Moonshine

by bookplayer

Rating: teen
Tags: Sex, Human, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Rainbow Dash, Romance, Profanity, Adventure
Length: 23339

Dash has a problem. Applejack has a solution. It ain't exactly legal, and it ain't exactly safe, but for a friend like Dash, Applejack is willing to risk her reputation, her neck, and, if the cards fall right, her heart.

Co-written with Merc The Jerk

Applejack's friend Dash took off for the fast life of the big city years ago, but now she's shown up back on the farm with some big city problems. She knows Applejack will always help her out, and Applejack knows it too; she's always been fond of Dash... maybe a little too fond.

Luckily, the Pomme family has a solution to Dash's problem right in their basement. It ain't exactly legal, and ain't exactly safe, but for a friend like Dash, Applejack is willing to risk her reputation, her neck, and, if the cards fall right, her heart.

Warning for strong language.

Cover art by Eve Ashgrove

Published 2015-09-23 19:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-09-27 04:39:57 UTC

Chapter 1

Things took a turn for Applejack one fall morning.

She had just finished tending to a sick cow laying in the back forty when she saw the unmistakable silhouette of her brother in the distance, making his slow, plodding way towards her.

He was a massive man, lumbering close to seven feet tall, and had the strength to match his looks; strength he was supposed to be using right now to haul out the barrels so she could get them cleaned and patched before next harvest. As he approached, Applejack had to wonder what pulled him off his work.

“There ya are, Jacqueline,” he drawled out, giving a run of his thumbs over his suspenders as he took in the crisp autumn air.

She wasn’t a fan of her real name. Jacqueline never had the same ring to it as the nickname she had earned over the years thanks to the family hobby, so she only really tolerated her big brother calling her variations of it due to their history together.

Not that she had to like it, though.

“What ya need, Macaroon?” she answered, using her own irritating pet name on the man. Like usual, he only offered a slight raise of his brow at the response, accustomed to his sister’s teasing. She was glad the modern-day Goliath had inherited their mother’s gentle heart.

“There’s a real tomato waitin’ fer ya back at the house,” he said, scratching at his seemingly ever-present stubble across his chin. Applejack had told him time and time again that he wouldn’t get the eye of any of the dames around town if he didn’t take care of himself, but he offered no real attempt at gussying up despite her warnings.

“Huh,” AJ said, “wasn’t expectin’ any company today. ‘Cora?”

“Enope,” Mac drawled out. “If it was her, I could talk, but...”

Her brother was painfully shy. Thanks to that, Applejack had to be the face of the farm most times, handling day-to-day transactions and a lot of the more delicate issues the business faced on the average day, especially with some of the out-of-towners that found out it was ran by a woman and not the elder of the Pomme clan.

AJ sighed, rolling up her long sleeves.

“Alright then, let’s jus’ see what the kitten wants.”

They walked across the fields, AJ leading the way, Mac trailing behind like a loyal dog. They were joined by AJ’s actual loyal dog about halfway there. She barked at AJ, spinning around in excitement, probably from the guest arriving. The dog loved company. She was a terrible guard dog, but AJ didn’t mind. It was better being approachable, after all. That was why she never wore her dungarees off the farm; she knew she was bigger and stronger than other broads, and it could put folks on edge. Around town she made sure to doll herself up enough to look respectable and catch a glance from from the local guys, rather than just letting her hair down. A good smile, a bat of eyelashes and most thought more seriously about the provisions the family sold at market, stopped a mite longer at the stand to look over the girl, and in turn, the goods she carried, both literally and figuratively.

Though she wasn’t like a certain canary she knew. No one would mistake Applejack for a big city fashion plate, and she wasn’t the type to lure people into sales using her feminine wiles. She was sincere and upright with people, never leading them on with promises that were never spoken or delivered upon. AJ just knew what sold sometimes, and used the occasional wink and laugh to help with the sale.

They made their way up to the worn, rustic porch, where a figure paced across the oak planks, letting a creak across a certain plank with every step that was made across it.

AJ recognized the figure’s lanky form instantly, and as she did, she felt her heart give a small, weak flutter.

The girl looked up and gave a grin as her eyes landed on AJ. “Hey, sister, what’s cookin’?”

“Well, might have some stew in a few hours, Mac caught a rabbit earlier.” AJ’s smile matched the girl’s and she stepped forward, meeting her in a quick hug. “Though I ain’t sure ‘bout givin’ some ta a stranger like yerself.”

Dash had changed a bit. Her rainbow hair was cut in a messy bob, and instead of dungarees she wore a man’s suit and a driver’s cap. But the suit looked rumpled and maybe even slept in, like her clothes always had, and she hugged with the same nervous energy AJ knew well.

“Bullshit, I saw the hobo scratches on your gate. Everyone knows you’re a soft touch.”

AJ gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I dunno ‘bout that, sug. I think it musta been Mac who notched ‘em. Ya know I’m a hardass.”

Mac let a small snort out at that, looking between the two with a smile of his own. Finally, he rose, walking past them and tossing the screen door open.

“Reckon I ought ta get the meal ready fer you an’ yer hobo friend,” he said, stepping inside.

“Got him trained pretty well, huh?” AJ asked, stretching her hands up over her head and scraping at the roof of the porch.

“Pfft. Like that’s hard. If there’s a palooka who wouldn’t know how to tie his shoes without some broad, it’s Mac,” Dash said, but she kept half an eye on the door. Probably to make sure he was still out of earshot.

“Sounds ‘bout right. He’s gonna need a saint ta put up with him.” She laughed under her breath, her smile turning warm and a hair sentimental as she looked at the girl. “It’s been too long since you’ve been ta the cave. I’ve missed ya.”

“I’ve been busy!” Dash grinned, but there was something strained about it. “Real busy. I got a lotta… stuff going on. But I got some time, and I thought ‘I wonder if that blonde chickadee is still kickin’ around the farm,’ so I thought I’d drop by!” The grin relaxed into a smile that was clearly genuine. “I’ve missed you too, AJ.”

Then why’d ya split? she almost asked, but held her tongue. Dash was a runner, an explorer, always had been. Applejack was more of a rock. Stationary, passive, unyielding. The farm was her and she was the farm. It’d take a lot to push her off of it. Instead of pressing on the question she wanted to ask, she gave a push to Dash’s shoulder. “So, this stuff… ya some lucky sap’s flame nowadays?”

A dark look flashed across Dash’s face, replaced lightning fast by that strained grin. “They all wish I was, but you know me. There’s not a cat out there that can catch this mouse. What about you? You've been practicing long enough on Mac, have you found some poor slob to whip into shape yet?”

