tree into the buckets he’d placed around the base of the tree. He turned, looking up and checking to make sure he’d gotten all of them. Having confirmed this, he put one of them on his back, and started carrying it to the wagon. “How you doin’ cous’?” asked Applejack, meeting him with a bucket of her own. “Ah’m fine.” he said, putting his on the wagon, and sliding it up against the other buckets full of shiny red apples. “That’s good.” She followed him back to the tree he’d just bucked, where she also picked up a bucket. Together, they loaded the rest of them into the wagon. “Big Mac!” called Applejack, looking around for her brother. She didn’t find him, so she turned to Braeburn. “You think we can move this if we work together?” Braeburn sized up the wagon. It was fully loaded with apples, and it was sure to be heavy. “We can certainly try.” Together, the two of them managed to get the wagon back to the barn. It was slow going, as even together they were barely strong enough to move it. When they got it there, they began unloading the fruit. Storing it in the barn, they returned to the orchard. After several more hours of following the same pattern- bucking, loading, moving the wagon, and unloading- they called it a day. As it was a bit early in the season, not all of the apples had finished ripening, so there wasn’t quite as much to do yet. “You should go get ready.” suggested Applejack, wiping the sweat off of her brow and admiring the day’s work. “What for?” asked Braeburn. Not that I don’t know. “Yer date with Rainbow Dash.” “Oh. Alright.” Told you so. Braeburn showered, and did his best to make himself presentable. He didn’t expect the night to go well, but he should at least try, right? After running a comb through his long mane, he put his hat back on, and went to find Applejack. He found her on the porch, talking to a cyan pegasus mare, whose mane was an array of vibrant rainbow colors. Spotting him, she threw him a cocky smile. “Hey there, Brae.” she said, strutting over to him. “Ready for our evening out?” “Sure thing.” he said. “What did you have in mind?” “I got us tickets to a Wonderbolts Show!” she said, holding up two paper rectangles. “I bet you’ve never been to one before.” “Can’t say that ah have.” “It’ll be fun. And don’t worry, the seats are on the ground.” “Okay.” “Come on!” She started pulling him towards wherever her destination was, thudding down the porch stairs. He’d had mares dragging him around before, and he sighed mentally. Again? “You two have fun!” Applejack called after them. “Try not to be back too late, ya hear?” “Will do, A.J.!” “Ah can walk!” he said, dislodging himself. “Sorry.” she said, her cheeks blushing red. “Let’s hurry, so we can get good seats!” She led him through town, pestering him with questions about himself. He patiently answered them, having heard them all before. They soon reached a large gorge, which had been lined with seats like the ones you find at a stadium. They gave their tickets to the large pony who was waiting at the gate, who let them through. She led him to the front row of seats, which still had a few empty spots left. Being the good gentlecolt he was, he let her through first. He sat next to her, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. When will it end? She started rambling on about all the Wonderbolts, and he politely attempted to listen, if not understand. For the next few minutes, they waited as the remaining seats filled up. He’d never had a problem with crowds, so the ever-growing noise didn’t bother him. He looked around the makeshift stadium, watching the ponies filing in. As the sun approached the horizon, a sudden hush fell over the crowd. Braeburn looked around for the reason, and three pegasi, smoke trails accompanying, zoomed by overhead at tremendous speeds. He watched as they looped up and over, and the show began. ______________________________________________________________________________ When the show was over, Soarin landed just outside the exit from the stands. He took a deep breath, trying to collect himself and prepare for the coming flood of fan-ponies. He’d been a bit off during the whole performance, since he’d had a hard time sleeping the previous night. Gracefully, Spitfire landed next to him. “You alright?” she asked. “You’ve been a bit off all day.” Took the words right out of my mind. “I’m fine.” he lied. “Just a bit tired.” “Well, there’s only a few more shows left in the season.” “Yeah.” In front of them, the crowds were finally released from the stands. “Here they come.” The next half hour was full of autographs, pictures, and short conversations. Normally, Soarin would’ve enjoyed this, but today it was dull, and felt drawn out. Ponies asking the same questions over and over again, picture after picture after picture after- “Soarin!” “Huh?” he said, looking up from the ten-millionth picture he’d signed that night. “It’s me!” said a cyan mare, her rainbow mane distinctly visible through the crowd. “Rainbow Dash!” He brightened up slightly. “Hey! How are you?” “I’m great.” she said, beaming as she fought past the last pony in her way. “That last trick was really something!” “Thanks.” he said. “I-” His attention was caught as a yellow stallion emerged from the crowd. He had a long golden mane, and green eyes like Soarin’s. He wore a brown cowpony hat and vest, and his cutie mark was a simple red apple. “Who’s that?” Soarin asked, pointing out the stallion. “Who?” Rainbow Dash turned around, following the direction of Soarin’s hoof. “Oh! Braeburn!” “Somepony call me?” said the stallion, walking over to the two pegasi. “Braeburn, this is Soarin!” said Rainbow Dash. “Nice to meet ya.” said Braeburn. The two stallion shook hooves. “So yer the Soarin Rainbow’s been goin’ on and on about.” “Probably.” said Soarin, who couldn’t seem to look away from Braeburn. “Can’t think of any other stallions with the name she’d go all fan-mare on.” Braeburn laughed, the sound managing to cut through some of the depressed cloud that was surrounding Soarin’s mind. “Ain’t that the truth?” “Hey, Soarin?” said Rainbow Dash. “Where’s Spitfire?” “Over there.” he said, pointing towards where his teammate was in conversation with several other ponies. Unlike him, Spitfire seemed to be enjoying herself, as usual. “Thanks.” Rainbow Dash ran over, and the two struck up a friendly conversation. “So, Braeburn.” Soarin said, returning his attention to the stallion that intrigued him so. “Where do you live?” “Ah’m from Appleoosa.” said Braeburn proudly. “Ah was one of the original settlers!” “Really?” “Sure am! We had a bit of a spat with the buffalo over our apple orchard, but everything’s fine now.” “What happened?” Braeburn raised an eyebrow. “You sure seem awfully interested in me for a Wonderbolt.” “You seem like a nice guy. If you got Rainbow Dash’s attention, she must’ve liked you.” “You two know each other well?” Soarin nodded. “She helped me get my place on the Cloudsdale’s team for the Equestria Games back.” “What happened?” Soarin grinned. “You seem awfully interested in me for an Earth Pony from a frontier town.” “Fair enough.” After a moment of awkward silence, an idea came to Soarin. “Say, Braeburn?” “Yes?” “Would you like to hang out tomorrow? Our next show isn’t for a few days.” “That sounds like a good idea.” Braeburn glanced around. “This isn’t exactly the best place ta have an extended conversation, now is it?” “Not really.” “So, where should we meet? Do you know where Sweet Apple Acres is?” Soarin thought for a moment. “The big red farmhouse?” “Surrounded by apple trees.” Soarin nodded. “Yeah, I saw it earlier when we flew in.” “Ah’m stayin’ there with mah cousins.” “Cool. When should I come?” “We’ll be applebuckin’ most of the day,” said Braeburn, “so it’ll have ta be later, in the evening.” “Does seven sound alright?” “That should be fine.” Braeburn glanced over towards where Rainbow Dash was. “Er… Soarin?” “Yes?” “How do you… get rid of a mare?” Soarin glanced over at Rainbow Dash. “You don’t like her?” “She’s a nice mare, but I don’t really want to date her.” He sighed. “Applejack set it up for me.” “Who?” “Mah cousin. Mah family’s always settin’ me up on dates. I’ve never even had the chance to do the askin’, what with all of ‘em choosin’ themselves as mah personal matchmaker.” “That bad, huh?” Soarin looked back at Rainbow Dash, who was grinning happily. “Well, I wouldn’t worry about Rainbow getting too upset. From what I’ve seen, she’s not really all that big on dating, anyway.” “Thanks.” Braeburn started towards Rainbow Dash. “See ya tomorrow evenin’.” Soarin watched him go, sighing to himself. Then he shook his head. What am I doing? I can’t crush on a… a stallion! He looked down at his hooves. Can I? He seems really nice. He growled at himself, stopping the train of thought in its metaphorical tracks. I like mares! I just went through an intense show, after barely getting any sleep. I just need to go to bed. ______________________________________________________________________________ Braeburn walked Rainbow Dash back to her house, which was on the edge of town. And about fifty feet up. “Rainbow Dash?” he said nervously. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” “Sure.” she said. “What is it?” “Well… you’re a nice mare…” he said, avoiding her eyes. “But… I don’t think this is gonna really work.” “Why?” she asked, looking a bit hurt. “Did I do something?” “No, no. I just… don’t really think of you like that. Yer just… a friend.” He braced himself, waiting for her to do her worst. “Okay.” “What?” He looked up, surprised. Soarin had been right. “It’s okay.” she said happily. “I guess I kind’ve got carried away. I’m not really that into dating anyway.” “So… we’re good?” “Yes.” She smiled cockily. “Besides, dating a stallion would tie me down!” “Well, good night to ya.” “Good night.” Without further ado, she flew up to her house. Braeburn waited a moment, then he began the long journey back to Sweet Apple Acres. He thought about what he had planned for the next day. Soarin had said seven. He felt confident he’d be free by then, considering how long they’d been working in the orchards today. When he’d reached the farm, he took a moment to steel himself. When he felt ready, he entered. “How’d it go?” asked Applejack, who appeared with unnaturally speed and stealth. “You two have a good time?” “It went alright.” he said, avoiding her eyes. “Brae… did you…?” “Yes.” he said flatly. “Ah did. And ah’ll thank you ta let me decide who ah date from now on.” He started for his room, exhausted by the days events. “Did she get upset?” asked Applejack, following him. “No. She was fine.” “Well, at least there’s that much.” “Now, if you don’t mind, ah’m going ta bed.” “Good night Braeburn.” “‘Night Applejack.” He went to his room, and crashed on his bed. He sighed, realizing how uncomfortable it would be to sleep in his vest and hat. He tossed his hat onto the bedside table, and wriggled out of his vest, which he just shoved over the cliff that was the side of the bed. Pulling the covers over him, he forced his body to relax. He took a moment to think back on the day. Soarin. He seemed like an interesting pony. And Braeburn had found himself… liking him? He covered his face with his hoofs, groaning. I can’t like stallions. But do you? N-No. I c-can’t. But do you? I don’t know. He sighed loudly. Why does it have to be so difficult? ______________________________________________________________________________ When the crowds finally cleared away, it was nearly midnight. They returned to their hotel, where Soarin was more than happy to remove his flight suit and collapse onto his bed. His blissful attempt at relaxation was foiled when Spitfire followed him into the room. “Yes?” he asked, burying his face into the soft pillow. “Soarin, Wave and I are going to go grab a bite to eat.” she said. “You want to come?” “Fine.” His voice was muffled by the pillow. He forced himself upright. “I’m coming.” He followed her out, where was his teammate Wave Chill waiting. About Soarin’s height, he had a blue coat and a mane that was a similar hue to Soarin’s, if a bit less messy. In keeping with the trend, he had dark blue eyes. “Where are we going?” he asked, as they exited the hotel. “I heard about this place earlier.” said Wave, who looked as glad to be free of his flight suit as Soarin felt. “Sugarcube Corner.” “Sounds like it’s worth checking out.” said Soarin. “Spit?” “Sure.” she said. “Why not?” They found it near a large fountain. When they walked inside, the first thing Soarin noticed was the smell. It smelled like every kind of delicious that a bakery should. They walked over to the counter, where they were greeted by a shorter mare, whose mane was done in a creative swirling pattern. “What can I get for you, dears?” she asked, in a motherly tone. She seemed unfazed by the presence of three Wonderbolts. “What do you have?” asked Wave, leaning down and looking into the glass case. “Oh, all sorts of things.” “Hmm…” said Spitfire “I’d like to try that.” She pointed out a tray, which held several smaller loaves of a reddish bread. Wave pointed out a stack of fresh pretzels. “Those look good. I think I’ll have one of those.” “Can I have a slice of pie?” asked Soarin, pointing one out. Apple, of course. “Sure thing, dears.” said the mare. She quickly gathered up their orders, and put them on top of the counter. After they’d paid