Sleepover at Apple Bloom's

The last of the daylight was fading fast as the three little fillies sat on the front porch of the farmhouse. They were taking turns eating and talking, recounting the evening’s activities between big mouthfuls of carrot cake and gulps of ice-cold milk. The glasses sweated in the lagging summer heat, and Apple Bloom used both hooves to make sure that she didn’t spill her drink. Granny Smith had outdone herself with the cake, and the clover icing was truly delicious. Scootaloo had a big daub of it smeared on the side of her nose, and Apple Bloom thought several times of leaning over and licking it off, but she resisted the temptation. Besides, the really fun games weren’t that far off now.

Turning her attention back to the sporadic conversation, Apple Bloom was pleased at how well things had gone over the past few hours. Everypony agreed that the clubhouse flag was marvelous, thanks to the helping hoof that the Crusaders had gotten from Rarity at her boutique. They had played an epic game of freeze tag, which had included both Applejack and Big Mac, and even featured a cameo appearance by her older sister’s dog, Winona, who lacked an understanding of the rules, but made up for it in enthusiasm. Countless lightning bugs had been acquired and released, and they were now busily blinking across the farmyard. Even the paper airplanes had been lots of fun, although they had not yielded any cutie marks as hoped.

As if on cue, a silence settled in, and the fillies listened to the buzzing, chirping, creaking sounds of the summer evening. Sweetie Belle stretched and yawned. Scootaloo patted her full belly in satiated appreciation. Apple Bloom picked up her empty glass and plateful of crumbs and headed inside. The other two followed suit. The girls placed their dishes in the sink and turned to head upstairs.

“Hold it right there, fillies” called Applejack from the living room.

Apple Bloom let out an audible grunt of disappointment—she hated it when her sister interrupted her and her friends’ activities.

“There’s no way you lot are getting in that nice, clean bed. Why y’all are dirtier than work boots on a mud farm.”

“Aww,” chorused all three fillies, trying to appear clean and angelic. Truth be told, they were about as sweaty and dirty and grass-stained as three little ponies could be. “Do we have to?”

“Eeyup,” exclaimed Big Mac, who had appeared out of nowhere and whisked his little sister into the air. He headed out the kitchen door with Apple Bloom slung over his broad shoulder. She knew that resistance to her big brother was futile, so she gave in and let herself be carried while AJ herded the other two behind.

With little fanfare, Apple Bloom found herself being tossed into the large wooden washtub that the Apple family kept in the backyard. At least somepony had filled it with fresh, cool water. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle begged Big Mac to throw them, too, and he eventually conceded. With screeches and splashes, the tub gained a second and then a third occupant.

“Soap and shampoo,” commanded Applejack, looking her sister directly in the eye to make sure that she was clearly understood. Apple Bloom gave a solemn nod of contrition, and the older siblings went back into the farmhouse.

The sunlight had long ago faded, but the moon was halfway up, and mostly full, so the girls had plenty of light by which to bathe. Although Apple Bloom had put up a fight, the cool water actually felt really nice on her pelt, and she held her nose and submerged beneath the surface. She liked the muted quiet that a pony experienced underwater, and she stayed under as long as her lungs permitted. Her friends had started washing, and she allowed herself to look at their lithe little bodies, and all the soapy rubbing that was going on. Ooh, the ache between her haunches was back. It wouldn’t be long now. She wondered if her friends were having similar, naughty thoughts.

Resurfacing, she spit a large mouthful of water at Scootaloo, who squealed and returned the salvo. An all-out water battle ensued, and Apple Bloom felt that she held her own despite the fact that Scootaloo employed her wings as a shield and Sweetie Bell used her magic to lob wobbly spheres of water at her adversaries. Between the hoof-splashes and water-bombs, the fillies somehow managed a pretty thorough wash. Apple Bloom would have loved to take turns with her friends lathering each other up—she was getting pretty anxious now—but her sister would periodically peer out of the kitchen window. Applejack may be pretty cool as big sisters go, but she had made it clear that bathing etiquette included a “keep-your-hooves-to-yourself” policy.

Good mane and tail care is very import to a farming family, who spend lots of time out in the elements, and the Apples always kept an assortment of sweet-smelling shampoos and conditioners on hoof. Apple Bloom’s favorite shampoo was Green Apple Pear, and she squirted a generous amount into her hoof, and slowly worked it into her long, red mane.

Scootaloo selected a spicy-sweet Cinnamon Vanilla and hastily rubbed a dollop into her little magenta mane. Apple Bloom couldn’t imagine having such a short-cropped manecut, but Scoot liked it--easy to manage, she had once explained.

Sweetie Belle looked carefully over all of the choices before settling on a Peppermint and Lavender Crème Rinse. Apple Bloom couldn’t be happier. She secretly thought that Sweetie Belle had the most beautiful mane in all of Equestria, and she loved her lavender and pink curls even more when they smelled lavender and pink, too. With any luck she would fall asleep with her muzzle buried in all that damp luxuriousness.