AJ gave a belly laugh. “Any fella I whip’s liable ta have his back broken. Nah. Ain’t a sweet mama like you are, the boys don’t fawn ‘round my feet.” The farmer scratched at a cheek after a moment. When it came to peeling Dash open and getting to problems, she knew she had to soften the blow. Puffing up Dash’s ego before plugging her was the usual way AJ went about it.

“Though I do know ya, sug,” Applejack said with a tap against Dash’s forehead. “Ya got somethin’ that’s gummin’ yer gears. Gimme the low down.”

“You kidding? I’m cool as a cucumber.” Dash gave a sideways glance, but Applejack’s face made it clear she wasn’t buying it. “I mean, mostly. I might be in a tiny jam,” she admitted with a shrug. “You know how it goes. Some bad luck with the baseball season. And the ponies. And dice… but that one wasn’t my fault, I was lit up! Anyway, I owe a guy.”

“Uh huh,” AJ dryly replied, raising a brow and crossing her arms, looking briefly like an irritated mother rather than a friend. “An’ how much, exactly, do ya owe this guy?”

“Uh…” Dash rubbed the back of her neck, looking everywhere but at AJ. “Half a grand. Something like that.”

“Half a Goddamn grand?!” AJ shouted, then covered her mouth in embarrassment at the expletive. “That’s more than bad luck with baseball, how did you blow that much?!” She ran her hand over her brow. “A hundred an’ I could maybe do somethin’ fer ya, but…”

“It didn’t start out as that much! I lost a buck here, twenty there… I had notes all over town. I talked to this guy about a loan, to get everything clear. Then he let me go double or nothing on it.”

“What kinda loan? I know ya don’t have credit fer no good bank.” She pushed a finger to Dash’s shoulder, this time a bit harder than her earlier teasing. “Don’t tell me yer so dumb that ya did what I think ya did.”

Dash threw up her hands in a wild shrug. “What was I supposed to do? I knew the guy, he’s one of Will Taurino’s boys, and he didn’t even work me over too hard on interest… I mean, he wouldn’t have if the bet hadn’t doubled that, too.”

“I know that name. I know that name an’ I’m out in the damn boonies, Evelyn Hammett what have ya done? No wonder ya came here—ain’t ‘bout visitin’, it’s ‘bout hidin’, ain’t it? I know Taurino, an I know he’s lookin’ fer his bank. That’s why ya came back ta me,” she spat out, tapping at her own chest. To me. Not to here. To me, she thought, but dismissed it, narrowing her brow at the woman to shut herself up.

“I came back ‘cause I knew you’d help me! I knew if I could count on anyone in the world, I could count on you.” Dash looked at her with big puppy dog eyes, but there was real desperation there that she wasn’t even trying to hide. “You’ve gotta help me, AJ.”

“Ya know I don’t have that kinda bacon, even if I sold every piece of land under my feet. Not that Mac would let me. Jus’...” she rubbed her brow in frustration. “Ya know yer always welcome here. At least we’ll get a hot meal, cool bath an’ a warm bed while we think this over. Alright, sug?”

Dash grinned. “For now, anyplace my kneecaps are likely to stay in one piece is golden. And just gimme some time off the cooker, I’ll think of something.”

“An’ Dash?” AJ muttered out as they turned to go inside. The other paused, looking at her and Applejack shook her head, giving a press down onto Dash’s head with her meaty hand. “I’m glad yer back. But yer a real genius, ya know that? ”

Applejack’s promise was golden; after dinner and a bath, Dash passed right out, and for a brief moment it looked like she forgot about the weight on her shoulders. Morning came and the Pomme clan took off with the same zeal they approached every day: Macintosh made busy with milking the cows and tending to the hogs while Applejack herself tended the groves of trees housing the very plant her moniker came from. Their early day chores done, the siblings were back to the porch before Evelyn ever roused up from sleep. They sat at the steps, enjoying the brief moment of rest before more work.

Macintosh rolled a cigarette from a pouch of tobacco and handed it to AJ; the woman reached into her back pocket and pulled out a book of matches. Striking one, she lit her smoke, then leaned over, lighting Mac’s.

He stared off into the distance for a while, mulling something over, before glancing at his sister.
“Well, Jacquline, you and that girl have a nice lil’ catchup?” he asked.
“Ring-a-ding-ding, as the city-folk say,” AJ answered, giving a small roll of her finger to empathize. “Wasn’t too shabby.”

“Good broad, fer a hobo,” he said, AJ gave a small laugh at that.

After a beat, he continued, “but I wonder what’s got ya down, if the visit was good?”

Applejack said nothing. Macintosh, despite people around town considering him slow, wasn’t in the slightest. He was methodical and observant and because of that, AJ knew she couldn’t lie to him.

That, and it was a matter of respect. Though he didn’t share much, what Mac did say she knew was sincere when he talked to her. It wouldn’t do being any less honest to him than he was to her.

“Dash has some bread trouble, Macaroon.”

“What else is new?”

“Half a grand’s worth of bread trouble.”

“Half a Goddamn grand?!” he shouted, then covered his mouth in embarrassment at the expletive.

“‘Bout my reaction too,” Applejack agreed with a nod. “Ya know how she is too: playin’ it off like it ain’t nothin’, but it’s gotta be somethin’ fer her ta scram off the city. An’ I wanna help her, but it ain’t like we’re swimmin’ in money.”

Mac said nothing, giving a slow sigh in thought.

From behind, the screen door opened and the subject of their talk stepped outside, yawning and scratching at her multicolored hair and the side of the grease-stained overalls that replaced her suit.

“Mornin’,” she slurred out. Looking to the smokes the siblings were having, she held her hand out to Mac. “Snipe me?” she asked.

Mac complied, rolling the cigarette up and flicking a match to life, lighting her up. He glanced over to his sister, frowning a bit at her morose expression.

“Ya smoke like a man,” he said to his sister suddenly, the words snapping her from her thoughts.

She tilted her head and offered a sort of confused grimace. “What now?”

He pointed to his hand, where his index finger and thumb held the smoke in place, then gestured at her hand, which matched his spot for spot, then cocked his head to Dash, who held her own cigarette in between her index and middle finger.

“Dash an’ ‘Cora hold ‘em right fer dames,” Macintosh explained, giving a small, toothy grin AJ’s way. “Yer an odd duckling.”

“‘Cora…” Dash narrowed her brow in thought. “Oh, the negro from next door? How she doing?”