her, they took a seat at one of the booths. Soarin dug in immediately. Nothing got between him and pie. Not that it was an obsession, like Spitfire made it out to be. He just enjoyed the taste. Kind of like how Spitfire couldn’t resist a Root beer Float. Why that, he had no idea. Pie was definitely better, with its crumbly crust and deliciously sweet and tart fillings. Besides, it went just as well with ice cream as Root beer. “That a good one?” asked Wave, looking up from his pretzel. Soarin was sort of an authority, since he always sampled apple pies, so the others always asked what he thought. “It’s good.” he said. “Not as good as the one from the gala, though.” He sighed. “I never did get that mare’s name.” “Oh well.” said Spitfire, chuckling. “You eat pie often enough, you’ll probably find her again.” “That’s not what I meant.” he said, seeing how she’d taken it. “I just wish I could get another one of those…” He licked his lips. “Delicious pies.” And besides, I don’t even like mares. I like- Shut up, me. Rule one of insanity, talking to yourself. Ha! I’m not talking, I’m thinking. You got me there. Or rather, you got you there. Or is it- Zip it. Okay. It still bothered him, though. Did he like mares? Or… did he like stallions? When they returned to the hotel, he made a beeline for his bed. This time, no one stopped him, and he took refuge under the covers. He discovered, however, that he again lacked that key ability one required to properly use a bed. Sleep. He tossed and turned for hours. Should I feel this way? What would happen if I- No! Not happening. He tried counting sheep, which didn’t work. He tried impromptu meditation. Nothing. And that stallion I met earlier, Braeburn. Could he ever like me? Do… do I like him? Shut up! Needless to say, it was a long, long night. Chapter 3: Let the Games BeginChapter 3 It was morning again, and Braeburn felt decidedly better than he had the previous morning. Today, the rooster’s crowing was bearable, and his bed didn’t cling at his mind as much. Pushing himself up, he stretched out his sleep-stiffened limbs, and jumped off of the bed. He straightened his covers, and grabbing his hat and vest, proceeded to the bathroom. After running a comb through his tangled mane and tail, he went downstairs. He found the three siblings and Granny Smith still eating breakfast. He served himself a bowl of steaming oats, then took a seat on the side of the table between Big Macintosh and Granny Smith. Opposite him, Applejack sat next to Applebloom, who was talking happily about her plans for later in the day. Thankfully, there was no mention nor hint (yet, anyway) of any plans to cook, bake, boil, broil, stew, stir, or otherwise concoct anything of the edible *cough* nature. “Ya sleep well Brae?” asked Applejack cheerfully, looking across the table at him with an expression that seemed friendly enough. I hope that means she’s not upset with me about last night. “Yep.” he said. “That bed sure beats sleeping on the train.” “It certainly does.” The rest of the meal proceeded in relative quiet, with the exception of an occasional burst of conversation. Once he’d finished, Braeburn cleaned his bowl and put it away. He waited for a moment, then decided he might as well get started on the day’s work. He stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the fresh, cool air. As always, the breeze carried the faint scent of apples upon its invisible currents. He went to the barn, and pulled open the doors. With great difficulty, he managed to get the wagon outside of the barn. He loaded it up with empty wooden buckets, getting it ready for Big Macintosh to pull out into the orchard. The older two siblings soon joined him, assisting in preparing for the day’s work. “Yer certainly into it today.” said Applejack. “Ya got out here faster than either of us.” “Ah feel better than ah did yesterday.” he said, placing the last of the buckets in the wagon. “That’s nice to hear.” said Applejack, helping Big Mac hitch himself to the wagon. Big Mac nodded in thanks when she’d finished, then started pulling the wagon out into the orchard. He did so without any apparent effort, a demonstration of his untold strength. “You think we’ll be done by seven?” asked Braeburn, as he and Applejack followed after the red stallion. “Ah think so.” said Applejack. “There still aren’t many apples that are ready. We may even finish sooner that, maybe five.” She raised an eyebrow. “Why?” “Ah’m gonna meet up with someone ah met yesterday. Said ah’d be free by then.” “Who is it?” she grinned smugly. “It’s a mare, isn’t it?” “Actually-” “If that’s why ya turned down Rainbow Dash, ya could’ve just said so.” she continued, ignoring his attempt to correct her. “Ah’m just glad yer expandin’ yer horizons.” Like I ever had the chance to find a mare by myself. “Where are you taking this mysterious mare?” asked Applejack. “I don’t know.” said Braeburn. He didn’t even bother trying to tell her who he was really meeting. She’d never give him a chance to get a word edgewise now anyway. And besides, it wasn’t totally a lie. He didn’t actually know where he and Soarin were going to go. “There’s plenty of fancy restaurants here in Ponyville, if she’s that type. And if she’s a bit more on the casual side, there’s always Sugarcube Corner.” “Thanks, cous’.” he said. “Ah’ll think on that.” Definitely casual. “Yer welcome.” Big Mac brought the wagon to a stop in the middle of a patch of trees, whose apples were definitely ripe, all of them shiny and bright red. The three ponies fell back into the rhythm they’d been in the day before, the work day flowing by. ______________________________________________________________________________ Soarin’s morning wasn’t nearly as pleasant. When he got up, he had to shower and eat as quickly as possible so the team could make it to a press conference at town hall. He was exhausted, having barely slept the previous night. He was to tired to even argue when Spitfire exaggerated his pie cravings as an obsession, in front of a room full of camera ponies and reporters. When that was over, they had just enough time for a short lunch, before heading off to practice for a while at the gorge where they’d done their show. “Soarin!” shouted Spitfire, startling him. He’d dozed off, and missed his cue to take off. “What is up with you?” “I’m sorry.” he said, yawning and wiping a line of drool off of his chin. “I couldn’t sleep last night.” “Well, you’re no use to me if you’re going to be falling asleep during practice. Go and take a nap.” “Thanks, Spit.” he said, dragging himself into a standing position. “If you wake up in time, come back and join us, alright?” “Will do.” He returned to their hotel, avoiding several news ponies on the way. He flopped down on his bed, and this time, had no problem falling asleep, helped along by sheer exhaustion. When he woke up, the bedside clock said it was 4 o’clock. He shoved himself upright, stretching out his wings. He felt a good deal better than he had that morning. He forced himself to stand; he might still had time to join in the remainder of the practice. He flew back to where they’d been practicing, but they were already gone. He flew over Ponyville, looking for something to do with himself. An answer quickly presented itself when he spotted a pegasus with a camera, following him surreptitiously in the distance. Soarin tilted his wings, sending himself into a steep climb. The camera pony followed him, so Soarin slowed, letting them get closer. Then he dove sharply, leaving his follower far behind. Unfortunately, he dived straight into a whole crowd of camera ponies and reporters. He increased his speed, until he was just a blue streak to a pony standing on the ground. He flew west over Ponyville, desperate to get away. ______________________________________________________________________________ Braeburn was just finishing up on another tree, when he heard a loud thud behind him. He whirled around, to see Soarin, who had just landed at high speeds. “Hide me!” Soarin panted, looking around frantically. “In the tree!” said Braeburn, who could now see why Soarin looked so panicked. A large group of camera-wielding pegasi was approaching at high speeds. Soarin flew up into the tree, hiding among the branches. When the pegasi landed, Braeburn had returned to bucking the trees. He was glad that the tree Soarin was hiding in had already been taken care off. “Have you seen Soarin?” asked the lead pony excitedly. “Who?” asked Braeburn, not looking at them. He hooked himself up to his cart, and started pulling it towards the next group of trees. “Soarin. The Wonderbolt.” “Never heard of him. He some sort of singer?” “Er… never mind.” Braeburn waited until he was sure they were gone, before returning to the tree where Soarin was hiding. He tapped the trunk lightly with a hoof. “They’re gone.” he said. “Ya can come down now.” “Thanks.” said Soarin, dropping down to the ground. “Yer a bit early.” Braeburn looked up at the sun. “It’s only four-ish.” “Sorry. Didn’t really think about where I was going.” “Well, if yer here,” said Braeburn, turning back to his work, “ya might as well hang around. Ah’m almost done anyway.” “Okay.” Soarin sat, and watched as Braeburn walked up to the next tree in line. He turned away from it, then with his front hooves firmly planted on the ground, he bucked the tree. It shook, and apples fell from the branches, landing in the buckets placed in a circle around the tree. Braeburn started collecting these, carrying them on his back to the cart. Soarin watched him do this several more times, growing steadily more bored. When it was finally too much, he stood, and started helping Braeburn carry the latest group to the cart. “Ya don’t need to do that.” said Braeburn. “Ah can handle it.” “It’s no problem.” said Soarin. “And besides, if I don’t do something, I’ll go insane from boredom.” Braeburn shrugged, and let him get on with it. When they’d finished with one section, they moved on to the next. They continued for about an hour, until he’d determined that they’d covered enough of the orchard for the day. He pulled his cart back to the barn, parking it alongside the other cart and the large wagon. “Ah’ll go clean up.” said Braeburn, who was considerably more sweaty than Soarin. “Then we can go into town, get a bite to eat or something.” “Sounds good.” said Soarin. Braeburn walked into the farmhouse. As he was headed up the stairs, Applejack appeared at the top. “Done?” she asked, as he joined her on the landing. “Sorry we left, but Applebloom and her friends were up to something. “It’s fine.” said Braeburn. “Mah friend’s here a bit early, so I’m gonna clean up real quick then we’ll be off.” “I’d like to meet her.” Inside his mind, Braeburn sighed exasperatedly. “Not now. Maybe later.” She rolled her eyes. “Fine.” After he’d cleaned up, he rejoined Soarin outside. Soarin nodded in greeting, and by silent agreement they started down the path to the road. “So, Soarin.” said Braeburn. “What was that you were saying about the Equestria Games last night?” “Well, you see…” They walked together down the dirt path. Soarin explained how Spitfire, his co-captain, had convinced Rainbow Dash that he was too injured to compete in the qualifiers. Rainbow Dash had gotten caught up in the ‘coolness’ of competing with her heroes. But when she’d been given a choice between staying with her friends or joining the Cloudsdale team, she’d faked injury. She’d discovered Soarin’s injuries weren’t as bad as they’d been made out to be, and the two of them had confronted Spitfire. In the end, Rainbow Dash stayed with her friends, and Soarin got his spot on the Cloudsdale team back. “That wasn’t really nice of her.” said Braeburn. “Takin’ Rainbow Dash over you, just ‘cause she’s faster and younger.” Soarin nodded. “But enough about me. What happened in Appleoosa?” Braeburn told him about how the settlers and buffalo had fought over the land Appleoosa was built on, specifically the orchard. He explained how, when Applejack had come to visit, bringing an apple tree for the orchard, the buffalo had hijacked the train car carrying it. It had been difficult to get everyone to sit down and talk, but after the buffalo’s chief got a taste of apple pie, they’d come to an agreement. The settlers could stay where they were, as long as a small path was cut through the trees, and the buffalo got a share of the apple harvest. When he’d finished the story, they’d made it to Ponyville. “What’re ya hankerin’ for?” asked Braeburn. “I went somewhere last night.” said Soarin. “It’s called… Sugarcube Corner.” “Sugarcube Corner, eh?” Braeburn looked around, then pointed. “It’s that way.” ______________________________________________________________________________ Inside Sugarcube Corner, delicious smells wafted through the air. The two stallions’ mouths watered in response to the olfactory pleasures they were experiencing. There were several other ponies inside, all of them enjoying delicious desserts of all varieties. As they approached the counter, a pink mare with a ridiculously curly mane popped out from behind it. “Hey there!” she said happily, wide grin plastered across her muzzle. “What can I get you today?” “I’d like one of your apple fritters.” said Braeburn, pointing it out. “I’ll have a slice of your awesome apple pie.” said Soarin. He’d enjoyed the slice from the previous night so much, he found