The Many Complications of Interspecies Romance

Chapters

Splinters
Eggs
Fishes
Pitchforks
Epilogue

Splinters

There was a theory in Equestria. It was a theory proposed by ponies with far too much time on their hooves, about a universe with more flexible rules than others. According to them, the universe, what with all the magic that made up its fabric, it had acquired elastic properties.

This was usually as far as the theory got. Most ponies snickered and left whatever scientist had proposed the theory to go home and return to do whatever it was he or she was doing before. Being friendless, mostly.

But if one listened to the theory all the way to the end...

The universe, they said, was similar to a river. It knew more or less how things were supposed to go. And the universe, being by its very nature old, tended to be quite conservative. It knew what everything was supposed to be simply by dint of knowing what it had always been. Earth ponies were on the ground. Badgers were underground. Alicorns lived in big shiny houses.

And the elastic properties of magic tended to keep things this way.

But sometimes, something would happen to the universe. Something that stretched the rubber band that was reality too far for comfort.

Two ponies fell in love when they weren't supposed to.

The universe was very, very confused, and the two ponies involved weren't much more knowledgeable on the matter.

The cries of anguish echoed through the mid-afternoon air, taking everypony by surprise. Screams were for midnight, or inside tall mansions with too many easily-weaponizable candlesticks. Not mid-afternoon, two hours after a heavy lunch. You’d be just getting back into the swing of things. In just fifteen minutes, you'd take a quick coffee break. It wasn't the right time for screams. It wasn't convenient.

Applejack, the pony who had screamed in the first place, didn't care what anypony else thought was convenient. She was hurt, on her side, clutching her hind leg. Tears borne of confusion and pain welled up in her eyes.

Rainbow Dash was the second pony on the scene. She would have been first, only Big Macintosh had been there when the accident had taken place. Apples red like bloody roses were fallen around Applejack. Her older brother was wide-eyed and panicking, unsure what had happened, and why his sister was crying in pain.

In fact, he reacted so slowly he'd later swear Rainbow had gotten there first, regardless of the facts.

"Are y'all right?" he asked, half-hoping that seeing Applejack attempt to buck a tree and collapsing was merely a trick of the light.

"My hoof!" Applejack cried, trying to stretch her body in ways that wouldn't work to look at her injury. Rainbow wrapped her fore-hooves around her withers, pulling her back and holding her still.

"Hey, don't move so much. What is it? Broken hoof?"

"It hurts..." Applejack winced, struggling against Rainbow's grip. Despite the pegasus’ physical strength, she almost broke free.

"Hey, Big Mac, check out her hoof," Rainbow instructed. To Big Mac's surprise, she displayed remarkable calm at seeing her hard-as-nails friend writhing in pain.

"Somethin's... stuck in my hoof..."

Rainbow bit her lip as she tried putting her foreleg on top of Applejack's head in an effort to soothe her. "Hey, check if one of her horseshoe nails came out badly, or something. I don't know." To Applejack, she simply began running her hoof over her mane. "Keep calm, and don't move. I've been injured a few times myself, and it's kind of like scratching an itch. Except way worse."

Applejack grunted. Rainbow wasn't sure whether that meant she'd try or not, but it was the best promise she'd get.

Big Mac looked up from examining Applejack's injured hoof with a worried look. "I don't understand..." he muttered. Rainbow frowned.

"What?"

"Splinter," he said, his voice deeper than even its usual bottom-of-the-sea pitch.

Applejack closed her eyes. "That ain't normal..." she said through gritted teeth.

Rainbow wasn't entirely sure what to say.

"A splinter?"

Big Mac nodded. "I don't believe it either, but it's right there..."

"I don't get it," Rainbow said. She turned to Applejack. "Don't move," she snapped, and got to her hooves, trotting around to Applejack's other end to get a good look. She shook her head. "You've got to be kidding."

"I know," the stallion replied. "Apples don't get splinters, but... I don't know what to tell you..."

"No," Rainbow snapped, "I mean stop being such a big baby. It's a splinter, a tiny piece of wood. I've gotten them all the time."

Big Mac shook his head. "Listen, I don't know what weird pegasi thing you got, but splinters are rare. Apples ain't had them in generations. The only time we heard 'bout them was in Granny Smith's old tales."

In the meanwhile, Applejack did her best not to move, which is difficult when two ponies are fighting over your hind leg.

"...and anyhow, we ain't got no time to argue," Big Mac said. "My sister needs medical attention."

"...get it out..." Applejack said, her face twisting in a way that would have frightened even the bravest of small foals. Rainbow shoved Big Mac out of the way, determined to settle the matter there and then.

"'Kay. I need you to keep very still, right?"

Applejack nodded.

"Good. Now, trust me. This is just going to sting a tiny bit." She looked into Applejack's eyes with the hint of a smile. "You trust me, right?"

Before Applejack had a chance to change her mind, Rainbow bit the end of the splinter sticking out the frog of her hoof, and pulled. The shard of wood slid out of the hoof with only a small amount of resistance, leaving a small, rough hole where it used to be.

Applejack winced.

"Hey, you kept still," Rainbow said, surprised. "I'd have thought you'd kick me for sure." She held up the splinter in her hoof. "See? It's out. You're all good."

"No," Big Mac said, "she ain't 'all good'."

Applejack clutched her recently 'injured' hoof, unable to quite believe the pain was over. Rainbow examined the splinter.

"Well, I suppose it was a big-ish splinter..."

"Could it have been the tree?" Applejack asked, before sniffing loudly. Rainbow tilted her head.

"Well, where else would a splinter have come from?"

"She means if the tree had meant to do that," Big Mac explained.

Rainbow rolled her eyes. "Listen, AJ, you know I l— like you, and all, but it's just a teeny, tiny splinter. It's nothing to worry about. I got my first when I was three."

"I got my first just now," Applejack muttered. "Is it... okay?"

"I dunno, sis'," Big Mac replied.

"It's just like a paper-cut. You ever got one of those?"

Applejack gave Rainbow a look. "Well, yeah, but that's different."

Rainbow frowned. "How so?"

"Apples and trees have... well, an understandin'," Applejack explained. "We take care of 'em, and help 'em grow, and in exchange they help us out."

Rainbow raised her eyebrow. "Seriously? You believe in that nonsense?" Applejack did her best to wipe her eyes, which was a strange sight for Rainbow to see. Applejack never cried. In the same way as getting mugged by a puppy, your brain failed to believe it, even when it pulled out the switch-blade. Rainbow sighed. "O...kay, so you do. Let's just get you back home, shall we?"

Throughout town, the virus of information spread. Soon, everyone who had no business knowing about Applejack's splinter condition ended up knowing, regardless of whether anypony had actually told them or not. And they knew one thing for sure: Apples didn't get splinters.

Earth ponies everywhere grumbled ominously at the news, concerned for their most successful farmpony.

"Stands to reason, dunnit?" they'd say. "Udderwise, how'd they kick 'em trees all day long without gettin' peppered wif' 'oles in their 'ooves?"

"They got a way wif' trees, they do. Them trees know what's best for 'em."

Unicorns and pegasi, however, had different opinions.

"Just a splinter, 'innit? Who knew Apples was such a crybaby?"

Rainbow, not possessing the innate instinct of what was right and wrong that the other Earth ponies had, felt squashed between opinions. She was sandwiched between wanting to tell Applejack to grow a pair (so to speak), but also sitting down and fretting alongside her friend.

In the meantime, Twilight viewed the whole thing as a mystery that needed to be solved.

"How haven't the Apples ever gotten splinters?" she asked Rainbow when the pegasus arrived at Fort Friendship. "Surely it must be an occupational hazard, what with kicking trees, raising barns, rolling barrels, fixing carts..."

Rainbow held up her hooves. "Hey, I dunno. All I know is that it's got AJ freaked out, and you know what happens when Ponyville's most reliable and cool-headed pony gets freaked."

Twilight was about to answer, but she stopped herself just in time. "Actually, I don't. I've never seen her properly freaked."

"Ponies panic. When Pinkie or Rarity or you or even me go nuts, that's just business as usual. Applejack is supposed to be steady," Rainbow replied. "And frankly, she has me worried."

"It's not like you to worry about splinters, Rainbow."

"Normally, I don't. But I also normally don't see AJ writhing in a little ball of pain in the orchard," Rainbow said. "Usually that's me when she finds me eating her crops. The world feels backwards."

Twilight went serious, lifting her nose as she pondered Rainbow's words. "You're right. I don't know why, but there's a feeling of wrong-ness in the air."

Both ponies went silent for a few moments. Rainbow could have sworn she felt the temperature decrease... and she hadn't instructed the weatherponies to chill out.

The moment was interrupted by Spike.

"That might just be Owlysius. He's been sick again."

Twilight frowned. "Well... I suppose the only thing to do is examine the subject." She gave Rainbow a determined grin. "Tell Applejack I'd like her here as soon as she's able to walk again."

Rainbow nodded. "I'll carry her myself if I have to."

"Okay, so, you just lie down and do your best not to move."

"I'm gettin' the impression I'm told to not move a whole lot more'n usual..." Applejack commented, resisting the urge to shift her weight on the uncomfortable crystal slab. Nearby, her family watched her with eyes filled with concern.

"Is she one of 'em changeling scoundrels?" Granny Smith asked. "I wouldn't have thought they could trick me so well, but my eyes are goin', and she might've been replaced..."

Applejack snorted. "I'm still the same as ever. Thanks for noticin', Granny."

"Will she be all right?" Applebloom asked, worry flooding her voice. Twilight didn't reply.

"Twilight doesn't know anything yet," Rainbow declared. "Give her a second, kiddo'. I'm sure AJ'll be fine."

"Will this mean I'll get a splinter too?" Applebloom asked. "They sound pretty scary."

"They're not so bad," Rainbow said.

Twilight took out a magnifying glass and began examining Applejack's bad hoof. It had already mostly healed: only a small dimple in the frog let her know there had been a splinter in there at all. "Well, the tissue looks normal. Given that you've never had splinters before, I'd hypothesize that this is a problem that is magical in nature."

"Magic?" Rainbow asked, groaning. "Oh, great. It couldn't just be a particularly gnarly tree?"

"From what Applejack has said, she has kicked hundreds of trees... thousands. Not once has she gotten a splinter, and let's face it, with all the construction work on her barns, it'd be a miracle without magic intervention."

Rainbow looked at the floor, eyes going dark. "I hate magic."

Big Mac had gotten over his panic earlier and returned to his strong, silent self. Twilight frowned.

"Spike! I'd like for you to fetch the Pursuit Informatio, please! I might have questions to ask it."

Spike narrowed his eyes from the corner he stood in. "Twilight, remember the last time we dealt with an intelligent book?"

Twilight rolled her eyes and nodded. "Yes, but this time will be different."

"And the time before that, when Rarity almost remade all of Ponyville into a living gala?"

"Yes, Spike, but it could be helpful."

Applejack lay on her back, unsure what or who a Pursuit Informatio was. "Um..." she began.

"Just sit still, Applejack," Twilight said, and tapped the crystal table with her hoof. No sooner did she do so, that it began to glow. There was no denying it was definitely a colour, but they could never agree what colour it was. Green? Blue? Some new colour nopony had seen or would see ever again?