“Good,” Applejack answered for Macintosh, looking to her hand and making a small adjustment, putting the cigarette between her fingers. The instant she started to talk again, though, she subconsciously shifted the object between a finger and thumb again. “Playin’ sawbones fer the town, takin’ care-a this twit when he overdoes it.” She gave a playful slap to Mac’s broad shoulder.

“Eyup,” he agreed without much fight.

It was about that time that the trio heard the revving of a car bouncing along the rough dirt road leading to their home. It was a sleek thing, long, loud and a vibrant red that no amount of dust kicking up seemed to mute. When it came closer to the homestead proper, Applejack saw the man riding it and gave a wave, as did Macintosh. The man in the car waved back and, after another second’s travel, parked, stepping out and taking off the goggles he wore around his eyes.

He was an older man, middle-aged and trim, wearing a suit that cost more than what the Pomme clan ate on for half a year, but his eyes still held a warmth most people from the big city didn’t have.

“Filthy” Richard was his name. A real butter-and-egg man, his family struck it big during the gold rush, and then Richard himself struck it big again investing heavily in a railway company. Despite what a lot of out-of-towners thought when they heard his nickname, he earned it by playing the game differently than what was to be expected for a man in luxury: he cared deeply about the community, and would routinely join up with any place shorthanded or experiencing an excessive workload, no matter how dirty. In just Applejack’s life, she knew he had done mining, repairing railways, been an undertaker, and had even been an assistant on some of Zecora’s harder patch-up jobs.

The only thing Applejack could hold against him was that his little girl wasn’t a quarter of the man her father was. Everyone in town knew that egg was spoiled rotten.

He smiled, approaching Macintosh and, after taking his glove off, offering his hand.

“Looking plenty rugged, you two,” he addressed the siblings.

“Morinin’, Filthy,” Mac addressed. “Care for a smoke?”

“Not today, son. I hate to say but I have to hit the road soon. Was hoping I could have some of the famous Pomme hooch for a party I’m drawing out with a few close friends.”

Dash’s wide eyes hadn’t left the car since it came into sight. She barely even glanced at Filthy to ask, “Is that the new Raceabout?”

He gave a laugh, nodding. “Good eye, missy. That she is. Beaut, isn’t she? Got her for a steal from a man in Arkansas of all places.”

“‘Course ya did. When did a boy from Arkansas have common sense?” Applejack offered with a grin.

Filthy laughed, then looked back to Dash. “You have an interest in tin cans? Wanna see the girl up close?”

“Hell yeah I do!” she squealed, springing to life. In a split second her cigarette was out and she took a jump off the porch, halfway across the driveway before the rest of them could blink.

“W-we’ll get yer booze ready if yer willin’ ta humor the kid,” AJ offered.

Filthy gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Not a problem. Not often I have someone enthused by the wheels. I got to take advantage of it.”

The siblings nodded, then headed down into the cellar.

Their distillery wasn’t much on the eyes, either one would tell you that. Or, well, Applejack would, Mac would simply give a small half-tilt of his head. But what they made wasn’t just rot-gut, the kind of drink that would leave a Joe sick and blind. No. Through a little ingenuity, a little superior mash, and a whole lot of advice from their late grandma, the Pomme clan made the good stuff. The great stuff.

They made their way past a set of barrels with balloons covering them. It was a little trick they used to tell when fermentation was done, and it worked wonders, and made their way to the still.

It didn’t take them long to get a batch for Filthy, they had already distilled some hooch a few days prior, luckily for him, as otherwise it’d take about half a day to get the drink through the process. As it was now though, they simply loaded what they had into a set of mason jars and put them into a crate, making sure to seal it up tightly for the man.

“We should really get the tike ta learnin’ this,” Mac commented.

“I ain’t lettin’ her nowhere near this until I know she won’t catch the whole damn thing on fire,” AJ countered, giving a small run of her finger over the copper tubing of the still.

“Good point,” he answered.

Applejack gave a tilt back on the stetson she wore. “Ya think the folks woulda minded us doin’ this?”

Mac gave a shrug of his shoulders. “They gave us a recipe. They taught us this, Jacqueline.”

“A recipe before the whole nation became dry. An’ fer our own use. A family recipe fer family, not fer sellin’.”

“An’ what do ya think coca-cola is?” Mac replied.

“Well, a soda,” AJ replied, not sure what her brother was getting at, exactly.

The man tapped at his forehead. “Secret family recipe that one of them Coca boys decided ta share with the world,” he answered, giving a nod of his head as if it was the gospel truth. “Pretty sure I read it in a book.”

AJ bit her lip in thought. “Well, God knows ya read enough of ‘em. I guess they ain’t steered ya wrong yet.”

“Exactly,” he agreed.

“An’, hell, we’re a Christian-lovin’, church-goin’ family, why do a bunch of self-righteous prudes get ta decide if what we make ain’t fit fer drinkin’? They ain’t no better than us,” she said, a fire starting to come out in her words as she nodded with a bit more vigor as she continued to talk.

“Who’s done this brew makin’ fer years fer the community? Used it ta celebrate weddin’s? Who’s made the hooch ta cure a babe’s toothache?”

“The damn Pommes,” Mac simply said, giving a rise of the crate they held the drink in, to demonstrate.

“Damn right those Pomme sons-of-bitches did it!” she said with exuberance, grinning broadly as she slapped Mac’s back. A moment’s beat and she paused, looking with a bit of weariness at Mac. “An’ try ta cut back on the swearin’, sug. I think the kid’s pickin’ up yer bad habits.”

“Sorry.”

She put a fist to her palm, making a decision. “Uncle Sam can jus’ go ahead an’ suck an egg. I ain’t quit a job before, I ain’t quittin’ a job now. We’re gonna deliver this, an’ ya know what? I’m motivated enough ta make a batch ta celebrate an’ ol’ friend comin’ back ta visit too! Better watch yerself, Mac, I’mma drink you an’ that girl under the table.”

Mac gave a grin. “Jus’ make sure ya can work tomorrow. I don’t wanna haul you ‘round too.”

“Damn straight. I work better when I’m three sheets to the wind,” she answered with a wink. “Now let’s haul this stuff up. Thanks fer the pep talk, sug.”

“Damn right I give good pep talks,” he muttered to himself proudly, following up the stairs after her.

They came back to the car just as Dash brought the hood down, still talking with the passion of a religious zealot to Filthy and wiping the grime of the car off on the set of overalls she wore.

“...anyway, that’s what I’d do under there if I had the lettuce. Not that I’m ever gonna have lettuce, since I can’t find a garage that’ll hire a skirt. That’s what they say, at least, but they’re just green. They know I’d have a set of wheels I could race at Indy if I could just get a foot in the door.”