himself wanting more. “Coming right up!” said Pinkie. “Go ahead and take a seat!” “Thanks.” They found an empty table, and pulled out their seats. Pinkie came by shortly, carrying their requests. “That’ll be eight bits, please!” “Here you go.” said Soarin, handing her the money. She bounced over to the cash register, and deposited the coins inside. “Ah can pay for myself.” said Braeburn. “My treat.” said Soarin. “My way of saying thanks.” “You’re welcome.” They dug hungrily into their food. While Braeburn chewed his fritter carefully, Soarin just gobbled his pie down. Braeburn stared at him, eyebrow raised. “What?” said Soarin, through a mouthful of pie. “I’m hungry.” “Ah’ve been working in the orchards all day.” said Braeburn pointedly. Soarin swallowed before speaking again. “But I’m not as strong as you.” “Hmm.” After they’d eaten, they headed back out. They exchanged stories, Braeburn about the early days of Appleoosa, and Soarin about his experiences travelling with the Wonderbolts. As they chatted, the sun grew inexorably closer to the horizon, gathering the twilight colors about itself like blankets. “Look at the time.” said Braeburn, as they passed the clocktower. “Ah’d better head home.” “Alright then.” said Soarin. “This was fun. We should do it again.” “You busy tomorrow?” “Not really.” “Same time?” Soarin grinned. “See you then.” He watched Braeburn trot off towards Sweet Apple Acres, sighing contentedly. He’d had a good day, and hopefully, he’d be able to sleep better tonight. He made his way back to the hotel, moving quickly in an attempt to avoid drawing attention. “Where’d you go?” asked Spitfire, as he entered their section of the hotel. “You didn’t come back.” “I came back.” said Soarin, opening the door to his room. “But you guys were already gone. “We must’ve just missed each other.” said Spitfire. “We came right back here after we’d finished practicing.” Soarin grunted in acknowledgment. “Where’d you go after that?” asked Spitfire. “I hung out with a friend I made yesterday.” “What’s their name?” “Braeburn. Could you go now? I’d like to shower.” “Sure. Sleep well.” “I’ll try.” Spitfire left, and Soarin locked the door behind her. He went to the bathroom, and turned on the water. Once he was satisfied with the temperature, he stepped in. As the hot water washed through his fur and feathers, he grabbed a bottle of shampoo. After squirting some of the clear gel onto his hoof, he lathered up his mane and tail. Rinsing it out, he then repeated the process on his coat. He rinsed one last time, then he shut off the water. He dried off, and stepped back into the main room. He snuggled under the sheets, clutching the pillows with a hoof. Feeling oddly peaceful, he fell asleep quickly. ______________________________________________________________________________ When Braeburn got back to the farmhouse, he wasn’t surprised that Applejack was waiting for him. No doubt she wants to hear how it went. “So, how’d it go?” See? “Fine.” he said. “But, cous’-” “Ah really am glad yer finally found yerself a good fillyfriend.” she said, cutting him off as usual. “Ah can’t wait ta meet ‘er.” “Yeah.” said Braeburn half-heartedly. “Night, cous’.” “Night, Brae.” He clambered upstairs, and took a quick shower. Then he retreated to his room, burying himself under the blankets and nuzzling into his pillows. Sleep was soon his. Chapter 4: To Share a DayChapter 4 Soarin was woken up when the sun sent its rays through the window and across his closed eyes. He groaned, and flipped his pillow onto his head. He lay there, under the soft sheets, trying desperately to fall back asleep. Eventually, this proved to be completely futile. He sighed, and flung the pillow off his face and onto the ground. Tossing the sheets back, he sat up and yawned widely. He stepped down off the hotel bed, grunting as he hit the ground a bit harder than he’d been prepared too. He walked to the bathroom, and flipped the light switch. The lights took a moment to respond, then they flickered on. He turned on the shower, and stepped under the water. Once he’d showered and brushed his teeth, he proceeded to the hotel’s cafeteria. Spitfire was already there, looking a bit better rested than he felt at the moment. He grabbed some food, then joined her at the table. she smiled at him, and he nodded back. “How’d you sleep?” she asked. “You look better.” “I guess.” he said. “But I’m still a bit tired.” “I see. Feel up to a little practice?” “I guess. Can we take it easy, though? I want to have some energy left over for the show.” “Sure.” she grinned slightly. “But not too easy.” He sighed. “Of course not.” They went back to the gorge where they’d been practicing, somehow managing to get there without being caught by reporters or camera ponies. They started with some simple maneuvers, but Spitfire continually ramped up the difficulty of their flight patterns. She did keep her word though, and they didn’t do anything more strenuous than they could stand. When they’d finished, they proceeded back to the hotel. Once they’d eaten lunch, they had another set of interviews to sit through. It was just as exhausting as the one they’d attended the previous day. This time though, he was better rested, which made it easier for him to answer the reporter’s questions. And defend himself from blatant accusations of pie obsession by Spitfire. ___________________________________________ Braeburn bucked another tree, sending the apples raining down into the barrels he’d set around the tree. While he moved the barrels to the wagon, he thought about what he and Soarin would do that night. He wasn’t completely sure why it mattered to him so much. He just hoped that Applejack wouldn’t explode or anything when she found out that he wasn’t dating a mare, just hanging out with a friend. As he continued, he wondered why he cared so much anyway. After he’d finished the section of the orchard he was in, he hooked himself up to the cart and took it to the barn. He started unloading the cart, being careful not to bruise any apples. He heard someone knock on the barn door. He looked over his shoulder, to find Soarin leaning against the frame. He gave him a goofy grin, that made Braeburn’s stomach lurch. “What are you doin’ here?” he asked. “Y’all aren’t supposed ta come ‘til tonight.” “I finished up with training stuff for today.” said Soarin. “So… I thought I’d come early and help out.” “That’s real nice of ya. I’d tell ya ya don’t have to… but ya wouldn’ listen anyhow, would ya?” Soarin grin got wider. “Nope.” “Come on then.” Braeburn gestured at the barrels that were still sitting in the cart. “Help me get these here apples unloaded.” “Okay.” Together, they began unloading the barrels. Soarin wasn’t as strong as Braeburn, but his wings made it easier for him to get above the barrel. When Braeburn paused to wipe the sweat off of his brow, he found himself watching the blue pegasus. Soarin was intent on the work, concentrating solely on getting the apples out without damaging them. Braeburn was surprised that he was willing to do hard work like this, being a celebrity. But Soarin looked like he was actually having a good time, and when he saw Braeburn watching, he grinned. “What’re you up too?” “Just taking a quick break.” said Braeburn. He put his hat back on, then started lifting a barrel off of the wagon. It began to tilt over, but then he felt it get lighter. “Huh?” “I got it.” said Soarin. Together, they lowered it to the ground. “Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” Braeburn turned his head away, trying to suppress a blush. Soarin was only a few inches away from him right now, and that darned voice in his head wouldn’t shut up. Thankfully, Soarin backed up a little. “Thanks fer helping.” said Braeburn. “Ah appreciate it.” “It’s fine.” said Soarin. “It was fun.” Braeburn raised his eyebrow. Fun? “Okay.” Soarin nudged him playfully with a hoof. “So, you want to go hang out, get something to eat?” “Uh… sure. Just let me go’n let’em know I’m leavin’.” Soarin nodded, and followed him to the farmhouse porch. He sat on one of the chairs, and Braeburn went inside. He found Applejack in the kitchen. It looked like she’d finished her chores early. Applebloom was beside her, perched on a stool. They were looking down at a cookbook, which sent waves of foreboding through him. After making a mental note to check with Applejack whenever he wanted something to eat here, he cleared his throat. “Hey, AJ?” “Yeah?” she said, looking up. “I’m goin’ out with a friend. I’ll be back later tonight, ‘kay?” “Okay Brae. Er… who is it?” She grinned knowingly. “Is it her?” He rolled his eyes, then left. Outside, Soarin got up, grinning. Braeburn followed him down the dirt road. As they walked through Ponyville, they swapped stories. Soarin was easy for him to talk to, and he took full advantage. They took a turn down a side street, and Braeburn spotted a hayburger joint. He pointed it out, and Soarin agreed happily. “It’s been ages since I had a good burger.” he said enthusiastically. They walked into the restaurant, and up to the counter. Soarin was causing a bit of a stir, and they cashier pony was staring at him. “Hey, Braeburn?” Soarin said, leaning in. “Yeah?” “I forgot to wear a disguise, didn’t I?” “Sort of.” He nodded, and straightened up. He ordered a hayburger, as well as a bunch of fries. Braeburn ordered, and then they waited for their order. “Should we take it to go?” asked Soarin, whispering. They were still being watched, and Braeburn realized he must look very uncomfortable. And for good reason, because he was. “That’s probably a good idea.” he whispered back. The cashier came back to the counter, with a bag that contained their food. “Can we get these to go?” asked Soarin, addressing the cashier in a low voice. “O-of course, Mister Soarin, sir.” “Thank you.” he said, taking the bag from him. He subtly gestured at the door, and Braeburn followed him out. They went to the park, and pony-watched for a while. As they ate, they chatted. Not about anything important, just random stuff, stories they’d heard. After a few hours, Braeburn had to go. He didn’t want to, but he needed to get enough sleep tonight so he could get his work done the next day. “See you tomorrow?” asked Soarin hopefully. “Sure.” said Braeburn. “I’d like that. Thanks again fer helpin’ me out an’ everything.” “You’re welcome.” Braeburn shook his hoof, then headed towards Sweet Apple Acres. Soarin watched him go, then began to wend his way back to the hotel. When Soarin got there, he was smiling happily. Spitfire and Fleetfoot were chatting in the lobby. When Spitfire had spotted him, she got up and came over. “What’s got you so happy?” she asked, noticing his smile. It’d been a while since she’d seen him with a smile like that. “I don’t know.” he said. “It’s just been a nice day.” She smiled “Good. Hope you’re ready for Friday, then.” He nodded. He’d almost forgotten about their last show of the season. “Totally.” “Good. Make sure you get enough sleep tonight. I need you to be well rested for tomorrow’s practice.” He nodded again, then went to the hotel’s cafeteria. After he’d eaten dinner, he went to his room. It was late, so he showered and went to bed. He snuggled under his covers, and blacked out. ___________________________________________ Braeburn arrived home to the smell of rotten eggs and burnt toast. He covered his nose, took a deep breath, then walked in through the kitchen door. “Hello?” he called nervously. “I’m home.” “Hi!” said Applebloom, who was sitting at the table with Applejack. “Want a cookie?” She proffered a plate of perfectly normal looking chocolate chip cookies. He picked one up, and looked questioningly at Applejack. She had sweat on her face and her mane was a ruffled mess, but she nodded. Safe. He took a small bite out of the cookie, and hummed appreciatively. It was pretty good. “Do you like it?” “Yeah!” he said, taking another bite. “This is pretty good.” She grinned happily, and walked into the living room. Braeburn went over to Applejack, who was wiping the sweat off of her face with a handkerchief. “What did you do?” he asked. “I made sure she followed the recipe.” Braeburn nodded, then went upstairs to shower. When he laid down in his bed, he closed his eyes and sighed. He smiled as bits and pieces of the day resurfaced in his mind. Soarin helping him in the barn. The stories they’d told, both of long ago and not so far back. The clear breeze that had been blowing while they ate in the park. Soarin’s warm scent as he helped Braeburn lower that overly heavy barrel of apples. Wait a second… What?! He went back to that last thought. His… scent? Where had that come from. Against his will, he sighed as he remembered that smell. Like fresh air, intermingled with the faint smell of soap… and sweat. Why is this getting to me? I just noticed, that’s all. I don’t know why I stick around, if you’re so oblivious. Apparently, he just couldn’t leave himself alone. You can’t really go anywhere, you know. You’re sort’ve part of me. I know that. I was being sarcastic. No. Really? Yes, really. That was sarcasm too. I know that. Anyway, what’re you going to do about Soarin? You obviously like him. I do. But we’re friends. That’s all. Okay. That’s it? No arguments about whether or not I’m attracted to him? Nope. Braeburn sighed. His psyche was so weird. He curled up against the pillow, and let himself drift off. Chapter 1: Train Seats Are Evil, Mares Are CreepyChapter 1 Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack- The sound of the train’s wheels was ever present in Braeburn Apple’s ears. He leaned back in his seat, sighing to himself. The journey between Appleoosa and Ponyville took the better part of two days, and he was almost certain he’d go mad from boredom before he reached his destination. He rubbed the sides of his head in frustration, trying to relieve the tension. Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack- He took his brown cowpony hat off, setting it down on the seat next to him. He used both forehooves to rub the spots right above his ears, trying to relax. He’d been on this stupid train for weeks and weeks. Okay, days, but it felt a lot longer, the monotony and constant sound of the wheels was making him anxious for something to do. He should’ve listened and brought something along, like a book, or at least something to put his head on. The train’s seats were evil. Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack- He slumped over, lying across his seat and the empty one next to him. This helped a little, since he didn’t have to support his own weight anymore. The seats were still uncomfortable, but he was too tired to care how plush the red fabric was. He yawned widely, looking forward to going to bed once he reached Sweet Apple Acres. Why did it have to take so gosh darn long to get there? Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack,Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack,Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Hissssssssss- He heard the hiss of steam from the brakes, and felt a change in the train’s motion. His body tilted over slightly in the evil seats, as the train started to slow down. He forced himself to sit up, groaning as he stretched his stiff, sore limbs. His well toned muscles flexed under his yellow coat. He stood, rocking slightly on his hooves as the train came to a complete halt. He brushed his golden mane out of his eyes, put on his hat, then picked up his saddlebags and draped them over his strong back. He exited onto the platform, snorting as cold night air stung his sensitive nose, clouds of white vapor drifting out of his nostrils. “Braeburn!” called a voice, off to his left. He turned his head, and saw Applejack waving to him. She looked the same as always, completely plain except for the ponytail (pun intended) and her old, brown hat. “Hey cous’!” he said, going to meet her. Finally, somepony to talk to. “Howdy!” she said, wearing a mischievous grin. “And welcome to POOOOOONY-VILLE!” she shouted, rearing. “Ha ha.” he laughed sarcastically. “Yer never going to let me live that down, are you?” “Nope.” She embraced him warmly, and he returned the gesture. “Let’s get ya to Sweet Apple Acres.” she said, once they’d finished their hug. “You must be exhausted.” “That sounds real nice.” he said, following her down the steps that led off of the platform. “I couldn’t get a bunk on the sleeper car.” She grimaced sympathetically. “Thanks fer comin’ ta help us with the apple-buckin’.” “Yer welcome.” he said, as they proceeded towards the town, which they had to pass through in order to reach the farm. “You doin’ well?” she asked pleasantly. “Ah’m alright.” he said. “How’re things here?” “Well, Applebloom’s convinced her cutie mark has something to do with cookin’.” she said, shuddering slightly. “An’ Mac’s the same as ever.” “And you?” “Ah’m fine.” she said, sidestepping slightly as a brown stallion with a darker brown mane ran by. “You found yerself a marefriend yet?” She winked slyly. “No.” said Braeburn. “Not yet.” “Well, ya’d better get a move on.” she said. “Or all the good’uns ‘ll be taken.” He nodded absently. After a few more minutes of walking, Applejack cleared her throat. “Er, Braeburn?” she said. “I thought ya might like ta know, one of my friends… she’s taken a liking to ya.” Surprised, Braeburn turned his head to regard Applejack. “Who might that be?” he asked. Why can’t they just leave me alone? “Rainbow Dash. She asked me about you the other day, said you were-” She cleared her throat. “The most handsome stallion she’d ever met.” “High praise.” Braeburn knew about Rainbow Dash’s ‘coolness’ fixation, courtesy of the ongoing correspondence between himself and his cousin. High praise indeed. “Yeah.” Applejack looked up at the sky. “Thing is, ah don’t want one of mah friends gettin’ hurt. And yer family, which makes it even more difficult.” “Ah see. But what do you want me ta do about it?” This can’t end well. Applejack laughed nervously. “Well, see, I told her you were comin’ ta visit.” “And?” said Braeburn, stopping in anticipation of the answer. He’d been set up on so many dates by relatives, he’d gotten used to these conversations. Here it comes. Applejack stopped as well. “Ah kind’ve set you two up fer tomorrow evenin’.” Braeburn sighed, exasperated. “Ah can arrange dates fer myself, you know.” Seriously, I get set up so often, how am I supposed to find a mare that I actually like? “Ah know.” said Applejack, kicking out at a stone on the path. She sent it hurtling into the darkness. “But the family’s worried, see? We don’t want ya to be all alone fer the rest of yer life.” “I know.” He did indeed, as he’d heard those same words, or rather words to that effect, about fifty seven and a half times (and yes, he’d counted). Better chalk it up to fifty-eight and a half. Should I just round that half out? And do you round upor downin this situation? “Will ya go?” she asked. “It’d make her really happy if ya did.” He sighed again. “Fine.” Here we go again. “Thanks Brae.” she said, wrapping a hoof around his neck. “Yer welcome.” he said cheerfully, while privately he thought: I just hope it goes better than any of the other dates. They resumed their journey, and soon arrived at their destination. A tall red barn, nestled in the middle of a large clearing in the orchards. It was framed by the night sky, in which a multitude of twinkling stars were set. Braeburn sighed quietly, enjoying the natural beauty of the place. The smell of apples was rich and sweet, a preview of what awaited the next day. He opened the door for Applejack, who thanked him and stepped inside. He followed her in, shutting the door behind him. Inside, he was met by the pleasantly familiar sight of his Ponyville relatives. Applebloom was jabbering excitedly, Winona jumped up at him trying to lick his face, and Granny Smith was in a rocking chair on the far side of the room. Big Macintosh nodded in greeting, and Braeburn nodded back. “One at a time, please!” he shouted over the mix of voices and dog barks. They calmed down, and Braeburn took the opportunity to get Winona to sit still. As he gently rubbed her head, he turned to Applebloom. “How’re ya?” “Ah’m great!” she said excitedly. “Ah’ve been learnin’ ta cook!” “Is that so?” He saw Applejack flinch at the words. “Yeah! I whipped up a delicious apple tart earlier!” Everyone but Braeburn and Applebloom shuddered, including the dog. “Is there any left?” he asked. Applebloom shook her head. “All gone!” she pronounced happily. “It was so good, no one could keep their hooves off of it!” Braeburn glanced up at his other two cousins. Applejack had gone slightly green, and even Big Mac seemed to have had his usually perfect composure shaken by the… (cough) tart. Applejack’s face was slowly turning from light green to a dangerous shade reminiscent of pea soup. That bad, huh? “Oh well.” he said, faking disappointment. “Ah’ll just have to wait fer yer next culinary feat.” She nodded, and he redirected his attention to Granny Smith. Everyone else relaxed, having cleared the dangerous subject. “An’ yer lookin’ just as good as ever, Granny.” he said, walking over to her. “You betcha!” she said, taking his hoof gently for a moment in greeting. She smiled softly at the young stallion. “I’m as fit as a fiddle!” “Yes ma’am!” He said, yawning. “If ya don’t mind, ah’d love ta hit the hay. The train seats weren’t really all that comfortable.” “Sure thing.” said Applejack. “You can use the same room as last time.” “Thanks.” he said, making for the stairs. “See y’all in the morning!” “Night, cous’.” said Applebloom, waving. He smiled, and proceeded to the room he’d stayed in when he’d last been here. Stepping inside, he gently shut the door. Laying his saddlebags, vest, and hat down next to the bed, he collapsed into its soft embrace. He somehow managed to get under the cool covers, which were soothing after his long trip on the train. The quilt was old, and decorated with the apple motif that was on much of the furniture. He stared up at the ceiling, yawning again. Why can’t I find a marefriend? he asked himself. Maybe it’d help if I knew them instead of getting them thrown at me by my relatives. Putting these thoughts aside for another time, preferably one during which he wasn’t exhausted. He turned on his side and nuzzled into the pillow. Sleep found him quickly. ______________________________________________________________________________ “Good night to you!” shouted Spitfire over the cheering crowd. “Thanks for coming!” Soarin grinned at the roaring fans, following Spitfire and the other Wonderbolts off of the stage. They were greeted by yet another wave of roaring fans. He loved this part of the job, inspiring others to do better. That, and he enjoyed flying more than anything. He got a thrill out of his job, and he’d worked hard to get this far. What wasn’t to like? “Soarin!” shouted one mare. “Will you sign this?” “Certainly!” he said, taking a pen from her, and signing a picture of himself with a flourish. To an outside observer, it would’ve appeared a bit fancy for a stallion’s. “There you go!” “Thank you!” she said, trotting off into the milling crowd of ponies. “Hey, Soarin?” said another mare’s voice behind him. He turned to see who’d called his name, and felt an unexpected pressure on his lips. This mare was kissing him? He pushed her off of him, staring at her in shock. Her cheeks were red, as well as the tips of her ears. She had to be drunk, judging by her lack of balance. “Wanna come back to my apartment with me?” she asked, grinning and winking in a way that suggested she was thinking… naughty things. Soarin stepped back, panicking. “N-no thank you.” “You sure?” she asked, following him. “Big, strong pegasus stallion like you? We could make-” she traced a hoof down the neck of his suit, causing him to freak out even more. “Beautiful music.” He removed her hoof forcibly. “No.” he said insistently. When she didn’t leave him alone, he called for security. They had her removed, and the Wonderbolts began make their way back to their hotel through the crowds. “Hey, Soarin?” said Spitfire, noticing how abnormally silent her friend was. “You alright?” He didn’t answer, so she pushed further. “Don’t let that mare get to you.” she said. “It’s not worth your time.” “I-It’s not that.” he said quietly. He held back the torrent of thoughts that flooded against his mind. “Then what is it?” He didn’t answer. And though she pestered him the entire way back, he gave nothing further. When they arrived, he went straight to his room. He heard the door handle being rattled, but in anticipation of pursuit, he’d locked the door. He needed to be alone. “Soarin?” called Spitfire through the door. “You sure you’re alright?” “Yes.” he called back, trying to keep his voice level. And failed. “I-I’m going to bed early, that’s all.” “We were going to get something to eat.” “I’m not hungry.” That was a lie, and his stomach betrayed him with a loud grumble, protesting his statement. “You go on.” “If you’re sure.” she said. He listened to her retreating footsteps, then went to his bed. He curled up on it, not even bothering to remove his suit. He finally gave in to the suppressed thoughts. Why didn’t I feel anything? Sure, I don’t know her, but I should’ve felt something. It was just… weird. And… why have I never felt it for any of the mares I’ve met? He shuddered slightly, tightening his wings about himself. And, when I’m around other stallions… how come I feel… He cut off the thought. “N-No.” he whispered to himself. “I-I like mares. I-I’m just tired, that’s all.” After half an hour, he slipped into a daze. It took him several more hours to fully go to sleep, still dressed in his Wonderbolt suit.