The one thing they could agree on was that it was magical.

"Hey! What's that doing to AJ?" Rainbow asked. Twilight waved her hoof.

"Just examining her. Like an X-ray, but without the harmful rays. Also, it's nothing like an X-ray," she said. "The Crystal Empire sent it. It fits in perfectly in the new castle, doesn't it?"

"Just hurry up. I don't think it's normal I can see through my own skin,"Applejack grunted.

Spike hurried into the chamber with a small, hoof-sized notebook in his claws. It looked old, tattered. Maybe it had been sat on a few too many times. It also smelled, but everypony was too polite to point that out.

Twilight took the tiny book in a levitation field, and opened it.

"Okay, so... what does that mean?" Twilight muttered, scanning Applejack with a critical eye. "Huh. That's odd."

"What?"

"It's... um. Is there pegasus blood that runs in your family?" she asked Granny. The old pony shook her head.

"Nope. Never."

Twilight frowned. "Very odd indeed," she said. "What could be the cause for magic confusing a species with another?" Silence filled the room. Twilight looked up from the book, jaw hanging open. "I've never heard about that. Spike, get me the 'Rare Afflictions of Reality Bound Ponies and Plants'."

"What's with that book?" Rainbow asked.

"The Pursuit Informatio is a book that contains a portion of the fabric of the universe," Twilight said. "It acts as an encyclopaedia, of sorts. If encyclopaedias beamed knowledge to your brain without you having to actually understand the words."

Rainbow threw her hooves up. "Okay, don't tell me."

Spike returned with a book almost twice his size. "Here it is," he grunted, and slammed the book on the floor. Twilight smiled.

"Excellent, Spike. Thank you. Now, let's see here..."

"Won't ya'll tell us what's wrong with my granddaughter?!" Granny exclaimed. Twilight, with skills honed through years of being the smartest pony in the room, ignored her. She flicked through the pages with the speed of a veteran bookworm until she singled out an entry she found relevant.

"Ah ha! Looks like it's Tribe Magic Exposure," she declared. "It's when a pony's magic gets muddled. There are several possible explanations for this, among which are the magic/entropic theory and the elastic-universe theory. It's most typically caused when..." Twilight read, before trailing off. "Oh."

"What?"

"Um, nothing serious, anyway. Can I... um, speak to Applejack alone?" Granny folded her hooves. Twilight grinned, a single bead of sweat dripping down her forehead. "I assure you, it's nothing to be overly worried about."

Granny slowly turned to leave, and Big Mac and Applebloom followed instantly.

"Um, actually, can Rainbow stay?" Applejack asked. "This sounds serious."

"Well..."

"Hey, it's fine. I can keep a secret," Rainbow said, and leapt over to her friend. Twilight sighed.

"Well... fine. I guess." She ran a hoof through her mane. "See, for some reason, your inner magic is getting confused. For some reason, it's starting to think you have... pegasus bits. Whilst there are several possible causes, the most common is... um, exposure to another pony type. In this case, pegasi."

Applejack frowned. "What do you mean, exposure? And how does that make my 'magic' confused?"

"Well, see, if your family and life have a long history of being, um, 'Earth pony exclusive', then the magic of the other pony you, um... are with, starts taking over, according to the magic/entropic theory. Or if you're more into the elastic universe theory, the universe simply doesn't 'get' why you'd... explore pegasi, and is trying to fix it as best it can."

"By 'explore', you don't mean, say, in the bedroom, in private?" Rainbow asked, her brow furrowing.

Twilight nodded.

Rainbow's face fell. "Oh."

"It's not very dangerous, really," Twilight went on. "It's just that it may come with little side effects that'll affect your usual Earth pony-ness. Your body knows what it should be, even if the magic doesn't, so you won't go around spouting wings or anything. It's just... keep an eye out for small changes."

While Twilight had been talking, Applejack's hoof managed to snake around Rainbow's own. It was a small gesture Twilight only became aware of when she finished talking.

"It ain't your fault, sugar," Applejack whispered, barely loud enough for Twilight to hear.

The gears in her brain began to slowly turn, gathering momentum and kinetic energy. Eventually, they reached a conclusion.

"Oh," she said. Perhaps she could have made a more eloquent statement, but then again, she had been taken somewhat by surprise.

"...if you say so," Rainbow replied, ignoring Twilight's realization.

Twilight began to back away. "Perhaps I should leave you two alone for a bit."

"No," Applejack said. "I'd love to have a minute free to speak to Rainbow alone, but I have some questions."

Rainbow began nursing Applejack's hoof as the Earth pony sat up straight, the garish wallpaper of guilt plastered over her face. Twilight took a deep breath.

"This is going to be awkward, isn't it?" she asked. Applejack nodded.

"Sorry, sugarcube," she said. "Is there anything we can do? Like, to compromise?"

"Like, maybe do, um... less often?" Rainbow asked, before running her hoof across her face. "Horseapples, this is awkward..."

Twilight shrugged. "Maybe. By the looks of things, if it's started, the only thing that will heal it would be stopping completely—"

"That ain't an option," Applejack replied almost immediately. "We're sticking together, and that's that. Besides," she went on, “it’s either her or some other pegasus. I’m not, er…”

Twilight ran her hoof through her mane again.

“AJ is pegasexual,” Rainbow finished. “And if she doesn't want to stop, then she won’t.”

The look the pair exchanged was quick, but said more than any amount of words could convey. For the slightest sliver of a second, Twilight was jealous. Not of either of them... but of what they seemed to have.

She was also jealous of their ability to hide it. Perhaps it was simply because she hadn't been looking, or they kept it under wraps very efficiently. Either way, Twilight hadn't thought secrecy would be their strong suit.

"In that case, you might just want to do things that remind you you're an Earth pony," she said. "Farming, being around trees, being around Earth ponies..."

"I already do that," Applejack said.

"Yes, but you should maybe try... feeling it more," Twilight said. "Magic is a very odd thing. It cares less about facts and more about intent."

Applejack rubbed her chin, losing herself in thought.

"I guess those little flying trips didn't help much either, huh?" Rainbow commented. Twilight shook her head.

"Probably not."

Throughout town, the virus of information spread. Soon, everyone who had no business knowing about Applejack and Rainbow did. They might not always know how that affected Applejack's mysterious splinter, or how it begun, but they all knew that the pair weren't just on friendly terms any more.

There was annoyance: they didn't like the idea they had been duped. There was a sentiment of encouragement: ponies liked it when other ponies were happy. Not too happy, mind... happy enough that they reminded them of what they had/could have, not so much that it was obnoxious.

Meanwhile, Applejack and Rainbow pondered.

"I, uh... didn't expect our friends to find out this way," Rainbow said, quietly. "I also... um..."

Speech felt heavy and unwieldy to Rainbow. She couldn't get it to work in quite the right way. Applejack leant to her side, her body brushing against Rainbow's own.

"It's fine. I didn't know either," she said. "In fact, if Twilight didn't know, we can assume nopony did."

"Yeah, but, well..." Rainbow sighed. "I guess I feel bad. I didn't expect things to be this way."

Applejack turned her eyes towards her downcast partner. The pegasus wasn't even looking down at her hooves. She was just looking... away. Somewhere else. Applejack wrapped her hoof around her waist and pulled her close, Rainbow's back pressing against her chest and stomach.

"Y'know, a few months ago we wouldn't have guessed any of this'd happen," Applejack said, pressing her lips against Rainbow's neck. "I'm fine with one or two side effects."

"Yeah, but... you know you don't have to do this if you don't want to, right?"

Applejack buried her muzzle into Rainbow's mane. "I don't back down from challenges."

"I know. I just don't want you getting hurt or anything," Rainbow said. "That'd just be uncool."

"Hurt?" Applejack asked, snickering. "Sugar', you said so yourself: it was just a splinter." She tightened her grip, Rainbow's fur and flesh rubbing against her own. "I've been hurt worse."

Elsewhere... or rather, everywhere, the universe stretched. Stretched to allow for something that didn't make sense.

How long until it snapped?

Author's Note

I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. Believe me when I say that it gets stranger. Chapter two is already up!

Out of context line from the next chapter:

I'm staying away from your butt for a while. By the sounds of things, you could stick a fully armed ninja in there.

Feel free to comment, and upvote. Both will help me loads. Have a good one!

Eggs

Applejack shifted her weight as she felt a soft, heavy weight press against her body from above. She drifted in and out of consciousness. One minute she'd be feeling light as a feather, uplifted by the breath of another brushing against her cheeks and mane. The next, she'd feel the sensation of muscles and bone was crushing the breath from her lungs.

She began to sweat under the oppressive weight and warmth. The heat built up under her skin, and she became more aware of her senses. Smell began to become a factor. She could smell armpit and morning breath in equal measures, made worse by the heat. The sensation of dampness intensified.

She began to hear things. The gentle, silent, small sound of air escaping nostrils. Her ears, ticklish to everything, began to flicker as somepony's mane brushed against the insides...

She opened her eyes, awareness of her surroundings returning.

Crushing her from above was Rainbow Dash, sleeping soundly.

She wasn't just taking snuggling to the extreme. She wasn't simply draped over Applejack like a blanket. That, she could deal with. Instead, Rainbow was positioned in the same way as a cat indifferent to the fact that the thing it was sleeping on was alive might. She wobbled a little every time Applejack breathed in and out, and her weight, her weight, made each breath a struggle. As if Rainbow didn't even care for Applejack's sleep.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Since the pair had begun sleeping in the same place regularly, Rainbow had gone from a loud and boisterous snorer to a silent and pleasant sleeper. She had seamlessly adapted to lying next to another live creature... and it had all been for Applejack.

So why, oh, Celestia why was she precariously balanced on top of Applejack? She wasn't a cushion to be sat on!

It wasn't normal. It shouldn't even be comfortable for Rainbow. She looked ready to topple at any moment.

Applejack's mind was made up. She was uncomfortable: she was going to move.

She moved her pelvis to the left with a short, sharp, violent motion, and Rainbow slid to the side... only to unfold, prepared for Applejack trying to escape. Her fore-hooves drifted up Applejack's coat towards her shoulders, and her hind legs slid against the disgruntled sleeper's body. Her waist and lower body pressed against Applejack's own.

Rainbow's eyes drifted open with the speed of a fat, pampered cat. They gave Applejack a look that, had she received late at night in a bar, would have caused her to immediately put down her drink, tip the bartender and take her home for cuddles and cake.

"Morning," Rainbow cooed.

Applejack was so flustered by the smooth, slick, and downright sleazy movements of Rainbow's athletic, taut body against hers that she completely forgot to complain about her sleeping habits.

"Uh..." she replied, eloquent as ever.

"...and, well, I didn't say anything," Applejack finished, tossing yet another slice of apple into her mouth. "But it's weird, ain't it? Ponies sleep with other ponies, not on them. And certainly not like that."

Rarity took a sip from her morning orange juice, and gave an unhelpful shrug. "Perhaps Rainbow is simply a little odd, dear. She certainly has other strange habits."