“I don’t know how you drive, kitten, but if you ride half as good as you steer your way around the guts of a rig...” Filthy trailed off, wiping his own hands on a kerchief from his breast pocket. He held it out for Dash, but noticed that she had already taken care of her hands and put it back into his pocket instead. “Most gals I know are clueless when it comes to the ride. Can’t tell an alternator from a pump. You though? Got a real head for it.”

“Probably the one damn thing she does have a head for,” AJ replied, smirking a bit as Dash stuck her tongue out at her. She looked over to Mac, who automatically headed towards Filthy’s car, loading the crate into the back. “Got ‘bout ten jars. That’ll keep yer company happy?”

“Should be more than enough, old sport. What’s the damage come to?” he asked, reaching to his wallet.

“Let’s jus’ call this an IOU. I ain’t figured out material cost fer a bit, so I’d need ta balance it out ta give ya a fair deal.”

Mac came back to the group by the front of the car. “When do ya figure out cost in the first place? Yer awful at math.”

“Shut up,” AJ replied automatically to the big man. Filthy looked between the siblings, nodding.

“Kippy, lads,” he nodded, putting up his wallet. “I’ll toss you an extra fiver next time we deal as interest, fair?”

“More than,” she agreed, tipping her hat. He gave a wave, turning to go the the door of the car.

“Sorry again about making tracks so quick, but you know how it goes, don’t you?” He paused, looking to Dash before pulling out his wallet again and offering a crisp business card.

“Show ‘em this if you’re ever wanting to make some scratch in a garage. If they give me a ring on the horn, I’ll vouch for you. Still don’t know if I’d trust you behind the wheel like up at the Indy, but anyone that can take care of the tin can is alright in my book.”

Dash grinned and stuck the card in her pocket. “Thanks! I’m coolin’ my heels here at my country estate just now, but when I get back in the swing of things I’ll have ‘em give you a ring!”

Donning his goggles, he gave a wave to the three and hopped in the car, taking off after a moment’s time.

Watching him go off, Applejack let out a whistle, slapping Dash’s back. “Ya musta impressed the boy, him givin’ ya a leg up with his card. Considerin’ what kinda idjit ya normally are, nice bluffin’.”

“No need to bluff when you’re on the level.” Dash smirked, poking AJ’s shoulder. “Some birds just don’t get how sharp I am right off.”

“Lucky them,” she countered. “That said, now that yer up, ya ready ta work off dinner? I know a bit of fence line that needs patched…”

“Will you look at the time? You know, I think I’ve got some big plans…” Dash laughed. “Nah, I guess I owe you. And patching fence can’t be too hard if you daisies do it all the time, right?”

AJ smirked. “Well, we’ll jus’ see, I reckon.”

“Uh, just point me at the fence patcher,” Dash said, glancing around in about every direction they could have been heading.

The afternoon hours vanished like seeds from a dandelion under a breeze. It wasn’t long before they were headed back to the house along the dirt road, gabbing as they went.

“...I can’t believe it took that much wire,” AJ muttered. “An’ can’t believe ya cracked the handles of my pliers.”

“They were rusty anyway. I don’t know how you can even work with tools like that.” Dash waved a hand.

“Because they still had some use in ‘em. We don’t have money fer the farm by throwin’ away things that work.”’

“Speaking of money…”

“Sis!” Alice called out over Dash’s remark. AJ looked over her shoulder to the girl and a smile split her face. The kid bounced along the road at a jog to catch up, the ribbon in her crimson hair bobbing along with every footstep.

“Heya, sweet pea,” AJ said, dropping down to her knee and spreading her arms. The kid ran forward, catching a hug from the woman, then giving a tug to Dash’s arm.

“Yeah, yeah, I see you, no need to blow your wig, kid,” Dash grumbled out, but gave an affectionate pat of Alice’s head despite her words.

“So, what ‘bout money?” Applejack asked. Dash shrugged.

Dash hesitated. “I, uh, was just thinking that it was pretty generous of you giving that Filthy cat your hooch for free. I’d want some money first, that’s all, dollface.”

AJ raised her brow but said nothing. When Dash laid out the compliments, that was usually the perfect time to worry, from the farmer’s own experience over the years when dealing with her. That troublemaking smirk she had, the way she puffed her flat chest out like some proud bird as she schemed. It drove AJ crazy, and she already felt the faint tinges of a warm blush at her cheeks.

Blush? she thought, the word odd to her when it came to Dash. Not wanting to dwell on it, she gave a pat to Alice.

“Go get washed up fer dinner, pumpkin. Me an’ the string-bean’ll follow right after ya.”

Alice nodded and moved on ahead. AJ thought she was a great kid, would turn out probably better than she herself did. Already had shown she was a wizz at math, and, the gearhead to her right aside, was the most mechanically-wired person AJ knew.

After a moment’s pause, Applejack sighed, scratching at her brow. “Alright. What’s rattlin’ in that empty head of yers that virgin ears can’t hear?”

“Just a thought.” Dash studied her always-dirty fingernails. “Like, you know how you said you’d wanna help me out if you could?”

“I did,” AJ agreed with a nod. “What kinda scheme ya draggin’ me inta?”

“No scheme! It’s no scheme! Just a favor. I know this kitten who runs a juice joint in the city… and you’ve got juice…” Dash trailed off, eyeing AJ carefully.

“Yer wanting me to run hooch?” AJ replied, raising a brow. “Seems kinda risky, don’t it? The girl yer talkin’ bout on the up and up? There ain’t no chance we get played, right?”

“No way!” Dash grinned. “Pinkie’s on the level, no question. She’s a barrel of laughs, a real live wire, but that end is tied up tight.”

She leaned back her head in thought on the transaction, going through the motions of a checklist. “So score some of the good stuff fer her an’ take it up. Problem, though. Got wheels? Too risky ta take it onto the train.”

Dash raised an eyebrow at AJ. “We know a fella who’s got wheels…”

At that, the farmer paused, her eye twitching a hair. “Ya ain’t talkin’ ‘bout who I think ya are, right, sug? There’s someone else I’m forgetting with a rig, right? Don’t tell me...”

“It’s gotta be the fastest boiler in this county!” Dash nudged AJ, grinning. “We’d be nuts if we didn’t try to get it off him!”

“You’ve gone an’ done it,” AJ grumbled, putting a hand to her face. “The city’s gone an’ made ya whacky. Even if he loans it to us—an’ he won’t—if we so much as scratch that, he’ll kill us an’ I’ll lose out on one of the best clients in town fer not only the hooch, but fer my crops too.” She paused, another thought coming to her. “An’ do ya even know how ta handle a tin can? Ain’t never even seen ya drive before.”