Chapter 2: Fan-mares and PieChapter 2 The next morning, Braeburn was woken by the rooster’s incessant crowing. Groaning, sore from the previous two days of travelling, he forced himself out of bed. Normally, he had no problem with getting up early. But today, he wanted nothing more than to stay right there in its warm embrace. After eating a quick bowl of oats, he joined Applejack and Big Macintosh in the orchards. It was a nice day; the sun was shining brightly down from an azure sky, and there were only a few clouds in sight. He took a deep breath, relishing the cool morning air, even if he missed the desert mornings of Appleoosa. The worked hard for a good while. They fell into a rhythm, shared between the three applebucking ponies. Since applebucking required very little intelligent concentration, he had plenty of time to think further on the dilemma of the date. As he thought on it, he developed a sort of back-and-forth with himself. Why don’t I get along with any of these mares? I mean, I try to be nice! But somehow, it always ends in disaster, and I probably hurt their feelings. Well, maybe I’m not trying hard enough? There’s got to be some way I can improve. That can’t be it, though. I’ve done things plenty of other stallions wouldn’t do. Like that one time- Yeah, but still- And then, there’s the fact that I’m a bit toocomfortable around mares. I mean, when it’s a group or something, all the other stallions are tongue-tied, but I just waltz on through. It could just be that I’m a bit more social than most ponies in Appleoosa. I do like meeting new ponies. Yeah, but I doget tongue-tied around other stallions. Like when Red Delicious came to visit. Well, it could all just be a male rivalry thing. That’s true. But it could also mean… NO. I just need to get to know these mares better before I quit, that’s all. I’m not like that. If you won’t listen to yourself, what am I supposed to do... Lining himself up with his umpteenth apple tree, he bucked it as hard as possible. He heard the immensely satisfactory sound of the apples falling from the tree into the buckets he’d placed around the base of the tree. He turned, looking up and checking to make sure he’d gotten all of them. Having confirmed this, he put one of them on his back, and started carrying it to the wagon. “How you doin’ cous’?” asked Applejack, meeting him with a bucket of her own. “Ah’m fine.” he said, putting his on the wagon, and sliding it up against the other buckets full of shiny red apples. “That’s good.” She followed him back to the tree he’d just bucked, where she also picked up a bucket. Together, they loaded the rest of them into the wagon. “Big Mac!” called Applejack, looking around for her brother. She didn’t find him, so she turned to Braeburn. “You think we can move this if we work together?” Braeburn sized up the wagon. It was fully loaded with apples, and it was sure to be heavy. “We can certainly try.” Together, the two of them managed to get the wagon back to the barn. It was slow going, as even together they were barely strong enough to move it. When they got it there, they began unloading the fruit. Storing it in the barn, they returned to the orchard. After several more hours of following the same pattern- bucking, loading, moving the wagon, and unloading- they called it a day. As it was a bit early in the season, not all of the apples had finished ripening, so there wasn’t quite as much to do yet. “You should go get ready.” suggested Applejack, wiping the sweat off of her brow and admiring the day’s work. “What for?” asked Braeburn. Not that I don’t know. “Yer date with Rainbow Dash.” “Oh. Alright.” Told you so. Braeburn showered, and did his best to make himself presentable. He didn’t expect the night to go well, but he should at least try, right? After running a comb through his long mane, he put his hat back on, and went to find Applejack. He found her on the porch, talking to a cyan pegasus mare, whose mane was an array of vibrant rainbow colors. Spotting him, she threw him a cocky smile. “Hey there, Brae.” she said, strutting over to him. “Ready for our evening out?” “Sure thing.” he said. “What did you have in mind?” “I got us tickets to a Wonderbolts Show!” she said, holding up two paper rectangles. “I bet you’ve never been to one before.” “Can’t say that ah have.” “It’ll be fun. And don’t worry, the seats are on the ground.” “Okay.” “Come on!” She started pulling him towards wherever her destination was, thudding down the porch stairs. He’d had mares dragging him around before, and he sighed mentally. Again? “You two have fun!” Applejack called after them. “Try not to be back too late, ya hear?” “Will do, A.J.!” “Ah can walk!” he said, dislodging himself. “Sorry.” she said, her cheeks blushing red. “Let’s hurry, so we can get good seats!” She led him through town, pestering him with questions about himself. He patiently answered them, having heard them all before. They soon reached a large gorge, which had been lined with seats like the ones you find at a stadium. They gave their tickets to the large pony who was waiting at the gate, who let them through. She led him to the front row of seats, which still had a few empty spots left. Being the good gentlecolt he was, he let her through first. He sat next to her, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. When will it end? She started rambling on about all the Wonderbolts, and he politely attempted to listen, if not understand. For the next few minutes, they waited as the remaining seats filled up. He’d never had a problem with crowds, so the ever-growing noise didn’t bother him. He looked around the makeshift stadium, watching the ponies filing in. As the sun approached the horizon, a sudden hush fell over the crowd. Braeburn looked around for the reason, and three pegasi, smoke trails accompanying, zoomed by overhead at tremendous speeds. He watched as they looped up and over, and the show began. ______________________________________________________________________________ When the show was over, Soarin landed just outside the exit from the stands. He took a deep breath, trying to collect himself and prepare for the coming flood of fan-ponies. He’d been a bit off during the whole performance, since he’d had a hard time sleeping the previous night. Gracefully, Spitfire landed next to him. “You alright?” she asked. “You’ve been a bit off all day.” Took the words right out of my mind. “I’m fine.” he lied. “Just a bit tired.” “Well, there’s only a few more shows left in the season.” “Yeah.” In front of them, the crowds were finally released from the stands. “Here they come.” The next half hour was full of autographs, pictures, and short conversations. Normally, Soarin would’ve enjoyed this, but today it was dull, and felt drawn out. Ponies asking the same questions over and over again, picture after picture after picture after- “Soarin!” “Huh?” he said, looking up from the ten-millionth picture he’d signed that night. “It’s me!” said a cyan mare, her rainbow mane distinctly visible through the crowd. “Rainbow Dash!” He brightened up slightly. “Hey! How are you?” “I’m great.” she said, beaming as she fought past the last pony in her way. “That last trick was really something!” “Thanks.” he said. “I-” His attention was caught as a yellow stallion emerged from the crowd. He had a long golden mane, and green eyes like Soarin’s. He wore a brown cowpony hat and vest, and his cutie mark was a simple red apple. “Who’s that?” Soarin asked, pointing out the stallion. “Who?” Rainbow Dash turned around, following the direction of Soarin’s hoof. “Oh! Braeburn!” “Somepony call me?” said the stallion, walking over to the two pegasi. “Braeburn, this is Soarin!” said Rainbow Dash. “Nice to meet ya.” said Braeburn. The two stallion shook hooves. “So yer the Soarin Rainbow’s been goin’ on and on about.” “Probably.” said Soarin, who couldn’t seem to look away from Braeburn. “Can’t think of any other stallions with the name she’d go all fan-mare on.” Braeburn laughed, the sound managing to cut through some of the depressed cloud that was surrounding Soarin’s mind. “Ain’t that the truth?” “Hey, Soarin?” said Rainbow Dash. “Where’s Spitfire?” “Over there.” he said, pointing towards where his teammate was in conversation with several other ponies. Unlike him, Spitfire seemed to be enjoying herself, as usual. “Thanks.” Rainbow Dash ran over, and the two struck up a friendly conversation. “So, Braeburn.” Soarin said, returning his attention to the stallion that intrigued him so. “Where do you live?” “Ah’m from Appleoosa.” said Braeburn proudly. “Ah was one of the original settlers!” “Really?” “Sure am! We had a bit of a spat with the buffalo over our apple orchard, but everything’s fine now.” “What happened?” Braeburn raised an eyebrow. “You sure seem awfully interested in me for a Wonderbolt.” “You seem like a nice guy. If you got Rainbow Dash’s attention, she must’ve liked you.” “You two know each other well?” Soarin nodded. “She helped me get my place on the Cloudsdale’s team for the Equestria Games back.” “What happened?” Soarin grinned. “You seem awfully interested in me for an Earth Pony from a frontier town.” “Fair enough.” After a moment of awkward silence, an idea came to Soarin. “Say, Braeburn?” “Yes?” “Would you like to hang out tomorrow? Our next show isn’t for a few days.” “That sounds like a good idea.” Braeburn glanced around. “This isn’t exactly the best place ta have an extended conversation, now is it?” “Not really.” “So, where should we meet? Do you know where Sweet Apple Acres is?” Soarin thought for a moment. “The big red farmhouse?” “Surrounded by apple trees.” Soarin nodded. “Yeah, I saw it earlier when we flew in.” “Ah’m stayin’ there with mah cousins.” “Cool. When should I come?” “We’ll be applebuckin’ most of the day,” said Braeburn, “so it’ll have ta be later, in the evening.” “Does seven sound alright?” “That should be fine.” Braeburn glanced over towards where Rainbow Dash was. “Er… Soarin?” “Yes?” “How do you… get rid of a mare?” Soarin glanced over at Rainbow Dash. “You don’t like her?” “She’s a nice mare, but I don’t really want to date her.” He sighed. “Applejack set it up for me.” “Who?” “Mah cousin. Mah family’s always settin’ me up on dates. I’ve never even had the chance to do the askin’, what with all of ‘em choosin’ themselves as mah personal matchmaker.” “That bad, huh?” Soarin looked back at Rainbow Dash, who was grinning happily. “Well, I wouldn’t worry about Rainbow getting too upset. From what I’ve seen, she’s not really all that big on dating, anyway.” “Thanks.” Braeburn started towards Rainbow Dash. “See ya tomorrow evenin’.” Soarin watched him go, sighing to himself. Then he shook his head. What am I doing? I can’t crush on a… a stallion! He looked down at his hooves. Can I? He seems really nice. He growled at himself, stopping the train of thought in its metaphorical tracks. I like mares! I just went through an intense show, after barely getting any sleep. I just need to go to bed. ______________________________________________________________________________ Braeburn walked Rainbow Dash back to her house, which was on the edge of town. And about fifty feet up. “Rainbow Dash?” he said nervously. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” “Sure.” she said. “What is it?” “Well… you’re a nice mare…” he said, avoiding her eyes. “But… I don’t think this is gonna really work.” “Why?” she asked, looking a bit hurt. “Did I do something?” “No, no. I just… don’t really think of you like that. Yer just… a friend.” He braced himself, waiting for her to do her worst. “Okay.” “What?” He looked up, surprised. Soarin had been right. “It’s okay.” she said happily. “I guess I kind’ve got carried away. I’m not really that into dating anyway.” “So… we’re good?” “Yes.” She smiled cockily. “Besides, dating a stallion would tie me down!” “Well, good night to ya.” “Good night.” Without further ado, she flew up to her house. Braeburn waited a moment, then he began the long journey back to Sweet Apple Acres. He thought about what he had planned for the next day. Soarin had said seven. He felt confident he’d be free by then, considering how long they’d been working in the orchards today. When he’d reached the farm, he took a moment to steel himself. When he felt ready, he entered. “How’d it go?” asked Applejack, who appeared with unnaturally speed and stealth. “You two have a good time?” “It went alright.” he said, avoiding her eyes. “Brae… did you…?” “Yes.” he said flatly. “Ah did. And ah’ll thank you ta let me decide who ah date from now on.” He started for his room, exhausted by the days events. “Did she get upset?” asked Applejack, following him. “No. She was fine.” “Well, at least there’s that much.” “Now, if you don’t mind, ah’m going ta bed.” “Good night Braeburn.” “‘Night Applejack.” He went to his room, and crashed on his bed. He sighed, realizing how uncomfortable it would be to sleep in his vest and hat. He tossed his hat onto the bedside table, and wriggled out of his vest, which he just shoved over the cliff that was the side of the bed. Pulling the covers over him, he forced his body to relax. He took a moment to think back on the day. Soarin. He seemed like an interesting pony. And Braeburn had found himself… liking him? He covered his face with his hoofs, groaning. I can’t like stallions. But do you? N-No. I c-can’t. But do you? I don’t know. He sighed loudly. Why does it have to be so difficult? ______________________________________________________________________________ When the crowds finally cleared away, it was nearly midnight. They returned to their hotel, where Soarin was more than happy to remove his flight suit and collapse onto his bed. His blissful attempt at relaxation was foiled when Spitfire followed him into the room. “Yes?” he asked, burying his face into the soft pillow. “Soarin, Wave and I are going to go grab a bite to eat.” she said. “You want to come?” “Fine.” His voice was muffled by the pillow. He forced himself upright. “I’m coming.” He followed her out, where was his teammate Wave Chill waiting. About Soarin’s height, he had a blue coat and a mane that was a similar hue to Soarin’s, if a bit less messy. In keeping with the trend, he had dark blue eyes. “Where are we going?” he asked, as they exited the hotel. “I heard about this place earlier.” said Wave, who looked as glad to be free of his flight suit as Soarin felt. “Sugarcube