Applejack folded her forelegs. "Yeah, well, those at least make some kind of sense. Like her drinkin' ice cold water before goin' to bed to 'cool down her system'. That ain't normal, but I can kinda' twist my brain to make it work." She drank some of her coffee in between confused ranting. "That... just looked uncomfortable. But it weren't! I moved, and she just sort of slid into a normal position, business as usual."

"Maybe it's subconscious," Rarity suggested. "For example, when I work, I always tap my hoof. I don't even notice I'm doing it." She frowned. "Except, I suppose I do, because how else would I know about it? Hmm. How strange."

Applejack tapped her chin. "Maybe, Rares'. But I ain't ever heard of this kind of subconscious behaviour."

"It could just be a pegasus thing," Rarity said. "This wouldn't be the first time you've had difficulties adapting to life with a pegasus."

Applejack remembered only too well. She had to wear special shoes while tree-bucking now. "Perhaps. Maybe I should find some pegasi and ask 'em."

"Why not Rainbow?"

"She might get upset I don't like her usin' me as a mattress."

Rarity shrugged. "Or you could get over it. Maybe with time, you could enjoy it."

Applejack snickered. "No thanks: I like breathin' when I sleep."

Rarity gave Applejack a nonplussed stare. "You know, I remember taking care of Sweetie Belle when she was a foal. Eventually you might have to deal with the fact that things will sit on you."

Applejack snorted, and returned Rarity's stare with one of her own. "Rarity, you know as well as I do that ain't happening. We ain't equipped for that."

Raritty shrugged. "Well, if you're set on this, you could just ask Twilight. She isn't a Pegasus, but she'll probably know something about subconscious behaviour."

"I was gonna' ask Flutters."

"Yes, but Fluttershy gets awfully embarrassed when you talk about, well, sleeping. With her best friend." Rarity leaned forwards. "It makes her feel a bit awkward."

"Well, she'll have to get over it," Applejack said. "Twilight's out doin' some research on... what'd she call it?"

"Universe Theory something-or-other. Apparently she's having a lot of fun with the Pursuit Informatio."

Applejack shrugged. "I don't trust that book of hers. Magical books are always trouble."

Rarity knew only too well. "Yes, I am aware. Still, I'm sure Twilight will take the necessary precautions."

Applejack sighed. "Well... this'll be yet another awkward day in the life of Applejack the farmer, eh?"

"Hardly. It's still better than that time you thought sombreros were a good idea."

Applejack gave Rarity a death-glare that would have made a basilisk jealous. "We never speak of that. Do we, Rarity?"

Rarity sipped her juice again. "Speak of what, my dear?"

Applejack returned to her morning snack with her friend, watching her with a wary eye. "That's right," she warned. "Ain't nothin' to speak of."

After Applejack explained her position (and Rainbow's) to Fluttershy, she did feel awkward. It was the sort of awkwardness that spread across the room and spilled out into the street, leaving passers-by wondering why they felt the need to wear an extra layer or two.

"So, um, I was hoping you might tell me about pegasi sleepin' habits." Fluttershy did not reply. She was probably too busy wishing she was somewhere else. Applejack sighed. "C'mon, it's either that or I have to go and hurt Rainbow's feelings. I'd rather not do that. Just a little info'd be helpful, is all."

Fluttershy sighed.

"Um, okay," she began. "Well, it's not like every pegasus does this..."

Applejack folded her forelegs, listening intently.

"...but we rather like wrapping our partners in our... um, wings," she went on. "We have very sensitive wings, see, and it's very... nice."

Applejack nodded. "Yes, I noticed that. But that ain't what's happenin'. She literally lyin' on top of me, like some kind of guldarn' cat."

Fluttershy bit her lip. "Yes, um... are you sure Rainbow'd be happy with you telling me all this?"

"Nope," Applejack replied. "Which is why you're not gonna' tell her."

"Oh... right. Of course."

"So, about her sittin' on me..."

"Ah, yes, right... This one is more like motherly instinct, actually."

Applejack widened her eyes. "Rainbow's got one of those?"

"It looks like it," Fluttershy answered. "See, most pegasi instinctively try to keep their eggs warm during incubation period. It's quite common for us to... well, extend that to other things we think, ah, are precious."

Applejack's mouth hung open at the word 'egg'.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

Fluttershy swallowed. "pegasi try to keep their eggs—"

"There," Applejack said. "You said it again. 'Egg'. Why're you usin' that word?"

Fluttershy widened her eyes.

"Oh dear," she said. "Don't you know where baby pegasi come from?"

When Applejack returned home, she had a look of unadulterated horror on her face. Rainbow was waiting for her in their room, book between her hooves as she lay on the bed. She was slouched on her back, and Applejack's eyes were instinctively drawn downwards.

For the first time since she had started going out with Rainbow, her rump and assorted parts failed to look attractive.

Eggs come out of there, she thought, shuddering.

"Hey, AJ," Rainbow greeted, folding her page and tossing the book to the side. "'Sup?"

"I," Applejack began, "learned the strangest thing today."

Rainbow's ears perked up. "Oh? Like what? New rodeo in town?"

"Apparently, pegasi lay eggs."

Rainbow hesitated. The conversation seemed to hold its breath.

"Um, yeah? Doesn't everypony?"

Applejack shook her head, eyes still wide. "No, sugarcube. No we don't."

Rainbow frowned. "So... how does that work then?"

"The, uh, foals come out... normally. Like, they're born as babies, and... come with all the right bits attached. Without being in an egg," Applejack explained, putting an emphasis on the word 'normally'. Rainbow's mouth curled in distaste.

"What, like pigs and dogs and stuff?"

Applejack nodded. "Like normal animals, yes."

"That's gross," Rainbow replied, her own eyes widening too. "Like, really gross." She gasped. "Oh, sweet Celestia! Is that why sometimes there are those mares that get really cross at me when I call them fat?!"

"You called 'em fat? No wonder Daffodil ain't talkin' to us no more!"

"Hey, I only ever said it behind their backs! It's just Daffodil heard me!"

"That don't make it right," Applejack countered. "But before I forget: layin' eggs sounds disgustin'. Like... a bug or somethin'."

"More birdish than buggish, actually," Rainbow corrected. "It's just nature, AJ. No need to be creeped out by it."

"You were creeped out by our way not five minutes ago!"

"Yeah, but that was creepy nature."

"Eggs are worse. If they crack, they'll just... go everywhere," Applejack said, cringing. "And it's worse'n that, 'cause that's somepony's kid."

"Better than somepony's kid getting squeezed out of their butt. Honestly, how do you even fit through there with all the legs and stuff?"

"I'm told it's painful," Applejack replied.

"Besides, eggs are super practical. You can carry them around, take them to work, sit on them while you do your bills..." She looked at Applejack from hoof to withers. "You guys just get fat, then poop out a pony."

The pair fell into silence as they failed to stop themselves picturing their partners giving birth in their respective ways. Neither liked the mental image it provided.

"Okay. It's fine," Applejack said. "This is just something we'll have to deal with, ain't it?"

Rainbow snorted. "Says you. I'm staying away from your butt for a while. By the sounds of things, you could stick a fully armed ninja in there."

Applejack narrowed her eyes.

"I said, this is just something we'll have to deal with, ain't it?"

Rainbow caught the not so subtle threat of imminent violence in her tone. "Right... yeah. We can work past this."

Applejack nodded. "Yup. And I have the best idea," she declared. "I am going to repress this whole conversation as best I can. When, or if, we decide to cross that bridge, we'll... do something."

Rainbow pursed her lips. "Repress it?"

"Repress everything. Besides, we're two mares. We can't actually have kids, now, can we?"

Rainbow looked away. "Um..." she began. Applejack rolled her eyes.

"What else don't I know?"

"...well, uh... unlike most birds, pegasi don't actually need stallions to hatch eggs...?" she said, tentatively. Applejack went quiet. "It's just that... uh, it improves chances and stuff. It's more about... um... having the sex without actually needing the, uh, relevant parts. But if it's with a stallion, it increases the chances of a successful hatch by, like... loads."

Rainbow looked over at Applejack, a sheepish look in her eye, and waited for the inevitable explosion of indignation. 'How could you not tell me' was among one of the many questions Rainbow expected to be asked.

No questions came. Instead, Applejack began to breathe heavily and sat herself down on the floor. Her breathing accelerated, and her expression was blank as a sheet of paper. Rainbow sat up straight, disturbed by Applejack's unexpected reaction to her last statement.

Getting cross at not knowing was one thing. Running a hoof through her mane and shaking her head in disbelief was another. Looking like she was about to pass out? Rainbow didn't see that one coming.

"You okay?"

"We can... we can have kids after all?" she asked. "But I didn't think you could if..."

"You can," Rainbow said. "It's just not likely."

"Huh." Applejack breathed in, a smile spreading across her face. "I didn't think I'd... even have a chance..."

Rainbow bounced onto the floor next to Applejack. "You're not mad?"

"I'm... I dunno," Applejack answered. "I spent most of my life thinkin' I'd never have foals of my own. I don't know what to think now you're tellin' me..."

Rainbow held her hooves up. "Hey now, let's not get ahead of ourselves. It's barely been a year. Way too soon for that kind of talk."

Applejack slowly nodded, and smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, absolutely. I'm just... boy, I got a lot to think about."

Rainbow grinned. "Okay then," she said. "Do you mind the whole egg-deal a bit less now?"

Applejack snorted. "Don't get me wrong, it still sounds completely unnatural, but... Maybe later down the line..." She looked down at the ground, and in a tiny voice, said "...worth it."

Twilight sat alone. Spike was nowhere to be seen. He'd be downstairs, Twilight reckoned, getting some late-night snack before he went to sleep. The silence of the room was deafening. It soaked up all the noise around her, leaving her suffocating without sound.

Twilight looked down at the Pursuit Informatio. The book had answered small questions. Little things. 'What colour is the ball I'm holding'. 'Where is the ninth volume of Vector Velocity's treatise on rocket-powered pegasi'. Twilight regretted asking that one. Apparently, there were over a thousand copies of that specific volume. And now she knew the location of each and every one.

Now it was time for some harder questions.

Twilight licked her lips. There was a reason Spike wasn't there. Sometimes, magical books did things. Knowledge was omnipresent in this universe filled with magic, and she knew it had influence. If she acquired too much of it... She might as well go walking around a forest at hunting season with a goose taped to your head.

"What," she asked, "is the most powerful force in the universe?"

To her surprise, her surroundings were still in existence during the moments that followed. She made a small note on a pile of papers next to her. Doesn't destroy reality when asked complex questions. Try harder next time?

The Pursuit Informatio displayed only a single line of text, delivered directly to the part of her brain that always knew things.

Twilight repeated it aloud.

"...force of habit?" she muttered.

"Okay... you ready for sleep?"

"I can't believe I'm goin' along with this."

"Hey, it's just how we are. It's super comfortable," Rainbow said. "I'm glad you're willing to give it a shot."

"Just let me get comfy first," Applejack replied, and threw a thin sheet over herself, settling into position. "Okay... let's do this."

Rainbow's wings fluttered as she prepared herself. With a single, powerful beat, she was in the air, gliding around in a circle until she landed daintily upon Applejack's prone body. "Hey, it's pretty cool that I can do this without it happening while I'm sleeping."