“Do I know how to handle a tin can?” Dash’s incredulous look contained a hint of a smile. “Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m the best racer in the country! I mean, they won’t let me really race, but I won every damn time I got a shot on the back roads outside the city. This one time I got up to seventy miles per hour in a God damn Ford!”

“Seventy?” Applejack repeated, a smile threatening to come out on hearing the number. “God’s honest? There’s no way. Is there? How’d ya manage that?”

Dash just smirked and poked AJ in the shoulder. “I’m. The. Tops.”

“Top of the twits, maybe,” Applejack countered, giving an affectionate flick of a finger to Dash’s forehead. “Though maybe I’ll keep ya ‘round fer entertainment, girl.” She shook her head. “If you can promise me ya ain’t gonna wreck his wheels, we’ll go talk ta him ‘bout borrowin’ the ride. I’m gonna trust ya here, sug. Don’t let me down.”

“It’ll be fine, AJ. A regular cake walk. Just nice joy ride into the city, then home before Alice has her pajamas on.” Dash smiled. “I’d never steer you wrong.”

“An’ the snake that got Eve was a real trustworthy fella too,” she replied, but matched Dash’s smile regardless. “Alright. Guess ya fed me enough honey inta my ear. We’ll give this a shot, alright? But if it ends up bein’ a bad deal, yer shovelin’ grain fer me until yer eighty.”

Dash raised an eyebrow. “You want me around that bad, huh?”

“I—” AJ felt herself stumble at the joke, feeling a foreign flutter in her chest. She brushed it aside as quickly as she could and let out a derisive snort instead. “The only way I know ya ain’t gonna get inta an even worse pickle is if I got my eyes on ya, genius.”

Dash threw her arm around Applejack’s back “No more pickles for me. It’s blue skies from here on out.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, sug,” AJ remarked. She leaned in a bit to the arm and gave a small smile at her friend’s promise, the woman so cocksure Applejack couldn’t help but be bemused by it. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Chapter 2

The Raceabout was a hell of a ride, AJ found out as Dash gunned it down the dirt road leading out of town. The path flew underneath them, being swallowed by the thundering engine like a behemoth with an unquenchable appetite. As AJ held onto the door for dear life, Dash let out a loud whoop, blowing hard on a turn and giving a raise of the driver’s cap she wore atop her head.

“Ain’t natural fer someone ta be goin’ this fast!” Applejack called out to her compatriot, holding down the stetson atop her head, fearful a gust of wind would separate it in a heartbeat.

“No need to blow your wig! I got this under control. Just sit back and I’ll do all the work, hot mama.”

“Hot mama?” AJ repeated. “What are ya on, ya egg?”

Dash smirked, looking back onto the road. “Well, in that dress that shows off your gams, what else would I call you?”

“Shut up,” AJ automatically replied to another laugh from Dash. “Evelyn Hammett, I don’t wanna hear it. I did it ta look the part when asking Filthy fer the car. Only right ta approach him in the Sunday best when askin’ a favor.” She shook her head with an easy roll of her eyes. “Better than what you got. Don’t ya get a bunch of funny looks, dressed like a man? What’s the point?”

“Point is, I wear what I want, when I want.” Dash turned hard on the road again, prompting a surprised yelp from Applejack. “Who cares what other people think?”

“I don’t,” AJ countered quickly. “You of all people should know that. But I also know ya lure a lot more flies ta honey than vinegar.”

“Now, come on, I think you’d taste better than just regular old honey, dollface.”

AJ let a single laugh out amid the heat coming to her cheeks. “Do ya even listen ta yerself when ya talk?”

“Just sometimes. I tend to tune in to the show and listen to just the best bits.”

AJ’s eyes shot open at a thought. “Damn. Speakin’ of shows, jus’ realized I’m gonna miss the Grand Ole Opry tonight. Wish these tin cans had a radio.”

“Like that’d ever happen,” Dash dismissed with a wave of her hand. “Besides, it’d drown out my swell talking. That’s no good at all.”

AJ turned her head and easily looked over the headrest of her seat. Their package sat comfortably in front of the spare tire, tied down with a spool of rope. Though they had covered it with cloth and within a second crate, AJ still felt paranoid on it being out in the open and she turned forward again, rubbing at her mouth in thought.

“Yer gal should net us some extra cabbage fer hazardous transport too,” Applejack said. “It’s bad enough that I had to give a half-truth ta Filthy on why we needed the car, but if a copper catches wind that we’re haulin’ this much of the good stuff…?” She let a hand rise and fall.

“Then you give him a show of your own good stuff, that’ll stall him enough for us to get out of there!” Dash answered with a flap of her hand, once more indifferent to what she was saying.

The girl embodied freedom in every sense of the word. No restraint, no care what other people thought of her, just living her life. Free and, to Applejack, beautiful in her wild and carefree way. Not physically, though. Dash’s body was reminiscent of an adolescent man’s: lean, thin, a bustline so empty it might as well be nonexistent, a boyish face.

But nice hips an’ a caboose so big an’ fine it should be ridin’ rear on a train, Applejack thought with a smirk. She froze.

Why would I like that? she thought to herself, alarmed. Shouldn’t she like that Dash was built more like a man, rather than letting her mind wander down south on the dame?

Ya shouldn’t like how Dash is lookin’ period, her thoughts warned. Swallowing, Applejack stared out toward the passing scenery instead of the tasty dish at her side, trying to get her ducks in a row.

“So,” she clumsily started off, “how much longer do ya reckon it is to the city?”

“We’re still a few hours shy. No need to wear yourself out with excitement,” Dash remarked, glancing at the rearview mirror as they passed by a man on a bicycle.

“Aside from makin’ a damn fool of yerself on gamblin’, how ya likin’ the city?”

Dash stared at the road for a moment, then she smiled. “It’s grand, ya’ know? A real wild time.”

“Sounds like you,” AJ answered with a smile. “Parties, rambling every which way, gettin’ tugged all over the place. Bet you an’ that Belle girl are like two peas in a pod up there.”

Rarity Belle, to be specific. The beautiful canary had grown up with Dash and AJ, her family and AJ’s own both fresh off the boat together when they had traveled from France to the new world generations ago. They butted heads quite a bit on, well, most of everything, but AJ was still happy to call her a close family friend.

“We went to some parties. Not that I could get at her— the goofs all buzzed around her like flies on shit. One time these two college fellas were all the way lit up, and they decided to fight a duel over her. A real, on the level duel.” Dash giggled.