Corner.” “Sounds like it’s worth checking out.” said Soarin. “Spit?” “Sure.” she said. “Why not?” They found it near a large fountain. When they walked inside, the first thing Soarin noticed was the smell. It smelled like every kind of delicious that a bakery should. They walked over to the counter, where they were greeted by a shorter mare, whose mane was done in a creative swirling pattern. “What can I get for you, dears?” she asked, in a motherly tone. She seemed unfazed by the presence of three Wonderbolts. “What do you have?” asked Wave, leaning down and looking into the glass case. “Oh, all sorts of things.” “Hmm…” said Spitfire “I’d like to try that.” She pointed out a tray, which held several smaller loaves of a reddish bread. Wave pointed out a stack of fresh pretzels. “Those look good. I think I’ll have one of those.” “Can I have a slice of pie?” asked Soarin, pointing one out. Apple, of course. “Sure thing, dears.” said the mare. She quickly gathered up their orders, and put them on top of the counter. After they’d paid her, they took a seat at one of the booths. Soarin dug in immediately. Nothing got between him and pie. Not that it was an obsession, like Spitfire made it out to be. He just enjoyed the taste. Kind of like how Spitfire couldn’t resist a Root beer Float. Why that, he had no idea. Pie was definitely better, with its crumbly crust and deliciously sweet and tart fillings. Besides, it went just as well with ice cream as Root beer. “That a good one?” asked Wave, looking up from his pretzel. Soarin was sort of an authority, since he always sampled apple pies, so the others always asked what he thought. “It’s good.” he said. “Not as good as the one from the gala, though.” He sighed. “I never did get that mare’s name.” “Oh well.” said Spitfire, chuckling. “You eat pie often enough, you’ll probably find her again.” “That’s not what I meant.” he said, seeing how she’d taken it. “I just wish I could get another one of those…” He licked his lips. “Delicious pies.” And besides, I don’t even like mares. I like- Shut up, me. Rule one of insanity, talking to yourself. Ha! I’m not talking, I’m thinking. You got me there. Or rather, you got you there. Or is it- Zip it. Okay. It still bothered him, though. Did he like mares? Or… did he like stallions? When they returned to the hotel, he made a beeline for his bed. This time, no one stopped him, and he took refuge under the covers. He discovered, however, that he again lacked that key ability one required to properly use a bed. Sleep. He tossed and turned for hours. Should I feel this way? What would happen if I- No! Not happening. He tried counting sheep, which didn’t work. He tried impromptu meditation. Nothing. And that stallion I met earlier, Braeburn. Could he ever like me? Do… do I like him? Shut up! Needless to say, it was a long, long night.
Chapter 3: Let the Games BeginChapter 3 It was morning again, and Braeburn felt decidedly better than he had the previous morning. Today, the rooster’s crowing was bearable, and his bed didn’t cling at his mind as much. Pushing himself up, he stretched out his sleep-stiffened limbs, and jumped off of the bed. He straightened his covers, and grabbing his hat and vest, proceeded to the bathroom. After running a comb through his tangled mane and tail, he went downstairs. He found the three siblings and Granny Smith still eating breakfast. He served himself a bowl of steaming oats, then took a seat on the side of the table between Big Macintosh and Granny Smith. Opposite him, Applejack sat next to Applebloom, who was talking happily about her plans for later in the day. Thankfully, there was no mention nor hint (yet, anyway) of any plans to cook, bake, boil, broil, stew, stir, or otherwise concoct anything of the edible *cough* nature. “Ya sleep well Brae?” asked Applejack cheerfully, looking across the table at him with an expression that seemed friendly enough. I hope that means she’s not upset with me about last night. “Yep.” he said. “That bed sure beats sleeping on the train.” “It certainly does.” The rest of the meal proceeded in relative quiet, with the exception of an occasional burst of conversation. Once he’d finished, Braeburn cleaned his bowl and put it away. He waited for a moment, then decided he might as well get started on the day’s work. He stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the fresh, cool air. As always, the breeze carried the faint scent of apples upon its invisible currents. He went to the barn, and pulled open the doors. With great difficulty, he managed to get the wagon outside of the barn. He loaded it up with empty wooden buckets, getting it ready for Big Macintosh to pull out into the orchard. The older two siblings soon joined him, assisting in preparing for the day’s work. “Yer certainly into it today.” said Applejack. “Ya got out here faster than either of us.” “Ah feel better than ah did yesterday.” he said, placing the last of the buckets in the wagon. “That’s nice to hear.” said Applejack, helping Big Mac hitch himself to the wagon. Big Mac nodded in thanks when she’d finished, then started pulling the wagon out into the orchard. He did so without any apparent effort, a demonstration of his untold strength. “You think we’ll be done by seven?” asked Braeburn, as he and Applejack followed after the red stallion. “Ah think so.” said Applejack. “There still aren’t many apples that are ready. We may even finish sooner that, maybe five.” She raised an eyebrow. “Why?” “Ah’m gonna meet up with someone ah met yesterday. Said ah’d be free by then.” “Who is it?” she grinned smugly. “It’s a mare, isn’t it?” “Actually-” “If that’s why ya turned down Rainbow Dash, ya could’ve just said so.” she continued, ignoring his attempt to correct her. “Ah’m just glad yer expandin’ yer horizons.” Like I ever had the chance to find a mare by myself. “Where are you taking this mysterious mare?” asked Applejack. “I don’t know.” said Braeburn. He didn’t even bother trying to tell her who he was really meeting. She’d never give him a chance to get a word edgewise now anyway. And besides, it wasn’t totally a lie. He didn’t actually know where he and Soarin were going to go. “There’s plenty of fancy restaurants here in Ponyville, if she’s that type. And if she’s a bit more on the casual side, there’s always Sugarcube Corner.” “Thanks, cous’.” he said. “Ah’ll think on that.” Definitely casual. “Yer welcome.” Big Mac brought the wagon to a stop in the middle of a patch of trees, whose apples were definitely ripe, all of them shiny and bright red. The three ponies fell back into the rhythm they’d been in the day before, the work day flowing by. ______________________________________________________________________________ Soarin’s morning wasn’t nearly as pleasant. When he got up, he had to shower and eat as quickly as possible so the team could make it to a press conference at town hall. He was exhausted, having barely slept the previous night. He was to tired to even argue when Spitfire exaggerated his pie cravings as an obsession, in front of a room full of camera ponies and reporters. When that was over, they had just enough time for a short lunch, before heading off to practice for a while at the gorge where they’d done their show. “Soarin!” shouted Spitfire, startling him. He’d dozed off, and missed his cue to take off. “What is up with you?” “I’m sorry.” he said, yawning and wiping a line of drool off of his chin. “I couldn’t sleep last night.” “Well, you’re no use to me if you’re going to be falling asleep during practice. Go and take a nap.” “Thanks, Spit.” he said, dragging himself into a standing position. “If you wake up in time, come back and join us, alright?” “Will do.” He returned to their hotel, avoiding several news ponies on the way. He flopped down on his bed, and this time, had no problem falling asleep, helped along by sheer exhaustion. When he woke up, the bedside clock said it was 4 o’clock. He shoved himself upright, stretching out his wings. He felt a good deal better than he had that morning. He forced himself to stand; he might still had time to join in the remainder of the practice. He flew back to where they’d been practicing, but they were already gone. He flew over Ponyville, looking for something to do with himself. An answer quickly presented itself when he spotted a pegasus with a camera, following him surreptitiously in the distance. Soarin tilted his wings, sending himself into a steep climb. The camera pony followed him, so Soarin slowed, letting them get closer. Then he dove sharply, leaving his follower far behind. Unfortunately, he dived straight into a whole crowd of camera ponies and reporters. He increased his speed, until he was just a blue streak to a pony standing on the ground. He flew west over Ponyville, desperate to get away. ______________________________________________________________________________ Braeburn was just finishing up on another tree, when he heard a loud thud behind him. He whirled around, to see Soarin, who had just landed at high speeds. “Hide me!” Soarin panted, looking around frantically. “In the tree!” said Braeburn, who could now see why Soarin looked so panicked. A large group of camera-wielding pegasi was approaching at high speeds. Soarin flew up into the tree, hiding among the branches. When the pegasi landed, Braeburn had returned to bucking the trees. He was glad that the tree Soarin was hiding in had already been taken care off. “Have you seen Soarin?” asked the lead pony excitedly. “Who?” asked Braeburn, not looking at them. He hooked himself up to his cart, and started pulling it towards the next group of trees. “Soarin. The Wonderbolt.” “Never heard of him. He some sort of singer?” “Er… never mind.” Braeburn waited until he was sure they were gone, before returning to the tree where Soarin was hiding. He tapped the trunk lightly with a hoof. “They’re gone.” he said. “Ya can come down now.” “Thanks.” said Soarin, dropping down to the ground. “Yer a bit early.” Braeburn looked up at the sun. “It’s only four-ish.” “Sorry. Didn’t really think about where I was going.” “Well, if yer here,” said Braeburn, turning back to his work, “ya might as well hang around. Ah’m almost done anyway.” “Okay.” Soarin sat, and watched as Braeburn walked up to the next tree in line. He turned away from it, then with his front hooves firmly planted on the ground, he bucked the tree. It shook, and apples fell from the branches, landing in the buckets placed in a circle around the tree. Braeburn started collecting these, carrying them on his back to the cart. Soarin watched him do this several more times, growing steadily more bored. When it was finally too much, he stood, and started helping Braeburn carry the latest group to the cart. “Ya don’t need to do that.” said Braeburn. “Ah can handle it.” “It’s no problem.” said Soarin. “And besides, if I don’t do something, I’ll go insane from boredom.” Braeburn shrugged, and let him get on with it. When they’d finished with one section, they moved on to the next. They continued for about an hour, until he’d determined that they’d covered enough of the orchard for the day. He pulled his cart back to the barn, parking it alongside the other cart and the large wagon. “Ah’ll go clean up.” said Braeburn, who was considerably more sweaty than Soarin. “Then we can go into town, get a bite to eat or something.” “Sounds good.” said Soarin. Braeburn walked into the farmhouse. As he was headed up the stairs, Applejack appeared at the top. “Done?” she asked, as he joined her on the landing. “Sorry we left, but Applebloom and her friends were up to something. “It’s fine.” said Braeburn. “Mah friend’s here a bit early, so I’m gonna clean up real quick then we’ll be off.” “I’d like to meet her.” Inside his mind, Braeburn sighed exasperatedly. “Not now. Maybe later.” She rolled her eyes. “Fine.” After he’d cleaned up, he rejoined Soarin outside. Soarin nodded in greeting, and by silent agreement they started down the path to the road. “So, Soarin.” said Braeburn. “What was that you were saying about the Equestria Games last night?” “Well, you see…” They walked together down the dirt path. Soarin explained how Spitfire, his co-captain, had convinced Rainbow Dash that he was too injured to compete in the qualifiers. Rainbow Dash had gotten caught up in the ‘coolness’ of competing with her heroes. But when she’d been given a choice between staying with her friends or joining the Cloudsdale team, she’d faked injury. She’d discovered Soarin’s injuries weren’t as bad as they’d been made out to be, and the two of them had confronted Spitfire. In the end, Rainbow Dash stayed with her friends, and Soarin got his spot on the Cloudsdale team back. “That wasn’t really nice of her.” said Braeburn. “Takin’ Rainbow Dash over you, just ‘cause she’s faster and younger.” Soarin nodded. “But enough about me. What happened in Appleoosa?” Braeburn told him about how the settlers and buffalo had fought over the land Appleoosa was built on, specifically the orchard. He explained how, when Applejack had come to visit, bringing an apple tree for the orchard, the buffalo had hijacked the train car carrying it. It had been difficult to get everyone to sit down and talk, but after the buffalo’s chief got a taste of apple pie, they’d come to an agreement. The settlers could stay where they were, as long as a small path was cut through the trees, and