"Just sit yourself down and let's get to sleep."

Rainbow curled in on herself, her wings and body hugging Applejack tightly. Applejack took a deep breath: her lungs were put under a bit more strain than they were used to.

"You okay down there?"

"Trouble breathing," Applejack replied. Rainbow frowned.

"Huh. How about if I move... here?"

Applejack felt the pressure on her stomach lessen. Her breath came smoothly now. She tilted her head to the side. "Huh. Actually, I feel okay." She lifted her head to get a good look at Rainbow. "How 'bout yoursel—"

But Rainbow was already fast asleep.

Author's Note

Looks like pegasi are more bird than pony, if little old me is to be believed.

Out of context line from the next chapter:

"Exactly. So keep your bodacious mouth shut until then, okay?"

Feel free to comment and upvote. The final half of the story will be released tomorrow once it's gone through one final reread, so be sure to check it out if you enjoyed the first two chapters.

Fishes

The letters were beginning to pile up on Twilight's desk. Some of them were letters regarding friendship. When she thought about what an authority she had become on friendship since her arrival, she smiled. But those weren't the majority of the letters.

Most of them were regarding her recent lectures and speeches about the Universe Theory of Elasticity... a theory she had taken great steps towards explaining and even proving. She was so close... and it was all thanks to the Pursuit Informatio.

"If force of habit is the most powerful force in the universe... then realistically, at the beginning of time, any manner of things could have happened. Gravity might not have worked the same way," she said to herself whilst writing down her thoughts on paper. "When you drop a ball, it only goes down because that's what it's always done... like a bad habit, it can't stop itself."

So what, Twilight wondered, would happen if the universe broke a habit?

Just about anything, right?

The elasticity of the universe stretches to accommodate things that it doesn't like... but the less it likes them, the harder you have to pull. No wonder change comes slowly: the very fabric of the universe is holding it back, she thought.

Twilight looked over at the Pursuit Informatio. She had one more experiment she wanted to try... one that she hadn't dared attempt.

Her hoof hovered over the book.

"Perhaps later," she said.

"Ow!" Rainbow exclaimed, her hoof covering the top of her head in an effort to protect it. "Stupid... whotsit!"

Applejack's ears flickered at the sound of Rainbow's cry of pain, and she turned towards her partner. She was nursing a brand new bruise on her head, and a small piece of roofing lay at her hooves. "You all right there, sugar?"

Rainbow kicked the piece of roofing tile angrily. "Yeah, I'm fine. Y'know, aside from the big bump on my head because your house is falling apart."

Applejack looked up at her roof with a critical eye. "It looks like it always done," she said.

"Yeah, it does. That's exactly the problem. This house is a death-trap: I've had three separate accidents in the past week."

Applejack shrugged. "Maybe you're just a bit clumsy?"

Rainbow's face contorted beyond what anatomy should allow for in order to convey exactly how livid she was becoming. "I just hurt my head, and now I'm clumsy?!"

Applejack sighed. "Okay, okay. Let's get you some ice first, and we'll get back to fightin' later," she said, trotting towards Rainbow. "Time out?"

Rainbow imitated a kettle about to boil, fuming and wobbling, about to burst. After a moment, she calmed herself down, and got to her hooves. "It better be really good ice."

"I can promise you really cold ice," Applejack replied. Rainbow grunted.

"It's a start."

The pair made their way inside, Rainbow still prodding and rubbing the big purple bump on the side of her skull. Once they got to the kitchen, Applejack tossed her a bag of ice they kept for drinks and storage. Rainbow quickly slapped the wet, cold bag on her injury and sat down.

"You still look pretty upset," Applejack commented. Rainbow grunted, and held up her hoof: there was a large plaster sticking to her fur. She then pointed to her hind leg, where another bruise has spread across her shin.

"It's just this place has become a real battlefield lately," Rainbow said. "How long until the trees start eating me whole?"

"Trees don't eat ponies," Applejack retorted. "In fact, nothing eats ponies. Not a lot, at least. We're pretty much at the top of the food chain around here."

Rainbow chuckled. "Yeah... you're right about that." She adjusted her bag of ice in a businesslike manner. "It's been, what, twenty years since the last actual hydra casualty? Anyway... I didn't just come down to the farm to get my head bashed in and chat for a bit. I actually had a reason this time."

"Had to happen eventually," Applejack replied.

"I couldn't help but notice that it has been well over a year since we started hanging out in private and doing private things," Rainbow said. "And somepony... not that I'm pointing hooves... might have completely forgot until now."

Applejack's heart sank in her chest. "Well... you forgot too!"

"That's why I'm not pointing hooves. Hooves are pointed at the ground," Rainbow replied. "Anyway... I managed to wrestle a favour from Thunderlane..."

"What'd you have to do?" Applejack interrupted.

"I just said. Wrestle. Anyway, he knows a stallion who knows a mare who knows a griffon who owns this nice little restaurant out in the country, about an hour away," Rainbow said. "And I thought that nothing could be cooler or more awesome than a seriously expensive meal followed by looking at stars and stuff with a bottle of wine or three."Rainbow lifted the ice-bag from her head and stroked her bruise for a second. "You in?"

"Rainbow," Applejack began, "you have a way of makin' a romantic evenin' sound a trip to a hoofball game." She grinned. "'Course I'm in."

Rainbow grinned. "Sweet. Also, I have a thing for you."

Applejack's eye raised. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," Rainbow went on, and searched her wings before she pulled out a small cardboard box. "I got this from an old buddy's buddy. I thought it could help with your not-being-an-Earth-pony-any-more problem."

She tossed it over to Applejack. She looked at it for a moment, then tore it open with her teeth, revealing the sleek, shiny metal body of a harmonica. Applejack chuckled.

"I ain't seen one of these since I was a kid. I thought you only found 'em down south."

"Well, I figured that the only thing more Earth pony than a cowpony playing a harmonica at sunset around a bunch of trees is... well, it's very Earth pony, that's for sure."

Applejack smiled. "Well, that's one thing, I suppose. But I ain't makin' much progress on the other fronts."

Rainbow rolled her eyes. "Did Twilight give you an earful last time she checked your magic thingie?"

"Not quite an earful. Apparently, me bein' open to ponies layin' eggs and all that just messed it up more."

Rainbow groaned. "This is ridiculous. What? The closer we get, the more messed up you become?"

"Something like that," Applejack said. "Then Twilight began babblin' about rubber bands for some reason."

"But I haven't started to feel weird. I can still touch clouds fine, and I'm flying faster than ever."

Rainbow tossed the bag of ice back in the freezer, a deep frown creasing her face. Applejack twirled the harmonica in her hooves.

"Well, thanks. I'll make good use of it," she said. "In fact, I could bring it to our little date this evenin'. Have some music to go with the starlight."

Rainbow nodded. "Yeah, sounds cool. The night sure does get quiet. Y'know, aside from the crickets and the leaves and stuff. It's actually pretty noisy."

Applejack snickered. "Sometimes, yeah." She looked back out the window at the rows upon rows of apple trees outside. "Listen, sugar, I'd love to stay and chat, but I got work, and I'm guessin' you do too."

Rainbow rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, if you're going to bring that up..."

"I guess I am," Applejack said, and gave Dash a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks so much for the harmonica. And the date."

"Pshht. I'm only in this for the awesome meal," Rainbow replied with a sly smile. "It's not like I l— like you, or anything."

Applejack snickered. "Well, I'll meet you here at...?"

"Six."

"Six it is, then." Applejack trotted out the door. "Don't be late, sugar'."

Later, when Rainbow was safely in the skies, hidden amongst the clouds, she let out a long sigh.

"Jeez. Almost let out the L-word," she muttered to herself. She rolled onto her back, playing with a small tuft of cloud. "Don't want to let that one slip before this evening, do we, Dashster?"

"No, of course not," Rainbow replied. "Then we'd blow the whole meaning of a super-sweet date, right?"

"Exactly. So keep your bodacious mouth shut until then, okay?"

"Hey, sure. Whatever you say."

"I do say. Anyway, we have, like, a dozen cumuli that are in completely the wrong place because somepony got the map upside down."

"Hey, it wasn't me."

"Yeah, I know. I was there," Rainbow snapped. She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, let's fix it up before six. AJ admires punctuality, after all."

Applejack rolled the harmonica in between her hooves as she thought. She wasn't usually a slow thinker. She liked to react to things quickly, and deal with them before they got out of hoof. But not Rainbow... no, Applejack took her time with anything to do with Rainbow. Some things deserved a little more thought.

"Three accidents in a week ain't right," she muttered. "She mustn't be suited for farm life." She chuckled. "Maybe she shouldn't have moved in so soon. Give 'er time to get used to all the tools and dangers lurkin' around." Applejack then snorted loudly, dismissing any worry or concern she might have had. "Pfft. What am I, her ma? She's a tough pony. She'll figure it all out on her own, I know it."

Applejack gave the harmonica a quiet blow, and the metallic sound flooded her ears, bringing back a wealth of memories from years gone by. Evenings sat on an older pony's lap as soft music played, and the scent of apples filled the air. Applejack closed her eyes.

"Thanks, sugarcube," she muttered, and got back to work.

Six o'clock came slowly, and when it did, it looked and felt more like eight o'clock.. The sun had gone down early, and the pinkish-orange light basked the countryside in a magical, natural light.

Applejack felt the heavy weight of the harmonica against her skin. It made waiting feel different than usual, somehow. She had spent a lot of her time waiting for Dash in the past. First, her stomach was a battlefield for butterflies as the excitement of discovering romance began. Then it turned into a comfortable, but heart-warming sensation that overtook her. A wave of happiness in the middle of an ocean. Lately it had felt quieter, less important, but still beautiful. It was like going home.

Not today. Today felt special, and Applejack didn't know why.

One gust of wind later, and she smiled.

"Okay, AJ... ready to head out?" Rainbow asked.

Au Trot was, much to Applejack's surprise, not a grand, expensive gold-plated restaurant. In fact, was more of an airy cottage than one of the temples of fine dining she had expected from pictures and Rarity's tales. It was outside, mostly, with grapes and vines hanging overhead. Candlelight illuminated the light wooden furniture just enough to see both the meal and her partner, but very little else. The breeze rustled through the trees and insects chirped in the distance.

She imagined this is what Sweet Apple Acres would be if it was worth a million bits. Homely, but one visit would be worth a holiday.

"Pretty sweet, huh?" Rainbow commented. "This is my first time here, but my manager says they do a mean corn-steak."

Applejack nodded. "It's pretty special," she admitted. "We should come here for some of our other fake anniversaries."

"Or we could remember the real ones next time," Rainbow said. She flicked open the menu with her hoof. "Oh, by the way, there are, like, loads of cool things in here, so take as long as you want to choose."

Applejack raised her eyebrow. "As long as I want, huh?"

"Well... not too long," Rainbow admitted, realizing what that might entail. Waiting was not her forte.

"I thought so," Applejack said, and began browsing the menu herself. "This place sure is wonderful," she commented.

As a nearby waiter approached, Rainbow grinned. "Drinks?" she asked. Applejack nodded.