“Holy shit,” AJ bluntly remarked, both amused and a bit concerned. “Anyone get killed? An’ what the Sam Hill Rare think of that?”

“They went out in the street, and one guy tried to pull out a gun and shot his damn hand. That was enough to bring the coppers, so everyone scrammed. I caught up with Rarity later, she was glad no one died, but not all that down that the thing went south. She said it served ‘em right, she told ‘em it was bonkers from the start.”

Jack shook her head in bemusement. “I don’t know if trouble finds her, or if she finds trouble sometimes. Though I’m sure she’s not too upset she’s got a body that drives a Joe wild an’ a voice to match. Anyone that goes hearin’ ‘bout how two people fought a duel over her’ll drum up business at the club, I betcha.”

Dash laughed. “She’s the hot ticket. You know she’s eating it up, too. Swanky parties, flashy dresses… of course, if the style gets any shorter she’s gonna need flashy underwear too. I mean, the girl’s got gams, and ya’ can’t help noticing that, right? But I think I’ve seen more of hers than I have of my own.”

“Shame. You could give her a run fer her money,” AJ remarked. “Jus’ gotta let ‘em come out and play sometimes instead of hidin’ ‘em away in pants.”

Dash was quiet for just a moment, shifting in her seat. Then she grinned. “Did I tell you I got to go to an airfield? I even took a spin in a plane!”

“Oh yeah? What was it like?”

“It was the tops! It’s like driving, but you’re free, ya’ know? Nothing holding you down, no road to stay on. And the rest of the world’s spread out down there like a toy. And the sky… there’s so much sky up there, AJ. So much sky it’ll make your head spin!” She glanced at Applejack, locking eyes for a second. “It was awesome. I’m looking at how to get a pilot’s license.”

There was something in Dash’s eyes, in her whole body. Applejack was used to the way she lit up when she saw a set of wheels, Dash had been like that since the first car rolled through town when they were just kids. The other children were content to crowd around and stare, looking at their reflections in the shiney chrome headlamps, but not Dash; as the fella came out of the store, focused on remembering the directions he got, Dash had jumped on the back of the Model T and held on as he started to drive off, bouncing and kicking up dust on the rutted dirt road. Applejack remembered watching, slackjawed, sure that nut was going to crack her fool head open as the car picked up speed.

Dash had hopped off just outside of town limits, covered in scratches and sap from a hard landing in pine sapling. But the whole time Rarity and Applejack took turns lecturing her and trying to get her cleaned up there was a starry-eyed look about the girl that wouldn't wash off.

This was that same look, but with a certainty and peace Applejack had never seen in her best friend. She wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Is that tough? I don’t suppose they let jus anyone fly one’a them things.”

“Oh, I could do it easy.” Dash sighed, her face falling slightly. “I mean, I just have to get some flight time in…”

“Aw, hell. Yer scary enough on ground. Can’t believe they’re willin’ ta give ya wings too.” The farmer laughed. But regardless, she flashed a quick ‘ok’ symbol—making a circle with her index and thumb—and her grin widened. “You’ve wanted this for a while, though, haven’t ya? I’m happy ta hear it’s comin’ up aces, sug, really.”
Dash’s grin seemed frozen as she looked at the road. “Yup. Aces. Hey, what about you? I bet you’ve been growing all kinds of swanky corn or whatever, right?” She relaxed and glanced at AJ.

It was the farmer’s turn to freeze. She gave a small rise and fall of her hands. “I can’t lie ta ya, sug. It’s still a blessin’ seein’ Mac an’ the kid growin’ up, an’ I’m proud of ‘em every day I see ‘em, but, hell, I’ve…” Rolling her tongue in her mouth, she seemed almost to be tasting the words in her mouth before finally settling on one that was least offensive to her palate. “Been kinda lonely, sug. Ain’t got any right ta say that with the family an’ neighbors I got, but that’s the God’s honest truth. I’ve missed ya.”

Dash glanced at her again. Then she looked back at the road and swallowed. “Well, sure you do. Who wouldn’t miss me?” She paused and shot another glance at AJ. “But… you’ve got a swell life out there, you know.”

“Yeah,” AJ agreed after a beat, crossing her arms and looking towards the road in thought. “I know.”

“AJ…” Dash’s face seems like a battlefield for a few seconds. “AJ, if you wanna come stay in the city for a while, when I get this patched up, I’ll show you the joint. But… it can be rough.” She bit her lip and repeated, “You’ve got a swell life out there.”

“Rough never scared me,” AJ answered. She gave a flex of her bicep, springing the muscle to life in demonstration. “Ain’t scared of holdin’ my own either. City should be scared of us bein’ too rough.” After a beat, she gave a slight shove to Dash in a manner she hoped came as joking, rather than a hint wishful. “But if it’s so swell where I’m at, maybe I should be invitin’ you ta come an’ stay.”

“If you’d just turn the barn into a hangar, I’d be there in a second.” Dash laughed. “We could make the cornfields a runway, and I’d be all set. I’d take you flying.”

“Promase not ta crash us?” AJ offered. “Guess I could pitch in, get ya some nice goggles or somethin’, if yer willin’ ta build the hangar.”

“When my ship comes in, I’ll hold you to that.” Dash flashed a smile. “But my ship’s been running late, so… I wouldn’t be checking your watch.”

“I’ll wait fer ya,” AJ said sincerely, turning once more to look at Dash. “Runnin’ late ain’t never comin’, so… so I reckon it wouldn’t hurt ta wait. Even if the ship takes some time ta dock.”

Dash looked over, holding eye contact for a few seconds. She was still smiling, but there was something sad around her eyes and the corners of her mouth. “Thanks… I mean…” She shook her head and looked back at the road. “Uh… I think we’re gonna need to stop for gas soon. This thing’s a real hayburner.”

Applejack sighed, tapping at her temple. “Figures. Looks, speed, but heaven forbid good miles in the tank. Alright. An’ when we get ta the station, how ‘bout a coke? My treat.”

“Sounds grand.”

“An’ Dash?” Applejack offered, her expression grim as she took stock of the woman. “If, uh, if ya need ta get somethin’ off yer chest, ya know ya can talk ta me, right, sug?”

Dash bit her lip and looked down. “Well… I guess it’s been getting to me… I mean, I just can’t help thinking…” She looked up and glanced at AJ with a wicked smirk. “It’s a crime you don’t wear skirts as short as Rarity’s. You’ve got way better gams.” Then she burst out laughing.

AJ stared at her for a long moment. Then, finally, she felt her own mouth smile and she joined in on the laugh.