the buffalo got a share of the apple harvest. When he’d finished the story, they’d made it to Ponyville. “What’re ya hankerin’ for?” asked Braeburn. “I went somewhere last night.” said Soarin. “It’s called… Sugarcube Corner.” “Sugarcube Corner, eh?” Braeburn looked around, then pointed. “It’s that way.” ______________________________________________________________________________ Inside Sugarcube Corner, delicious smells wafted through the air. The two stallions’ mouths watered in response to the olfactory pleasures they were experiencing. There were several other ponies inside, all of them enjoying delicious desserts of all varieties. As they approached the counter, a pink mare with a ridiculously curly mane popped out from behind it. “Hey there!” she said happily, wide grin plastered across her muzzle. “What can I get you today?” “I’d like one of your apple fritters.” said Braeburn, pointing it out. “I’ll have a slice of your awesome apple pie.” said Soarin. He’d enjoyed the slice from the previous night so much, he found himself wanting more. “Coming right up!” said Pinkie. “Go ahead and take a seat!” “Thanks.” They found an empty table, and pulled out their seats. Pinkie came by shortly, carrying their requests. “That’ll be eight bits, please!” “Here you go.” said Soarin, handing her the money. She bounced over to the cash register, and deposited the coins inside. “Ah can pay for myself.” said Braeburn. “My treat.” said Soarin. “My way of saying thanks.” “You’re welcome.” They dug hungrily into their food. While Braeburn chewed his fritter carefully, Soarin just gobbled his pie down. Braeburn stared at him, eyebrow raised. “What?” said Soarin, through a mouthful of pie. “I’m hungry.” “Ah’ve been working in the orchards all day.” said Braeburn pointedly. Soarin swallowed before speaking again. “But I’m not as strong as you.” “Hmm.” After they’d eaten, they headed back out. They exchanged stories, Braeburn about the early days of Appleoosa, and Soarin about his experiences travelling with the Wonderbolts. As they chatted, the sun grew inexorably closer to the horizon, gathering the twilight colors about itself like blankets. “Look at the time.” said Braeburn, as they passed the clocktower. “Ah’d better head home.” “Alright then.” said Soarin. “This was fun. We should do it again.” “You busy tomorrow?” “Not really.” “Same time?” Soarin grinned. “See you then.” He watched Braeburn trot off towards Sweet Apple Acres, sighing contentedly. He’d had a good day, and hopefully, he’d be able to sleep better tonight. He made his way back to the hotel, moving quickly in an attempt to avoid drawing attention. “Where’d you go?” asked Spitfire, as he entered their section of the hotel. “You didn’t come back.” “I came back.” said Soarin, opening the door to his room. “But you guys were already gone. “We must’ve just missed each other.” said Spitfire. “We came right back here after we’d finished practicing.” Soarin grunted in acknowledgment. “Where’d you go after that?” asked Spitfire. “I hung out with a friend I made yesterday.” “What’s their name?” “Braeburn. Could you go now? I’d like to shower.” “Sure. Sleep well.” “I’ll try.” Spitfire left, and Soarin locked the door behind her. He went to the bathroom, and turned on the water. Once he was satisfied with the temperature, he stepped in. As the hot water washed through his fur and feathers, he grabbed a bottle of shampoo. After squirting some of the clear gel onto his hoof, he lathered up his mane and tail. Rinsing it out, he then repeated the process on his coat. He rinsed one last time, then he shut off the water. He dried off, and stepped back into the main room. He snuggled under the sheets, clutching the pillows with a hoof. Feeling oddly peaceful, he fell asleep quickly. ______________________________________________________________________________ When Braeburn got back to the farmhouse, he wasn’t surprised that Applejack was waiting for him. No doubt she wants to hear how it went. “So, how’d it go?” See? “Fine.” he said. “But, cous’-” “Ah really am glad yer finally found yerself a good fillyfriend.” she said, cutting him off as usual. “Ah can’t wait ta meet ‘er.” “Yeah.” said Braeburn half-heartedly. “Night, cous’.” “Night, Brae.” He clambered upstairs, and took a quick shower. Then he retreated to his room, burying himself under the blankets and nuzzling into his pillows. Sleep was soon his.
Chapter 4: To Share a DayChapter 4 Soarin was woken up when the sun sent its rays through the window and across his closed eyes. He groaned, and flipped his pillow onto his head. He lay there, under the soft sheets, trying desperately to fall back asleep. Eventually, this proved to be completely futile. He sighed, and flung the pillow off his face and onto the ground. Tossing the sheets back, he sat up and yawned widely. He stepped down off the hotel bed, grunting as he hit the ground a bit harder than he’d been prepared too. He walked to the bathroom, and flipped the light switch. The lights took a moment to respond, then they flickered on. He turned on the shower, and stepped under the water. Once he’d showered and brushed his teeth, he proceeded to the hotel’s cafeteria. Spitfire was already there, looking a bit better rested than he felt at the moment. He grabbed some food, then joined her at the table. she smiled at him, and he nodded back. “How’d you sleep?” she asked. “You look better.” “I guess.” he said. “But I’m still a bit tired.” “I see. Feel up to a little practice?” “I guess. Can we take it easy, though? I want to have some energy left over for the show.” “Sure.” she grinned slightly. “But not too easy.” He sighed. “Of course not.” They went back to the gorge where they’d been practicing, somehow managing to get there without being caught by reporters or camera ponies. They started with some simple maneuvers, but Spitfire continually ramped up the difficulty of their flight patterns. She did keep her word though, and they didn’t do anything more strenuous than they could stand. When they’d finished, they proceeded back to the hotel. Once they’d eaten lunch, they had another set of interviews to sit through. It was just as exhausting as the one they’d attended the previous day. This time though, he was better rested, which made it easier for him to answer the reporter’s questions. And defend himself from blatant accusations of pie obsession by Spitfire. ___________________________________________ Braeburn bucked another tree, sending the apples raining down into the barrels he’d set around the tree. While he moved the barrels to the wagon, he thought about what he and Soarin would do that night. He wasn’t completely sure why it mattered to him so much. He just hoped that Applejack wouldn’t explode or anything when she found out that he wasn’t dating a mare, just hanging out with a friend. As he continued, he wondered why he cared so much anyway. After he’d finished the section of the orchard he was in, he hooked himself up to the cart and took it to the barn. He started unloading the cart, being careful not to bruise any apples. He heard someone knock on the barn door. He looked over his shoulder, to find Soarin leaning against the frame. He gave him a goofy grin, that made Braeburn’s stomach lurch. “What are you doin’ here?” he asked. “Y’all aren’t supposed ta come ‘til tonight.” “I finished up with training stuff for today.” said Soarin. “So… I thought I’d come early and help out.” “That’s real nice of ya. I’d tell ya ya don’t have to… but ya wouldn’ listen anyhow, would ya?” Soarin grin got wider. “Nope.” “Come on then.” Braeburn gestured at the barrels that were still sitting in the cart. “Help me get these here apples unloaded.” “Okay.” Together, they began unloading the barrels. Soarin wasn’t as strong as Braeburn, but his wings made it easier for him to get above the barrel. When Braeburn paused to wipe the sweat off of his brow, he found himself watching the blue pegasus. Soarin was intent on the work, concentrating solely on getting the apples out without damaging them. Braeburn was surprised that he was willing to do hard work like this, being a celebrity. But Soarin looked like he was actually having a good time, and when he saw Braeburn watching, he grinned. “What’re you up too?” “Just taking a quick break.” said Braeburn. He put his hat back on, then started lifting a barrel off of the wagon. It began to tilt over, but then he felt it get lighter. “Huh?” “I got it.” said Soarin. Together, they lowered it to the ground. “Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” Braeburn turned his head away, trying to suppress a blush. Soarin was only a few inches away from him right now, and that darned voice in his head wouldn’t shut up. Thankfully, Soarin backed up a little. “Thanks fer helping.” said Braeburn. “Ah appreciate it.” “It’s fine.” said Soarin. “It was fun.” Braeburn raised his eyebrow. Fun? “Okay.” Soarin nudged him playfully with a hoof. “So, you want to go hang out, get something to eat?” “Uh… sure. Just let me go’n let’em know I’m leavin’.” Soarin nodded, and followed him to the farmhouse porch. He sat on one of the chairs, and Braeburn went inside. He found Applejack in the kitchen. It looked like she’d finished her chores early. Applebloom was beside her, perched on a stool. They were looking down at a cookbook, which sent waves of foreboding through him. After making a mental note to check with Applejack whenever he wanted something to eat here, he cleared his throat. “Hey, AJ?” “Yeah?” she said, looking up. “I’m goin’ out with a friend. I’ll be back later tonight, ‘kay?” “Okay Brae. Er… who is it?” She grinned knowingly. “Is it her?” He rolled his eyes, then left. Outside, Soarin got up, grinning. Braeburn followed him down the dirt road. As they walked through Ponyville, they swapped stories. Soarin was easy for him to talk to, and he took full advantage. They took a turn down a side street, and Braeburn spotted a hayburger joint. He pointed it out, and Soarin agreed happily. “It’s been ages since I had a good burger.” he said enthusiastically. They walked into the restaurant, and up to the counter. Soarin was causing a bit of a stir, and they cashier pony was staring at him. “Hey, Braeburn?” Soarin said, leaning in. “Yeah?” “I forgot to wear a disguise, didn’t I?” “Sort of.” He nodded, and straightened up. He ordered a hayburger, as well as a bunch of fries. Braeburn ordered, and then they waited for their order. “Should we take it to go?” asked Soarin, whispering. They were still being watched, and Braeburn realized he must look very uncomfortable. And for good reason, because he was. “That’s probably a good idea.” he whispered back. The cashier came back to the counter, with a bag that contained their food. “Can we get these to go?” asked Soarin, addressing the cashier in a low voice. “O-of course, Mister Soarin, sir.” “Thank you.” he said, taking the bag from him. He subtly gestured at the door, and Braeburn followed him out. They went to the park, and pony-watched for a while. As they ate, they chatted. Not about anything important, just random stuff, stories they’d heard. After a few hours, Braeburn had to go. He didn’t want to, but he needed to get enough sleep tonight so he could get his work done the next day. “See you tomorrow?” asked Soarin hopefully. “Sure.” said Braeburn. “I’d like that. Thanks again fer helpin’ me out an’ everything.” “You’re welcome.” Braeburn shook his hoof, then headed towards Sweet Apple Acres. Soarin watched him go, then began to wend his way back to the hotel. When Soarin got there, he was smiling happily. Spitfire and Fleetfoot were chatting in the lobby. When Spitfire had spotted him, she got up and came over. “What’s got you so happy?” she asked, noticing his smile. It’d been a while since she’d seen him with a smile like that. “I don’t know.” he said. “It’s just been a nice day.” She smiled “Good. Hope you’re ready for Friday, then.” He nodded. He’d almost forgotten about their last show of the season. “Totally.” “Good. Make sure you get enough sleep tonight. I need you to be well rested for tomorrow’s practice.” He nodded again, then went to the hotel’s cafeteria. After he’d eaten dinner, he went to his room. It was late, so he showered and went to bed. He snuggled under his covers, and blacked out. ___________________________________________ Braeburn arrived home to the smell of rotten eggs and burnt toast. He covered his nose, took a deep breath, then walked in through the kitchen door. “Hello?” he called nervously. “I’m home.” “Hi!” said Applebloom, who was sitting at the table with Applejack. “Want a cookie?” She proffered a plate of perfectly normal looking chocolate chip cookies. He picked one up, and looked questioningly at Applejack. She had sweat on her face and her mane was a ruffled mess, but she nodded. Safe. He took a small bite out of the cookie, and hummed appreciatively. It was pretty good. “Do you like it?” “Yeah!” he said, taking another bite. “This is pretty good.” She grinned happily, and walked into the living room. Braeburn went over to Applejack, who was wiping the sweat off of her face with a handkerchief. “What did you do?” he asked. “I made sure she followed the recipe.” Braeburn nodded, then went upstairs to shower. When he laid down in his bed, he closed his eyes and sighed. He smiled as bits and pieces of the day resurfaced in his mind. Soarin helping him in the barn. The stories they’d told, both of long ago and not so far back. The clear breeze that had been blowing while they ate in the park. Soarin’s warm scent as he helped Braeburn lower that overly heavy barrel of apples. Wait a second… What?! He went back to that last thought. His… scent? Where had that come from. Against his will, he sighed as he remembered that smell. Like fresh air, intermingled with the faint smell of soap… and sweat. Why is this getting to me? I just noticed, that’s all. I don’t know why I stick around, if you’re so oblivious. Apparently, he just couldn’t leave himself alone. You can’t really go anywhere, you know. You’re sort’ve part of me. I know that. I was being sarcastic. No. Really? Yes, really. That was sarcasm too. I know that. Anyway, what’re you going to do about Soarin? You obviously like him. I do. But we’re friends. That’s all. Okay. That’s it? No arguments about whether or not I’m attracted to him? Nope. Braeburn sighed. His psyche was so weird. He curled up against the pillow, and let himself drift off.