"Plenty."

Rainbow quickly ordered their finest wine, with a grin that would make a maniac with too much money jealous the whole while. Applejack reckoned this was the first time she was really cut loose and unleashed the full might of her spending money on anything. Applejack was well aware how much disposable income Rainbow had. Her job came with a significant amount of benefits.

When Rainbow went back to scanning the menu, she gave a small yelp of surprise. "No way! They have western pegasi meals!"

"Are they rare?"

"You never see them on the surface. I mean, down here," Rainbow said. "So, yeah. I haven't had a traditional meal for years."

"Huh. Well, why don't you get one?"

Rainbow nodded. "I will. It'll be fun."

Applejack smiled. "I'm tempted by the oak-smoked southern vegetables, myself."

"Sounds sweet," Rainbow said. Her eyes glazed over as she seemed to take her time to think through her next few words. Applejack caught the expression and raised her eyebrow.

"You good?"

"I'm... uh, well, there's a reason I did this little not-really-anniversary thing," Rainbow said, folding the menu over. "It's, um, just that, ah..."

"Spit it out," Applejack said, her voice edged with humour. "I didn't know I was on a date with Fluttershy."

"Shut up, I'm talking. So, well, we've been through some tougher things than we expected, right? You've had your weird 'condition', and then we moved in together, which made things even weirder. In fact, the things you Earth ponies do are beyond me."

The waiter approached their table with the silence of silk. "Your order, ladies?"

"The southern vegetable board," Applejack said. "And then the potatoes with daffodil butter. Thanks."

"I'll take the fruits de mer salad and the grilled halibut with peach and pepper salsa," Rainbow said, before returning her attention to Applejack. "Well, it's been some weird mix of awesome and scary all at once, and there were at least five moments when you could have ditched me and that'd have been legit. I mean, we're not exactly similar, right?"

Applejack was about to comment on their competitions and stubbornness, but Rainbow went on regardless.

"So, I guess what I'm saying is I'm super-glad you didn't. 'Cause... I think I really lik— love you, and I'd like for us to keep being together."

Applejack swallowed. Her eyes felt dry from keeping them open so long, drowning in Rainbow's gaze. Her throat felt dry as she held her breath, suffocating from Rainbow's declaration.

"I didn't think you'd be the type to go for fancy confessions of love like this, sugar," she said. Rainbow shrugged.

"It's a special day, right? It's our fake-aversary. I figured I'd make an effort."

Applejack snickered. "That's real sweet," she said. "I—"

"The vegetable platter?"

Applejack's eyes were drawn towards the tall, impeccably dressed waiter. "Oh, uh... that'd be me," she stammered. "That was mighty quick."

Another well-to-do pony approached Rainbow. "We aim for excellency," he said. To Rainbow, he added "The wine, ma'am."

"Aw, yeah!" Rainbow exclaimed. "Bring it."

Rainbow made a magnificent display of smelling the wine and swirling it around the glass before tasting a small amount. To everypony but Applejack, she looked like she was taking it incredibly seriously. Then again, maybe the waiters did know she was making fun, and simply remained quiet about it.

Or maybe she was taking it seriously. Applejack had already been surprised twice that day, after all.

"Awesome," Rainbow declared. "That is definitely wine."

"Very observant, miss," the waiter replied. "And your salad?"

Applejack peered at the bowl of strange fruit and plants of the like she had never seen before. She widened her eyes. She hadn't seen any fruit with dark black shells or pinkish colours, and certainly not that shape. She burned with curiosity.

"That pegasus food?"

"Yup," Rainbow replied, breaking one of the... things... out of its... shell? "To be honest, though, you probably won't like them."

Applejack gave the fruit one last look before tucking into her own meal. "You're probably right. I ain't really the adventurous sort when it comes to dinner."

Rainbow snorted, still scooping out the insides of one of the black things. "You've done a few adventurous things."

"Not at the dinner table, though," Applejack retorted. Rainbow smirked.

"There was that one time, though..."

"We ain't talkin' about that," Applejack replied, murder in her eyes. "If any of my family find that out there'll be hell to pay."

Rainbow grinned ear to ear. "Jeez, this is delicious."

"You look like you're enjoyin' it," Applejack said, before a question hit her. "Tell me, what kind of a vegetable is a 'halibut'?"

"It's not actually a vegetable," Rainbow replied. "It's a type of fish."

Applejack practically spat out her vegetables at the mention of the word 'fish'. Wiping her mouth she spluttered "Fish? As in, the animals that live in the sea?"

Rainbow kept on chewing whatever it was she was eating. Applejack began to get a nauseating suspicion regarding what 'fruit de mer' might be.

Her attention was drawn to Rainbow's teeth, which had always seemed sharper than her own. Her eyes fell to the squishy, messy grease that got slurped down her gullet. Her ears became attuned to the sound of gristle crunch and slide against Rainbow's molars and gums.

"Yeah. Those ones," Rainbow replied, picking up one of the oddly shaped pink things. She snapped it open, revealing its white, gruesome insides. What might have been a face twisted and groaned from the stress.

Applejack's stomach turned. "You mean live animals?"

Rainbow began to frown. "Yes, I mean fish. What's so hard to understand about it? pegasi, griffons, and hundreds of other species eat fish."

The whitish mess crunched as Rainbow snapped it up. The hollow, empty coffin of a carcass fell back to the plate.

Applejack's reaction was quick and unthinking. "That's monstrous!"

Applejack was wide-eyed and wild. Shock and disgust were bludgeoning her ability to reason, impairing her thought process and hiding the expression of hurt Rainbow returned. "Hey! It's not..."

"It ain't right," Applejack went on, her brain still scrambled by years of respecting animal life, whatever that life might be. "Animals have just as much right to live as we do!"

"What, and plants aren't alive either?" Rainbow retorted. "You're the one who keeps on naming your trees and treating them like they're 'real', but as soon as you need a new barn, it's out with the axes and down with the orchard."

"That's completely different! Plants and trees aren't smart enough to be aware!" Applejack rationalized. Rainbow's frown went from surprised and hurt to angry.

"What, and fish are intellectuals? Hey, here's a thought," she snapped, "ever wonder where Fluttershy gets her food for birds and beavers? Or her bears?"

"They're animals," Applejack replied. "It's their natural diet."

"Well, I'm an animal too," Rainbow growled. "And I hate to break it to you, but fish is part of a pegasus’ natural diet. We spend weeks flying over..." Rainbow caught Applejack's unmoving expression, and ground to a halt. "Y'know what? I can't believe you'd do this today."

Rainbow shot to her hooves and spun to leave, leaving Applejack flinching at her furious motions. Each feather bristled, and her hooves trembled with what seemed a cross between anger and devastation. Before she left, Rainbow snatched her plate up and took it with her.

Applejack was too shell-shocked to make a sound.

Spike yawned. Seven o'clock was late when you woke up near five in the morning. As far as the little dragon was concerned, now was the time for beds, pyjamas, and the soothing sounds of the night sailing him to dragon-dreamland.

The clock tick-tocked as he trudged up the crystal stairs. First things first: he'd tell Twilight he was heading to bed. If he didn't, who knows if she'd run around looking for him, shouting at the top her her little pony lungs (which had a considerable amount of power, for some reason), which would wake him up again. And Spike did not want to get woken up.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, just as tired as the dragon trapped inside it was. This happened every evening, Spike noticed. The clock moved slower, letting him soak up the last little scraps of the day up before he left it behind.

"Twilight," he called, entering the little princess's study. "I'm heading to bed."

Twilight did not reply. Instead, she sat staring at the Pursuit Informatio with a blank expression painted on her face. Like she wasn't really there any more.

Spike tilted his head. "Hey, did you hear me?"

There was still no reply. The room seemed to close in on him. Spike felt trapped inside the magician's coffin of a room, and he'd only be able to escape if he knew the special trick. And Spike, being Spike, was clueless.

He narrowed his eyes, concern welling up inside him as the room's constrictor snake of an atmosphere tightened its grip, crushing the life from everypony inside. "Twilight!"

He rushed over to his friend, realizing her eyes were raw from not blinking. He wrapped his tiny claws around her wings and pulled, dragging her away from the book with all the strength a baby dragon could muster.

Twilight fell straight back, stiff as a plank of wood, landing on Spike with a heavy thump. Spike coughed.

"Twilight!"

Twilight shook her head, dispelling whatever had previously occupied her mind. "Blueberries," she exclaimed, and rolled off her helper, clutching her stomach. "B-bedroom blaster?"

Spike looked up at his friend from all fours. "Are you okay?" Twilight threw up a billiard ball. "That'd be a no?"

"I... b-b-b... I asked the book a hard question..."

Spike shut the Informatio with his tail, taking care not to look directly at its pages. "Twilight, you must stop playing with that thing. Magic books are dangerous! What did you ask it?"

Twilight fell on her side, all her energy spent. "I asked it what I'd be doing in ten minutes... an hour ago. It... it couldn't work it out, and it just... it..."

Spike swallowed. "Twilight, do not open that book again. Not before you know what you're doing."

"I... I underestimated it. It won't happen again..."

"No," Spike warned. "It won't."

Applejack sat in silence, picking at her vegetable platter. Hunger gnawed at her stomach almost as much as guilt and frustration tore at her heart. Frustration at not being able to reconcile her romantic partner eating meat and being such an amazing pony, and guilt at having not been able to keep her feelings quiet for just five minutes.

"I wish she could understand," Applejack muttered to herself. "This ain't like her laying eggs or anything. I've been brought up a certain way. I can't just throw that aside."

Still, she thought, I shouldn't have called it monstrous.

Applejack held her head in her hooves, racking her brain for any kind of solution. Even a temporary fix would be worthwhile. Anything.

But no matter how hard she thought, her answers boiled down to her changing, or Rainbow changing. And neither struck her as very fair. Why should she change any more than she already had? She couldn't buck apples the same way as before. She had learned to get slept on, despite not being keen to be treated as some kind of orange mattress. Hadn't she compromised enough?

And it felt just as unfair asking Rainbow to compromise too.

"It's not fair," she grumbled. "It's just not fair."

Then again, life rarely was.

Was this it, then? The first time they'd fight for real? Applejack swallowed. It wasn't the right time for a fight. This was supposed to be a happy day. A day when they enjoyed being together, just for the sake of being together. It wasn't planned.

"Are you finished, miss?" asked the waiter. She nodded.

"Uh, yeah," she said. "Listen, I'm going to disappear for a bit. Just hold the second course for a bit, will you?"

"Of course."

Applejack smiled, and got to her hooves. Time to find Rainbow.

Applejack knew where she'd have gone. She just had to find the darkest spot near the restaurant, probably near a tree. Rainbow was very predictable when upset. She liked trees, and she liked being in the dark.

When Applejack got close enough, it was just a matter of following the sound of sniffles.

"Hey," Applejack called, keeping her voice soft and forgiving. She had heard Rainbow cry before, but not once had it been because of her. It felt just as bad as treading on a puppy's paw. "You there?"

"No," Rainbow replied, nearly choking on such a simple word. She was utterly hidden in darkness, invisible. Applejack couldn't even make out a faint outline: all she knew was where her voice came from, but shadows concealed her expression and body.