They puttered down the way a bit longer, until, finally, they came to a small filling station next to a diner. AJ’s stomach growled at the thought of a milk shake, but she knew if she got one and her little sister didn’t, there’d be hell to pay at the house, so she instead went into the station and abandoned her want for ice cream. But she’d be damned if she forgot her cokes.

The teller smiled, looking between him and out at the single car parked in the lot.

“Bit of a thirsty job, drivin’,” he commented, taking AJ’s cents and giving a few pennies in change.

“I’ll take it over haulin’ hay, at least,” Applejack replied with a grin.

“Gal your size? Hay’d be easy. Like you were made from the seed of Paul Bunyan,” he chuckled. “Dwarf your boyfriend out there.”

“What?” Applejack asked, taken aback.

“That little fella in the suit by your car,” he explained, pointing over to it. AJ looked and froze. Her ‘boyfriend’, as it were, was standing there, looking frustrated as she talked with a police officer. AJ froze midstep, almost wanting to pinch herself to wake up from this nightmare.

“Y-yeah…” AJ finally muttered out, stumbling numbly to the door. “Better, better get back on the road.”

She stepped out and approached the two as they looked at one another, the conversation bubbling, close to simmering over, but not yet there, waiting for something to tip it to the breaking point.

As she neared, first the officer, then Dash looked over at her. Dash’s eyes went wide, she seemed to be trying to mentally telegraph something to Applejack. The officer, an older man with a couple dozen extra pounds on him, just nodded and tipped his hat.

“Afternoon, Miss. This your friend here? Miss… Hammett?”

Applejack gave her best saleswoman smile, doing her damndest to hide her raw nerves. “Howdy officer, hope the day’s been treatin’ ya well. An’ eyup. That’s her name.”

The officer looked her up and down. “Miss Hammett says you gals are headed for the city. That true?”

Her gaze flicked briefly to Dash, then returned to the cop. She nodded in confirmation.

He nodded slowly. “And would ya’ mind telling me your business there?”

“I—” Dash started, but the officer glared at her.

“I already asked you, girlie. I’m asking your friend.”

Applejack rubbed the back of her head and let out a small hum. “Well, officer, we’re doin’ a few things there today. But, uh, big on the agenda is visitin’ a friend of ours.”

“She’s in the show!” Dash added quickly. “Rarity Belle. She headlines—”

“Uh-huh.” The officer frowned at Dash, then at Applejack. “And I guess the two of you don’t have a couple flasks of liquor, to make the evening a party?”

“It’s a dry country, officer. Gotta wet yer whistle other ways,” she answered, raising the cokes she held in between her thick fingers.

“Yeah, and everyone knows half of the stuff going around now’ll blind ya’,” Dash added, nodding.

“Smart girls,” he said, giving Dash a hard look, then lingering on Applejack for a moment. Dash squirmed like a current was running through her, and it took all of AJ’s effort not to do the same.

The officer finally went on, “In that case, I suppose you ladies won’t mind if I have a look in this automobile?”

“What for, officer?” AJ asked, swallowing. “Ain’t two ladies entitled ta some privacy?”

He nodded. “Ladies should be, Miss. But we get a lot of those flappers through here, on their way to the clubs and speakeasies. You have to keep an eye out or some girlie might get herself into trouble.” He glanced at Dash. “If you girls are ladies, you shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”

Dash shot Applejack a panicked look.

“Got a warrant?” AJ blurted out as a last, desperate defense against the officer’s questions. “Flappers or not, due process keeps us from all bein’ animals.”

The officer narrowed his eyes. “If I’m going to need a warrant, I’ll have to ask you ladies to stay put while I ring up the judge.”

Applejack tried to be a good woman. She really did. Law-abiding, honest, friendly. But sometimes all three could only get you so far. Sometimes you had to throw your weight around, do things the old fashioned way. Thankfully, like most Pommes, she had a lot of weight to throw around.

That in mind, she tightened her fist and, in a flash, snapped forward, striking the officer across the jaw and stumbling him to a knee.

“Gas it!” Applejack called out to Dash, already running and jumping into the car.

Dash had her door open in an instant, and threw herself behind the wheel. She jammed the key into the ignition and revved it to life, then took off, blasting down the road.

“Son of a bitch, son of a bitch,” AJ hissed out, running her hands through her hair. “I can’t believe I jus’ did that.”

“Yeah, good work! He’ll really believe us now!” Dash countered, turning hard.

“W-we might still be good, though. I cold-cocked him decent, maybe—”

From behind them came the roar of a police siren, and soon, red and blue lights.

“Yeah, sure. You got him good. He’s still back there on the ground,” Dash dryly replied.

“Shut the hell up, what else was I supposed ta do?!”

“Let me handle shit! I had him by the ring of my finger!”

“Yeah,” AJ dryly snapped back. “I’m sure ya did.”

There came a junction in the road, a path to the right and left. Flipping on her blinker, Dash feigned going left, then, at the last second, turned right, narrowly dodging a wooden fence line. The cop chased after them, still hot on their heels and unphased by the bluff.

“Hope ya have more tricks than that!” AJ snapped out.

“Of course,” Dash countered, her grin wild. “Know what’s up ahead?”

“What?”

“Dead end.”

“What?!” AJ exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Dash nodded, unfazed. “They’re working on building a bridge across a small ravine. He’s gotta know that, but he doesn’t know that I know that.”

“What would the damn plan be?! Don’t matter if ya know that!” AJ shouted, slapping Dash’s arm.

“AJ,” Dash said, her easygoing mannerisms gone in a heartbeat, replaced by a steely stare. “Trust me.”

AJ grimaced, but did as she was told, spitting out the side of the door. “Hell,” was all she muttered.

Up ahead came an obvious drop off with signs warning about the approaching. Five hundred feet to road’s end. Two hundred. Fifty. Still Dash revved the engine, burning the packed dirt underneath her. Right when AJ shut her eyes and covered her head with her hands did Dash turn, spinning them suddenly and wildly, turning them completely around, the car facing where they traveled from.

“What was that?!” AJ asked, sucking in mouthfuls of air and turning to look behind her. The drop-off sat, no more than ten feet at the most behind their rear tires.

“The first step of my plan,” Dash replied smugly. She looked to AJ, a wild, toothy grin present. “Here’s the second.” So saying, she gunned the car to its limits, putting the pedal to the metal and aiming straight for the oncoming police car.

“Dash,” AJ warned. Dash pressed on, oblivious to AJ’s mutterings.

“Dash,” the farmer called out, this time more sternly as the cop came towards them, close enough that AJ could see his silhouette from behind the wheel.