Chapter 1: Train Seats Are Evil, Mares Are CreepyChapter 1 Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack- The sound of the train’s wheels was ever present in Braeburn Apple’s ears. He leaned back in his seat, sighing to himself. The journey between Appleoosa and Ponyville took the better part of two days, and he was almost certain he’d go mad from boredom before he reached his destination. He rubbed the sides of his head in frustration, trying to relieve the tension. Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack- He took his brown cowpony hat off, setting it down on the seat next to him. He used both forehooves to rub the spots right above his ears, trying to relax. He’d been on this stupid train for weeks and weeks. Okay, days, but it felt a lot longer, the monotony and constant sound of the wheels was making him anxious for something to do. He should’ve listened and brought something along, like a book, or at least something to put his head on. The train’s seats were evil. Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack- He slumped over, lying across his seat and the empty one next to him. This helped a little, since he didn’t have to support his own weight anymore. The seats were still uncomfortable, but he was too tired to care how plush the red fabric was. He yawned widely, looking forward to going to bed once he reached Sweet Apple Acres. Why did it have to take so gosh darn long to get there? Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack,Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack,Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, Hissssssssss- He heard the hiss of steam from the brakes, and felt a change in the train’s motion. His body tilted over slightly in the evil seats, as the train started to slow down. He forced himself to sit up, groaning as he stretched his stiff, sore limbs. His well toned muscles flexed under his yellow coat. He stood, rocking slightly on his hooves as the train came to a complete halt. He brushed his golden mane out of his eyes, put on his hat, then picked up his saddlebags and draped them over his strong back. He exited onto the platform, snorting as cold night air stung his sensitive nose, clouds of white vapor drifting out of his nostrils. “Braeburn!” called a voice, off to his left. He turned his head, and saw Applejack waving to him. She looked the same as always, completely plain except for the ponytail (pun intended) and her old, brown hat. “Hey cous’!” he said, going to meet her. Finally, somepony to talk to. “Howdy!” she said, wearing a mischievous grin. “And welcome to POOOOOONY-VILLE!” she shouted, rearing. “Ha ha.” he laughed sarcastically. “Yer never going to let me live that down, are you?” “Nope.” She embraced him warmly, and he returned the gesture. “Let’s get ya to Sweet Apple Acres.” she said, once they’d finished their hug. “You must be exhausted.” “That sounds real nice.” he said, following her down the steps that led off of the platform. “I couldn’t get a bunk on the sleeper car.” She grimaced sympathetically. “Thanks fer comin’ ta help us with the apple-buckin’.” “Yer welcome.” he said, as they proceeded towards the town, which they had to pass through in order to reach the farm. “You doin’ well?” she asked pleasantly. “Ah’m alright.” he said. “How’re things here?” “Well, Applebloom’s convinced her cutie mark has something to do with cookin’.” she said, shuddering slightly. “An’ Mac’s the same as ever.” “And you?” “Ah’m fine.” she said, sidestepping slightly as a brown stallion with a darker brown mane ran by. “You found yerself a marefriend yet?” She winked slyly. “No.” said Braeburn. “Not yet.” “Well, ya’d better get a move on.” she said. “Or all the good’uns ‘ll be taken.” He nodded absently. After a few more minutes of walking, Applejack cleared her throat. “Er, Braeburn?” she said. “I thought ya might like ta know, one of my friends… she’s taken a liking to ya.” Surprised, Braeburn turned his head to regard Applejack. “Who might that be?” he asked. Why can’t they just leave me alone? “Rainbow Dash. She asked me about you the other day, said you were-” She cleared her throat. “The most handsome stallion she’d ever met.” “High praise.” Braeburn knew about Rainbow Dash’s ‘coolness’ fixation, courtesy of the ongoing correspondence between himself and his cousin. High praise indeed. “Yeah.” Applejack looked up at the sky. “Thing is, ah don’t want one of mah friends gettin’ hurt. And yer family, which makes it even more difficult.” “Ah see. But what do you want me ta do about it?” This can’t end well. Applejack laughed nervously. “Well, see, I told her you were comin’ ta visit.” “And?” said Braeburn, stopping in anticipation of the answer. He’d been set up on so many dates by relatives, he’d gotten used to these conversations. Here it comes. Applejack stopped as well. “Ah kind’ve set you two up fer tomorrow evenin’.” Braeburn sighed, exasperated. “Ah can arrange dates fer myself, you know.” Seriously, I get set up so often, how am I supposed to find a mare that I actually like? “Ah know.” said Applejack, kicking out at a stone on the path. She sent it hurtling into the darkness. “But the family’s worried, see? We don’t want ya to be all alone fer the rest of yer life.” “I know.” He did indeed, as he’d heard those same words, or rather words to that effect, about fifty seven and a half times (and yes, he’d counted). Better chalk it up to fifty-eight and a half. Should I just round that half out? And do you round upor downin this situation? “Will ya go?” she asked. “It’d make her really happy if ya did.” He sighed again. “Fine.” Here we go again. “Thanks Brae.” she said, wrapping a hoof around his neck. “Yer welcome.” he said cheerfully, while privately he thought: I just hope it goes better than any of the other dates. They resumed their journey, and soon arrived at their destination. A tall red barn, nestled in the middle of a large clearing in the orchards. It was framed by the night sky, in which a multitude of twinkling stars were set. Braeburn sighed quietly, enjoying the natural beauty of the place. The smell of apples was rich and sweet, a preview of what awaited the next day. He opened the door for Applejack, who thanked him and stepped inside. He followed her in, shutting the door behind him. Inside, he was met by the pleasantly familiar sight of his Ponyville relatives. Applebloom was jabbering excitedly, Winona jumped up at him trying to lick his face, and Granny Smith was in a rocking chair on the far side of the room. Big Macintosh nodded in greeting, and Braeburn nodded back. “One at a time, please!” he shouted over the mix of voices and dog barks. They calmed down, and Braeburn took the opportunity to get Winona to sit still. As he gently rubbed her head, he turned to Applebloom. “How’re ya?” “Ah’m great!” she said excitedly. “Ah’ve been learnin’ ta cook!” “Is that so?” He saw Applejack flinch at the words. “Yeah! I whipped up a delicious apple tart earlier!” Everyone but Braeburn and Applebloom shuddered, including the dog. “Is there any left?” he asked. Applebloom shook her head. “All gone!” she pronounced happily. “It was so good, no one could keep their hooves off of it!” Braeburn glanced up at his other two cousins. Applejack had gone slightly green, and even Big Mac seemed to have had his usually perfect composure shaken by the… (cough) tart. Applejack’s face was slowly turning from light green to a dangerous shade reminiscent of pea soup. That bad, huh? “Oh well.” he said, faking disappointment. “Ah’ll just have to wait fer yer next culinary feat.” She nodded, and he redirected his attention to Granny Smith. Everyone else relaxed, having cleared the dangerous subject. “An’ yer lookin’ just as good as ever, Granny.” he said, walking over to her. “You betcha!” she said, taking his hoof gently for a moment in greeting. She smiled softly at the young stallion. “I’m as fit as a fiddle!” “Yes ma’am!” He said, yawning. “If ya don’t mind, ah’d love ta hit the hay. The train seats weren’t really all that comfortable.” “Sure thing.” said Applejack. “You can use the same room as last time.” “Thanks.” he said, making for the stairs. “See y’all in the morning!” “Night, cous’.” said Applebloom, waving. He smiled, and proceeded to the room he’d stayed in when he’d last been here. Stepping inside, he gently shut the door. Laying his saddlebags, vest, and hat down next to the bed, he collapsed into its soft embrace. He somehow managed to get under the cool covers, which were soothing after his long trip on the train. The quilt was old, and decorated with the apple motif that was on much of the furniture. He stared up at the ceiling, yawning again. Why can’t I find a marefriend? he asked himself. Maybe it’d help if I knew them instead of getting them thrown at me by my relatives. Putting these thoughts aside for another time, preferably one during which he wasn’t exhausted. He turned on his side and nuzzled into the pillow. Sleep found him quickly. ______________________________________________________________________________ “Good night to you!” shouted Spitfire over the cheering crowd. “Thanks for coming!” Soarin grinned at the roaring fans, following Spitfire and the other Wonderbolts off of the stage. They were greeted by yet another wave of roaring fans. He loved this part of the job, inspiring others to do better. That, and he enjoyed flying more than anything. He got a thrill out of his job, and he’d worked hard to get this far. What wasn’t to like? “Soarin!” shouted one mare. “Will you sign this?” “Certainly!” he said, taking a pen from her, and signing a picture of himself with a flourish. To an outside observer, it would’ve appeared a bit fancy for a stallion’s. “There you go!” “Thank you!” she said, trotting off into the milling crowd of ponies. “Hey, Soarin?” said another mare’s voice behind him. He turned to see who’d called his name, and felt an unexpected pressure on his lips. This mare was kissing him? He pushed her off of him, staring at her in shock. Her cheeks were red, as well as the tips of her ears. She had to be drunk, judging by her lack of balance. “Wanna come back to my apartment with me?” she asked, grinning and winking in a way that suggested she was thinking… naughty things. Soarin stepped back, panicking. “N-no thank you.” “You sure?” she asked, following him. “Big, strong pegasus stallion like you? We could make-” she traced a hoof down the neck of his suit, causing him to freak out even more. “Beautiful music.” He removed her hoof forcibly. “No.” he said insistently. When she didn’t leave him alone, he called for security. They had her removed, and the Wonderbolts began make their way back to their hotel through the crowds. “Hey, Soarin?” said Spitfire, noticing how abnormally silent her friend was. “You alright?” He didn’t answer, so she pushed further. “Don’t let that mare get to you.” she said. “It’s not worth your time.” “I-It’s not that.” he said quietly. He held back the torrent of thoughts that flooded against his mind. “Then what is it?” He didn’t answer. And though she pestered him the entire way back, he gave nothing further. When they arrived, he went straight to his room. He heard the door handle being rattled, but in anticipation of pursuit, he’d locked the door. He needed to be alone. “Soarin?” called Spitfire through the door. “You sure you’re alright?” “Yes.” he called back, trying to keep his voice level. And failed. “I-I’m going to bed early, that’s all.” “We were going to get something to eat.” “I’m not hungry.” That was a lie, and his stomach betrayed him with a loud grumble, protesting his statement. “You go on.” “If you’re sure.” she said. He listened to her retreating footsteps, then went to his bed. He curled up on it, not even bothering to remove his suit. He finally gave in to the suppressed thoughts. Why didn’t I feel anything? Sure, I don’t know her, but I should’ve felt something. It was just… weird. And… why have I never felt it for any of the mares I’ve met? He shuddered slightly, tightening his wings about himself. And, when I’m around other stallions… how come I feel… He cut off the thought. “N-No.” he whispered to himself. “I-I like mares. I-I’m just tired, that’s all.” After half an hour, he slipped into a daze. It took him several more hours to fully go to sleep, still dressed in his Wonderbolt suit.