On the other hand, Rainbow could probably make out her own expression perfectly, Applejack reasoned.

Right, she thought to herself. Here goes nothing. "I'm sorry."

The apology did nothing to stem the sounds of a tearful pegasus. "I don't care," she snapped.

"You just took me by surprise," Applejack said, not about to give up anytime soon. "I've been brought up to think that eating animals is wrong, see? It was just a knee jerk reaction."

Not being able to see Rainbow made things all the harder, Applejack realized. If she could gauge Rainbow's expression, maybe she could say something better... something kinder.

"Yeah, which is why I know what you said was what you thought," Rainbow replied. "You thought I was some kind of monster."

"I didn't mean that."

"Yes you did."

Well, she has me there.

"Yes, well, I didn't mean to say it that way."

Rainbow didn't reply. All Applejack could hear was halted breathing coming out in short, sharp bursts.

Dammit, what have I done?

"Rainbow, can't we talk?"

"It was the way you looked at me," Rainbow said, her voice strained. "Like I was disgusting."

Applejack sat down heavily. How to fix this, she wondered. How to mend something smashed to pieces by her true feelings, of all things.

"I've... thought things about you were off before," Applejack replied. "Like the whole 'egg' ordeal. You didn't mind so much then."

"That's because it was just something I did. This time, it was like you didn't want to be near me." Rainbow threw something to the side, probably her plate. "After what I said!"

Applejack winced in the dark. "I know what you said," she replied. "And I feel the same way..."

"No you don't," Rainbow replied. "That look didn't belong to anypony who felt the way I do."

Applejack tried reaching her hoof out to find her partner in distress, but only succeeded in brushing against her fur before Dash retreated even further into the shadows.

"But I do," Applejack argued. "Everything about you is stranger than I could have ever imagined. I might not like all of it, but you've made my life a livin' adventure, and you've given me so much, every day, and every night." As her eyes adjusted to the oppressive gloom, she could begin to make out the outline of her colourful pegasus, sitting still and alone. "Sure, I don't like one thing about you, and it took me by surprise. I love everythin' else. I love how when I got my first splinter, you were right there in a second. I love how you sleep, and treat me as somethin' precious. I love how everythin' you do is an adventure, and how excited you get over nothin'."

"Yeah, well—" Rainbow began, but Applejack dropped her still outstretched hoof, causing her to go silent again.

She swallowed hard, her heart feeling like it was about to burst. "I love you, in the same way as you said you love me." She smiled. "So won't you let me put this on hold until tomorrow, because this is our fake-aversary, and I don't want you to spend it hidin' from me in the shadows."

The universe held its breath.

Rainbow's hoof brushed against Applejack's own.

"Okay," she muttered, the light from the restaurant finding her at last, landing on her hesitant smile. Comfort was returned to Applejack the instant she saw it. "Sure."

The universe snapped.

Author's Note

As usual, feel free to upvote and comment. I always check every single comment I get, even if I don't always reply. The final chapter and epilogue are already out, too! Have a good one.

Pitchforks

The evening Rainbow and Applejack spent together was one they’d never forget. With the disgust of unfamiliar eating habits pushed to the backs of their minds, they were free, or as free as they could be, to enjoy the night. They enjoyed the stars, glowing through the deep indigo sky, as if they were light sneaking through a tattered sheet. They enjoyed the wind, rustling through their manes and tails and brushing over the grass.

Rainbow's eyes weren't quite tearless, but with Applejack's admission came a certain degree of content, regardless of their differences. For tonight, it'd be enough, she thought. Just for tonight.

After clearing the air and stating what they meant to each other, conversation didn't feel as important. What needed to be said had been said, after all, and whilst Rainbow commented on her job in a good-natured, if somewhat grumpy, manner, Applejack merely listened to her. She rested her head on one hoof, and in order to ignore what it was Rainbow was eating, let herself be enraptured in her mundane, fascinating life of flying, clouds, and unhappy co-workers.

And then they left. They paid their bill and trotted away, Rainbow's wing confining Applejack in a steel trap of comfort and affection.

It must have been close to midnight when they got to the edge of the orchard. Both their eyes were beginning to drift closed as the day began to catch up with them.

"You said you'd play the harmonica," Rainbow said, resting her head against Applejack's neck, the sweetness of their contact only making her more tired.

Applejack didn't reply, but pulled the gift out and brought it to her lips. She paused, reflecting on which song to play. A decision was made, and then she began.

Rainbow wasn't able to guess which song it was, nor how it was played. She knew only that it was soothing, quiet, relaxing and organic. It conjured images of napping at sunset and the smell of old trees.

They walked, slowly, under the cover of the moon, down the track to the house, Rainbow supporting her just enough for her to play unhindered. After five, maybe ten minutes, the song died out. Still in the claws of fatigue, Rainbow gave a muffled groan, and sank into Applejack's side more than ever.

"Hey, just stay awake a while longer, will you?" Applejack asked, shifting her weight to support Rainbow. "We're just five minutes away."

Rainbow didn't reply, and despite Applejack's best efforts, she began to slide off her towards the ground. Applejack felt Rainbow's wing loosen its grip. Concern stabbed at her, and she turned to look at Rainbow, sharp adrenaline taking hold.

Rainbow was not merely asleep. Stuck in her side, ugly and terrifying, was a pitchfork.

Silent in a vacuum of surprise and horror, Applejack let Rainbow tumble to the ground, limp and bleeding.

Midnight was the perfect time for a scream. When Applejack cried for help, her voice strained to allow for unprecedented volume, everypony who heard rushed to help.

Twilight's eyes still hurt from staring into... whatever it was the book had shown her. With sleep deprivation added to the mix, it wasn't a surprise she had developed heavy grey bags that hung under her eyes. It must be close to one in the morning, she thought. She recognized the emptiness of the streets and the singular silence of the houses that only came with a the dead of night from her time as a student in Canterlot.

Even the biggest cities slept eventually. A lifetime of all-nighters had taught Twilight that.

The hospital was never quite asleep, though. It dozed, perhaps. It dozed in the same way one might whilst travelling. Its eyes were closed, but it knew that when its stop came, it could get up and move, and catch the next train. So to speak.

Twilight hovered outside Rainbow's room. It didn't look like it got much use. It was a room for ponies in critical condition, and whether it was by blind luck or extreme caution, most ponies avoided ever seeing the inside of it. Even Rainbow, with all her dangerous stunts, had only ever suffered broken bones. She had never lost large quantities of blood. Twilight gave the door a gentle push, opening it so it was ajar.

At least she was stable. If Applejack hadn't gotten her to the hospital with her brother as quick as she did, she might not have been so fortunate.

The mare was inside, barely awake, her forehead resting on the side of the bed Rainbow lay on. Her eyes were closed, like she was asleep, but her breathing indicated otherwise. It lacked the peace of sleep, the calm. One hoof had found its way around Rainbow's own, and never moved, even though Applejack herself might shift her weight to make herself comfortable. Contact between the two was always maintained, without exception or faltering.

Rainbow herself was asleep. Whilst her expression was far from content, her breathing was slow and docile, and each muscle was limp and relaxed. Twilight regretted not knowing more about medical science, but from the quantity of machines the damaged pegasus was hooked up to, much more had gone wrong than simply losing blood. Bandages were wrapped around her waist where the pitchfork had penetrated her body, and four dots of red had begun to show on the white linen where the blood had leaked out before coagulating.

Twilight crept into the room, quiet as to not disturb Rainbow's rest.

"I know you're there," Applejack muttered, her eyes drifting open and settling on Twilight's own. "I ain't asleep."

"I could tell," Twilight replied. "I came as soon as I heard."

"Who told you?"

"One of the nurses. Rainbow listed me as someone to contact if she got injured."

Applejack frowned. "Not that I ain't glad to see you, but why?"

"In her words, it was because 'if Rainbow got stuck in a canyon, she wanted someone who could teleport her out and turn rocks into sandwiches'."

Applejack gave Twilight a wry smile. "Sounds about right." She sighed. "She damaged several of her vitals, including a lung. If the pitchfork had gone an inch deeper, she'd have lost her heart."

"Are you all right?" Twilight asked.

"We had a fight, before she had her accident. It was about her eatin' fish," Applejack went on, oblivious to Twilight's question. Twilight raised an eyebrow at the mention of 'fish'. "It's a pegasus thing, apparently. I weren't happy, and she weren't happy I weren't happy. We agreed to let it drop until tomorrow." Applejack looked up at the clock. "I mean, today. But if she hadn't..." Applejack went quiet, taking a deep breath to calm her wayward thoughts. "...I just really want to get over that. Y'know? And I almost couldn't."

"Are you all right?" Twilight repeated, her concern for Applejack growing. Applejack shrugged.

"I dunno'. I'm tired, and maybe I'm overreacting. She's gonna' be fine, after all. That's what's important," she said. "On the other hoof, Rainbow's been havin' more and more accidents lately. Bruises. Falls. Some tiling fell on her head only today. She told me my farm was becoming a death-trap." Applejack looked deep into Twilight's eyes. "And I swear on my life, that pitchfork weren't there when I left the farm. I put it away. I put it away."

Twilight frowned. "Are you sure you're not just imagining things?"

Applejack shook her head, and brushed Rainbow's mane aside to reveal a bruise she got from earlier that day. "I thought she was just clumsy. But no way that pitchfork was left there, and even if it was, it shouldn't have gotten her that badly."

Twilight narrowed her eyes.

She hesitated.

I suppose it's time to use what I've learned...

Her horn flickered as she conjured up the spell in her mind, the idea of what should happen. Applejack frowned, disturbed by the use of magic.

"What're you doin'?" she asked.

"The same thing the crystal table did to you six months ago. I'm examining her magic."

"You mean I didn't have to lie on that table?"

"No, you did. I hadn't learned how to do this back then." She started to scan Rainbow's unconscious body. "The book showed me how."

Applejack couldn't quite remember what book Twilight meant, even if it prodded at her memory. Instead of continuing the discussion, she let her friend continue her spell, observing her all the while.

Twilight's expression began to turn from curious to concerned. Then, from concerned, to alarmed.

"What's wrong?" Applejack asked.

"What's wrong?" Twilight asked. "What isn't wrong?!"

Ponies say sometimes that life isn't fair. This is, in fact, a gross assumption. Hundreds of years hence, an ancestor of the Apple family saw an apple drop from a tree (as Apples are wont to notice). Whilst the conclusions he drew from the event were very different, if he had paused a minute, he would have reflected that the apple falling was very fair indeed. It was too heavy, its stalk was too weak. So it fell. The apple may not want to fall (since falling often implies stopping, abruptly) but in the grand scheme of things, it was only fair.

The rules of life are intertwined with the rules of physics, and physics is well known for being, on the whole, consistent. Just because you didn't read the rules doesn't mean they weren't there.

Magic, on the other hand, has nothing to do with life whatsoever. And it is incredibly unfair.

Within the context of Applejack and Rainbow Dash's relationship, an educated individual might even say magic was being a Real Bitch.

"It's the same thing that's been affecting you," Twilight explained once they had left the hospital room. "The magic inside her is acting up, thinking that it's not natural for the pair of you to be together. Except instead of mixing pegasus and Earth pony up, it's gone really wrong... and has begun to actively attack her whenever she's near where you live."

As they walked through the corridors, Applejack was completely, and utterly silent. Her expression didn't betray even a hint of emotion.

"I need to get back to my Castle... maybe the Pursuit Informatio can help. In fact..." Twilight went on, before trailing off. She shook her head. "Never mind. That's just a theory."

"The book that knows everything?"

Twilight nodded. "Yes. That one."

"I remember it now. Couldn't quite put my hoof on it before."

"There's a problem, though."

Applejack frowned. They left the hospital, trotting at a brisk pace towards the centre of town. "Like what?" she asked, evidence of frustration plain as day on her face.

"I... I read the book too much," Twilight said. "I accidentally asked the wrong thing, and it trapped me in a paradox of what could be, and what couldn't. Spike managed to save me, and then I... threw up a billiard ball. And I couldn't stop saying words beginning with 'B' until I had a lie down."

Twilight felt Applejack grab her by the wing, spinning her around until they were face to face, nose to nose. Twilight was given a perfect, unobstructed view of each line on Applejack's face, each twisted muscle, contributing to a face that would have made any Princess flinch.

"Are you joking?" Applejack growled, her voice deeper than any stallion's. "You threw up a billiard ball because you read a book too much?!"

Twilight swallowed. Applejack's grip tightened. "No, I'm not... listen, I know you're upset..."

"Upset is for Rainbow forgetting to do the dishes," Applejack snapped. "Angry is for ponies yanking my chain. But you tellin' me that my special somepony is in the hospital, almost dead, because I did her the disservice of loving her, and you're here yammering about words beginnin' with 'B' and magic and stuff I don't understand..."

"Applejack!" Twilight exclaimed. "You're hurting me!"

Applejack released Twilight's wing, and took a few steps back. Her expression was no less angry than before. No less pained. Twilight nursed her wing where Applejack had nearly crushed the blood from it.

Unable to control herself, Applejack finally screamed. No... roared. Whereas her cries for help earlier had been desperate, the kind nopony could ignore, this was something that would send even the bravest group of ponies into a panic.

She roared until she was hoarse.

She reared and stomped until the ground began to break under her hooves.

She shook and trembled and clenched her teeth until she was all out of energy.

Then she stopped, and stood. Panting.

"Are you done?" Twilight asked.

Applejack took a deep breath.

"Yeah. I'm done."

The Castle, which was never full of activity to begin with, felt lifeless. Spike was asleep, upstairs, unaware of the events of the evening. Twilight hadn't the heart to wake him.

Sitting on the table, even the Pursuit Informatio looked asleep. It was less a matter of observing changes across its cover and pages, since books were not prone to having expressions or body language, but more an impression it gave. Applejack looked at the book and compulsively thought: that book looks asleep.

But when Twilight's hoof brushed its covers... then it looked electrified. Alive.

"I don't really know what will happen, since all this is just a theory I concocted this evening," Twilight explained. "So, I'm going to try explaining it. If you don't want to do it, there's always the alternative."

"Which is?" Applejack asked.

Twilight bit her lip. "You'll have to stop seeing Rainbow Dash," she said. Applejack turned away, and stared at the book, pensive.

"Y'know, we only just admitted we loved each other," she said in a soft, quiet voice. Twilight ran her hoof through her mane.

"I know it'll be hard..." she began, but Applejack interrupted her.

"Not in the slightest. It just makes leavin' her easier," she explained. "If my bein' near her nearly killed her, I'll gladly never see her again. I'd happily get a restrainin' order for her, set up traps in my trees, or even leave Ponyville if it means keepin' her away from me."

Twilight nodded. "I... see. Well, I'll explain what I'm doing... or rather, what I'm trying... anyway. It might not come to that." She held up the Pursuit. "This isn't just an ordinary book. It was a notebook, or rather, a reference book used by ponies of ancient times." Twilight paused, waiting for Applejack to catch up. "The ponies of old were far smarter than us. Exponentially so. This book was such a cheap trick to them it wouldn't even garner a footnote in their history. But today, now... it's an item of incredible, unfathomable power."

Applejack nodded. "I follow so far."

"The ponies of old had ways with words we simply cannot compare to. Instead of simply translating meaning into words, they translated information that was not known at the time into words. They had figured out how to, quite literally, exploit a weakness in how our universe worked. The universe is as close to infinitely big as we can get... and at first they struggled. But then they decided the make the universe smaller. They took an infinitely small piece of it and stored it in writing." Twilight tapped the book. "Right here."

"But you said the universe is infinitely big. How big is an infinitely small piece of something infinitely big?"

"About the size of this book, apparently."

"Ah."

"The way I understand it... and to be honest, I probably don't... the book in itself is a paradox. And when you ask it a question it cannot properly answer, that paradox unravels and shows itself for what it truly is. Strands of the fabric of the universe, stored on paper, where entire worlds can exist merely by stringing a couple of sentences alongside each other."

Applejack frowned. "And this helps us how?"

"Well, I think that if we can get at strands of the universe, we... you might be able to... hotwire it, I guess. 'Fix' it to include both you and Dash, together."

Applejack breathed outwards. "That sounds dangerous."

"It probably is. On the off chance that the world as we know it implodes, I'll make a point of recording that in my lab book."

"Will that help?"

"It's a coping mechanism."

"And how will I know how to... fix the universe?"

"I'm hoping that'll sort of become obvious when you get there," Twilight said. "If I go, I'll probably die. Instantly. I've been exposed to it once, and if I go in again, I don't think the universe will be kind to me. With a bit of luck, if you're expecting what awaits you, maybe you'll have a chance of manipulating it somehow."

"And what am I expectin'?"

"In a word, everything. Just... try to focus on the idea of everything."

Twilight opened the book and placed it in front of Applejack. "So, um... if you don't want to do this, that's fine. I don't think I'd want to either."

Applejack shrugged. "What's it going to do, make me unhappy?" she asked. "Because that's my alternative."

"Actually," Twilight replied, "I suspect the alternative is two unhappy ponies." She tapped the pages. "Just ask the book what you'll do in five minutes. That worked for me, at least. I'll pull you away from the book in six."

Applejack peered down at the pages. There were words there, but they didn't seem to be any she recognized. And yet... They all had a meaning she could instantly understand.

"These are strange..." she commented, feeling her eyes get drawn in, fall into the book, as if it were the most engrossing thing in the world. The words became all she could see, all she could feel, all she could smell... You couldn't smell words, could you? Applejack swallowed. "Okay, uh... book. Tell me what I'll be doin' in five minutes."

The words moved. The words shifted. But wait... no. They didn't move, Applejack realized, she just thought they did. In fact, she was thinking an awful lot just then. Meaning and knowledge was getting downloaded into her brain without going through any of her senses. Her eyes couldn't read the words, she couldn't touch them, she couldn't do anything to them, but they were there, screaming inside her skull, and they were taking over.

But what were they saying? What...

Applejack's consciousness dropped into the book, leaving her actual self behind.

The universe, as Twilight was able to prove with the help of some cleverly thought out questions, was rather similar to a rubber band. Had she been the romantic sort, she might have found something else that also fit that metaphor, broadly speaking.

Had she thought to ask how love drew a pony from one side of the room to the other without them seemingly moving, she might have guessed. Had she asked why, when one pony left their loved one, the other one hurt, she might have known.

Applejack, whilst still technically in Twilight's Castle, was very much someplace else. And Rainbow felt the sting of her absence keenly. It wasn't a pain that was felt through nerves, or even through anything physical, but it hurt. And it woke her up.

"Applejack..." she muttered through her breathing mask.

Before any doctor or nurse had the time to notice she was awake, she had gotten to her hooves, one wing clutched around her injured side. And when they did notice, she was already roaming the halls, desperately wanting, needing, craving to find the other end of her own shared rubber band.

"Huh. This feels strange."

Rather, it was not a feel so much as something she accepted as knowing. Applejack didn't really feel anything at present. She wasn't even sure there was an Applejack. She was just... a piece of a bigger piece, if that made sense.

"I can talk, though," she said. "Does that mean we can have a conversation?"

The general consensus around her was that a conversation was not out of the question. Applejack wasn't sure how she was supposed to discuss anything with what she could best describe as 'all', though.

That didn't mean she wouldn't try.

"I want to talk about Rainbow Dash," Applejack said. "Now, I'm gettin' the impression you... whatever you are... have an objection or two regardin' my love life."

The universe made Applejack understand that 'it' was 'everything'. Applejack reasoned that it was only able to do this because she was a part of 'everything', so logically, she already knew that.

Or something along those lines.

"So, I'm going to get to the point, since I only have six minutes—"

The universe politely pointed out that, being infinity, it had all the time it needed.

"That's awfully odd. Twilight said you were an infinitesimally small piece of infinity."

Well, if she wanted to be picky, then yes, it was somewhat smaller than the real deal, but no less potent. Stop complaining and start talking.

"Okay. To business: me and Rainbow Dash ain't any of your concern. So you stay out of it," Applejack snapped. "That means no pitchforks, and while you're at it, let me buck apples properly again. I'm bettin' you're behind that, too."

All around her, everywhere, Applejack knew the universe was laughing at her. If she wanted to date somepony and not have to deal with the consequences, she should have picked a more suitable candidate.

"Oh yeah? Like who?"

Perhaps an Earth pony. She looked like she'd suit a big, dumb stallion who chewed hay all day and put food on the table, despite not knowing the ins and outs of basic culinary science. That was the pattern her family had followed, after all. The Apples always married Earth ponies.

"No thanks. I ain't interested. I don’t tell everypony this, but I’m actually pegasexual."

Well, that was her own damn fault, wasn’t it? She'd just have to deal with pitchforks, wouldn't she?

"What is this, the dark ages? We don't deal with problems with torches and pitchforks no more. And I ain't leavin' until you give me a fair trial."

This wasn't a trial. This was merely Applejack being brought up to speed on how things would be, because they had always been that way. Country ponies like her married big handsome stallions with very little brains, didn't do much thinking and would have a couple of foals, not too many, not too much, and be very happy with that arrangement. They would, under no circumstances, be attracted to mares, who were also a completely different species and wanted completely different things out of life.

That would just be stupid. And disorganized.

"What if I'm not happy with that arrangement?"

Then she probably wasn't going to be happy with that arrangement.

"Surely you can do better."

Everything that could be done on the matter had already been done. Rationalization didn't work: despite trying very, very hard, Applejack simply refused to become a pegasus.

"Yeah, well, I had to buck apples! I'm an Earth pony! It's what I'm good at!"

Well, perhaps if Applejack hadn't been so persistent and unable to adapt, maybe Rainbow wouldn't have had to suffer quite so many accidents.

"So let me get this straight: if I become a pegasus, you'll let me be?"

Oh no. This little situation has gone far beyond such easy remedies now. Besides, she could never grow wings. Physics and logic still had rules that had to be observed: they were already being bent quite enough as it was.

"Then you've got to let me stay with Rainbow!" Applejack argued. "Without killin' her."

If Applejack gave up such foalish ideas, her life would be much easier. How much trouble had that pegasus brought her? If she simply dated an Earth pony stallion instead, she could even have foals. Applejack wanted foals... and she wouldn't even need her partner to lay eggs to get them.

"I don't care. If it's not with Rainbow, it doesn't matter."

Then Applejack was doomed. Disappointment was her only option.

Twilight took a look at the large crystal clock hanging on the wall. Quarter to two. In three minutes, she thought to herself. Three more minutes...

Staggering inside the chamber, half awake and barely alive, came Rainbow Dash, bandaged and bleeding and very, very determined.

Twilight wasn't sure what to think. Should she be impressed, or should she panic?

"Rainbow!" she exclaimed, getting to her hooves.

"Applejack..." grunted Rainbow. "Wh..."

She saw the book, and she saw Applejack. Twilight held up her hooves. "Listen, you really shouldn't be moving. I'm not even sure how you got here in your state..."

"Walked," Rainbow replied. "... Hurts..."

"I imagine it does," Twilight said, but Rainbow cut her off.

"Not that. Applejack..." Rainbow approached her partner silently, her mouth dry as she followed her gut feeling, a sensation so subtle yet so strong she couldn't help but be drawn to it. "Have to help..."

She peered into the book.

"I still ain't leavin'," Applejack snapped, her temper rising.

Just like that, she was no longer alone.

"Oh, horseapples. This feels really, really, really weird," Rainbow said, arriving from everywhere yet nowhere. She simply existed among the all that surrounded them, much like Applejack, in fact.

"Rainbow?" Applejack asked, amazed. "What are you doing here?"

Rainbow shrugged. "No idea. I was kind of on drugs, like, five minutes ago. I still feel real bouncy," she said. "Well, not any more. I feel... uh, what's the word?"

"Weird."

Oh good, it seems it's going to be a party. Why don't you bring all your friends and have a big old pillow fight?!

"Who's this then?" Rainbow asked, gesturing towards everything.

"That's the universe... or, some small part of it, at least," Applejack replied. "You don't look injured no more."

"Yeah, I feel fine," Rainbow said. "Weird, huh?"

If Rainbow and Applejack are quite finished catching up...?

Both ponies turned towards... something. Neither pony was sure, exactly, but they both knew they turned towards the same thing.

"You're the thing that impaled me with a pitchfork?"

Guilty as charged. Although, really, this is all Applejack's fault.

"Don't go pointing hooves at AJ!" Rainbow quarrelled.

"Yeah! This is about you not knowing how to deal with us being together, whether you want it or not!"

Don't play innocent. What Applejack and Rainbow are in is everything: here, they are mere specks. Points of non-matter that don't even exist compared to the size and scale of all that is, was, will be, and might be.

"Yeah, and you know what?" Applejack said, a grin beginning to play her lips. "I think you don't know what these two speck being together in all this... all means."

Applejack will have to explain.

Applejack reached out towards Rainbow. "I mean that here we are, right splat bang in the fabric of the universe. Right where you make up the rules, right?"

Rainbow wrapped her own hoof around Applejack's. Together, they smiled... even though Rainbow wasn't entirely sure what at. She just liked holding hooves. The support was all Applejack needed.

"So really, when you get right down to it, what we do here are the rules, right? And look at us. Take a good, long look. We're here, in your rulebook, together, and there ain't a darn thing you can do to stop it."

This is not how it should be.

"We're hotwirin' the universe, sugarcube. I don't care how my family used to do things in the past. I ain't marryin' no stallion and havin' a couple of foals and bein' all pretty and stupid. I'm with Rainbow Dash, a pegasus mare, and maybe one day we'll have a couple of eggs, argue about fish and have a real life without havin' to worry about some stupid piece of everythin' that thinks it knows what's best for us and givin’ me splinters!"

"I'm missing loads of context," Rainbow said, "but I agree with all of that."

Applejack and Rainbow, side by side, hoof in hoof, drawn together by their own caring and happiness and trust and love and everything they were and are, stared down infinity. They stared it down with the same confidence only winners had, sure and certain that their happy ending was theirs, and that nothing could ever hope to take it away from them.

There is simply no arguing with their level of stubbornness.

And they stared it down until Twilight pulled them away from a book on fire with the burning each of them had in their hearts.

Applejack stumbled, once more in command of her nerves and her brain. She topped to the side, landing heavily on her ribs as she coughed and groaned, her stomach and intestines groaning and churning.

"Applejack!" Twilight exclaimed, kicking the charred remains of the book away. "Are you okay?!"

Applejack's stomach heaved, and rising up her throat and mouth spilled a whole bucketful of blueberries. "...Bluh!... Blueberries? But..."

She tried keeping her body under control, her hooves scrabbling against the pristine floor, trying to find purchase. She was a spider turned on its back, flailing her legs, utterly impotent. She could barely tell which way was up.

"Applejack! Stay still," Twilight shouted. "I need to help Rainbow! Don't... bite your tongue off or anything."

"...bite?" Applejack asked, her eyes rolling, trying to figure out what was what, like she was drunk. Finally, she found the one thing that mattered. A patch of clear blue, with colour streaming all around it.

Rainbow Dash had thrown something up too, but it was nothing nearly as benign as blueberries.

"Blood..." Applejack muttered, trying to crawl towards Rainbow and the pool of sticky red her head lay in. "B-bow..."

Twilight picked the mare up in a haze of magic, and looked over at Applejack. "This is why Rainbow listed me as a person to call in an emergency," she said, smiling faintly. "Please stay safe while I'm gone."

And then, Twilight blinked away, leaving behind nothing more than purple smoke and an Earth pony terrified she had gone through infinity and beyond to be with a pony who might die anyway.

Author's Note

All that remains is the epilogue. Guess what! It's out now.

Epilogue

"You know what's cool about losing all your blood?" Rainbow asked. "Nothing, that's what."

Applejack didn't even deign to reply as she nudged her special somepony out of the hospital in a wheelchair. Even now, Rainbow looked pale and feeble. She'd wear the scars from the pitchfork her whole life. Not even her thick blue coat could hide them entirely.

"Can't fly, can't work, can't even leave the house," she went on. "'Take it slow'. Yeah, because that's totally who I am. I'm known throughout Equestria for how slow I am."

Scars were fine, Applejack thought. Scars were wonderful compared to the alternatives. Rainbow might be dead, for starters. Or maybe their desperate attempt inside the… place... mightn't have worked.

"You're faster than you'd be if you were dead," Applejack commented. "Which you darn near were. Twice."

"I like to think of it as one big prolonged near death experience."

But it had worked. Twilight had confirmed as much as soon as she inspected the pair using her strange spell. Their magic had returned to normal. Applejack was still suffering the residual side-effects of being partnered to a pegasus, like splinters, but that was something she'd gladly live with. She was even getting used to them, just a bit.

She snickered, and tussled Rainbow’s mane.

"I love you."

"You've said that. Loads of times," Rainbow replied. "Getting afraid you'll lose me?"

Applejack shook her head. "No, I'm just reminding you so that when we get home and we discuss the whole 'fish' thing, you won't forget what's really important to me," she said, and leaned forwards to kiss the back of Rainbow's head. "'Kay?"

"Hrmph. Sure, whatever," Rainbow grunted. "You know, pescetarianism isn't even frowned upon in Manehattan. I bet they'd be cool with it."

"I ain't from Manehattan."

"Fluttershy eats fish."

Applejack narrowed her eyes. "Fluttershy doesn't share a mouth with me after mealtime."

"Good point," Rainbow muttered. "Would it help if I used mouthwash?"

"Honestly, I wouldn't mind if you used mouthwash either way."

"Noted. What if I only eat it on our fake-aversary?"

Applejack tilted her head. "Maybe. I'll mull it over."

Twilight sighed as she peered at the remains of the Pursuit Informatio. All it had become was little more than a disappointing pile of ash and scorched paper at the bottom of a chromium metal bin. Spike shrugged as he kept at his task of the day: making Twilight some scrambled eggs.

"It really was quite a useful book," she said. "All the questions we could have asked. All the things we could have known."

"All the brambles we could have thrown up," Spike retorted. Twilight winced at the notion, then sighed.

"I could have asked it why it was only things beginning with the letter 'B'," she added. "I was never sure why that was."

"Why did it burn up?" Spike asked, picking up the bin to throw out. Twilight shrugged.

"Maybe changing how the universe thinks damaged it. Maybe two ponies reading it at once was too much. Or maybe there is something to be said about 'burning with passion'."

"Doesn't sound all that logical, if you ask me."

"It wouldn't be the first time," Twilight said. "Magic is very pesky that way."

"Well," Spike said, "hopefully this'll be the last we hear of 'magic books'. Honestly, I'm amazed you even picked the Pursuit up after the Inspiration Manifestation."

The dragon left the room, leaving Twilight behind to sulk.

"Well, it was hard enough to get, after all. No sense letting it go to waste," she muttered. She hung her head, disappointed. "Well, I suppose it was dangerous. I wonder... what must the ponies of old have thought? Would they have treated it with caution, or was falling into a paradox just an everyday hazard?"

Many, many years ago, in a place that was having some difficulty existing properly...

"Your go."

The dice was rolled. It came up orange.

"Sports and leisure. Give me the question."

"Very well. How many tennis balls were used during the Whinnybleton championship one hundred and three years ago?"

"Oh, everypony knows that one. Fifteen thousand, three hundred and twenty three. Additionally, seven thousand eight hundred and eleven were used for qualifying, and a very surprising twenty seven thousand and ninety two for practice. Fifty thousand, two hundred and twenty six."

"Let me just check the Pursuit."

"What is the meaning of life?" exclaimed one of the players, a broad grin on his face. The pony with the Pursuit went quiet.

"Goodness, there's always that one pony, isn't there?"

"Someone take the answerbook away from him."

"Eh? Bumblebees?"

"Alto Intellectus created a paradox. Cheeky blighter."

"What I want to know is, was I right? I still need an orange slice to win."

"Of course you were right! Everypony knows the answer to that question!"

"I'd have won the orange one before if I got easy questions..."

"Oh, stop arguing. It's all in good fun. It's not like it's an actual serious game."

"Well, if I've won, then I really should get back home. I need to rest up properly. More and more Bad Books are getting written, and more and more ponies are getting cluttered brains every day."

"Soon there won't be enough ponies who know what’s real or not to save everypony. We'll have to start coexisting with stupid ponies."

"Don't even joke."

"It is a grim thought. If everypony becomes dumb, who will I win at Pursuit Informatio with?"

"Everypony. You'd win against everypony."

Author's Note

And there you have the ending of The Many Complications of Interspecies Romance. I hope you thought it was fresh and interesting: I had a blast writing it.

Many thanks to Tchernobog and Timaeus, who gave the story a look-over to make sure I wasn't utterly bonkers. They're also cool people.

If you enjoyed this story, you may also enjoy this other story of mine: What do You Mean, We're Not Related also has a magic book causing mayhem for everypony, and was where the idea of the Pursuit Informatio was born. More magic books to follow? Perhaps. Another great AppleDash story of mine I'd recommend reading is The One Week Year.

Until then, please upvote the story if you enjoyed it, and feel free to comment. Have a good one.