“Jesus Christ, Dash!” AJ bellowed as Dash charged forward, white knuckled and yelling. With impact seconds, mere seconds away, AJ saw the cop clear as day inside the cab of his car. He stared at them, unbelieving as Dash charged forward with suicidal abandon. Finally broken, the cop veered to the side and off the road to avoid hitting them as Dash barrelled through, doubling-back down the road.

AJ felt like vomiting, she leaned back in her chair and did her best to avoid hyperventilating as Dash seemed to wind down once they came back to the innersection. She casually turned her blinker on right and went down the opposite road they came, then took her soda from AJ’s trembling hands. Popping the cap off with a pull of her teeth, she took a sip.

“See?” Dash asked, “told you I had this.”

“Pull over,” AJ growled out once her breath came to her. She didn’t bother to look at Dash as she made the command.

“What do you mean, pull over?” Dash raised an eyebrow.

“Pull the Goddamn car over right now!” AJ barked, slamming a fist into the dashboard.

Dash glared at her, and jerked the car to the side of the road. “You wanna wait up for that copper to get himself turned around? Not fair if we get a head start?”

Without hesitation, AJ reached forward, slapping Dash across the face. “Ya almost got us killed, you crazy bitch!” She threw open the door and slammed it shut, still glaring daggers at the woman.

Dash’s mouth dropped open. “I saved your Goddamn life!”

“Yeah, uh-huh, by almost killin’ us in the process.” She took a few steps away, then approached the car again, putting her hand to forehead. “What if that cop didn’t react like ya planned? What then? We’d be two stiffs in the morgue! Jesus, Dash!”

“I told you to trust me!” Dash opened her car door and got out, slamming it shut behind her. She turned and rested her hands on the ledge, leaning over the car. “I know my onions, okay? I know what I can do, and I know cars, and I know cops. I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you! And you’re sore at that?”

“You might know cars an’ cops, but you sure as hell don’t know people. I’m sore because ya did somethin’ so unbelievably genius that it, by all accounts, should of got us killed! How can ya not get that, ya damn idiot!” She roared, clenching her jaw so tightly it popped. “Ya put it down ta a roll of dice on us gettin’ through that in one piece, Evelyn Hammett.” She wiped at her eyes, furious pinpricks of tears threatened to spill out. “So, yeah, I’m plenty sore at jus’ ‘bout everythin’ ya pulled there.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but it worked! I’m the damn hero here!” Dash slammed a hand down on the car door with a bang. “And ya’ know what? I’m not the genius that punched a copper! That was all you, dollface!”

“Don’t you call me that!” AJ snapped, stepping around the car and approaching Dash. “What else should I have done, huh? Shown him the goods? He obviously pegged us ‘cause you were being yer usual asshole ‘my way or the road’ self! Maybe if ya had jus’ minded yer manners, we never would of got where we are.”

Dash narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know what you’re even talking about. Maybe out in Bumfuck you can get by with ‘Yes sir’ and ‘No ma’am,’ but that’s not how it works in the real world. I learned my lessons, and I can take care of myself, and I can take care of you if you wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass about it!”

AJ rolled her eyes, then pointed a stern finger at Dash. “Yeah, you’d take real good care of me. Let’s think ‘bout whose brew is in the back? Let’s think about who’s reputation is on the line if we fuck this up. Let’s think ‘bout who’s needin’ money because she can’t even take care of her damn finances! Actin’ so damn tough and experienced when ya can’t even control yer damn whims! If the realworld is so bad, so big an’ tough, then why’d ya leave? Did ya hate it back home that bad?” She rammed a thumb into her own chest. “Did ya hate me that bad? Huh?!” she bellowed, a step away from a raging bull.

Dash stood motionless and looked up at her. “No, I don’t hate you. I hate your Goddamn farm!”

“Guess what?” AJ coldly replied, “the farm is a part of me. That farm is part of my family. That farm has years an’ years of my blood, sweat an’ tears down in its roots. Tellin’ me that ya hate my farm, well…?” she shook her head, letting out a huff. “It’s jus’ the same as ya hatin’ me.”

Dash looked down with a grimace, then turned around and rested her hands on the door of the Raceabout. “Just get in the car.”

“No,” AJ replied. The word simple, but speaking volumes.

“I said get in the damn car,” Dash growled.

“Dash. I’m mad as hell at ya, but I’m sayin’ this fer a reason. That cop’s gonna get his precinct on the horn. He an’ his boys’ll be lookin’ fer the Raceabout. Better ta lay low until the heat dies down.” She crossed her arms. “Though ta be honest, I don’t wanna ride with ya right now anyway.”

“All I wanna do is get this hooch sold. Then I’ll be outta your hair forever. I know I can outrun them, I already did.” Dash looked at Applejack, who didn’t move a muscle. They stared at each other for a few long moments, neither budging, before Dash sighed.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way.”

“Good. Get it pulled off the road. I’ll try an’ get us a lil’ camp set up.” AJ took a step away, then paused, looking over her shoulder. “An’ you in my hair ain’t bad, Dash. I jus’...” Not sure what else to say, she made her way towards a sparse collection of trees in the distance.

Chapter 3

The hours passed. Night fell on the two, dispelled only by a sparse camp fire that AJ had struck up. A racoon lay, slain on a spit atop the fire, missing a leg. Applejack wordlessly gnawed at the appendage, not exactly savoring the greasy meat, but stomaching it. She looked over to Dash and said nothing for a long while, before coughing, drawing the woman away from staring past the wide field they found themselves in and at the line of brown road that snaked across the horizon.

The Raceabout had been parked behind a large elderberry brush, obscured from the road and safe from prying eyes. For a few hours at least, they were safe.

“Gonna eat?” Applejack quietly asked, wiping at the grease on her chin, choosing to ignore the spot that had dribbled down her chin and landed at her dress’s neckline. “This guy’s got enough on him fer us both.”

“That thing looks like a cooked cat,” Dash said, not moving from her spot.

“Cat tastes better,” AJ admitted after a beat. Though her family had more money nowadays, it wasn’t always so rosy. She had done her fair share of game catching—a lot of the folks around town said the Pomme children inherited their hunting skill from her mother, an Osage Indian. AJ wasn’t sure if that was the fact, but if so, it was another thing she owed her family—because of this, she had had quite a bit of experience with some of the more questionable meats dotting God’s green earth. She reached into a pocket, pulling out a switchblade. Flicking it open, she reached forward, cutting off its other leg and holding it out for Dash. “But I know yer hungry, so beggars can’t be choosers.”

Dash gave a snort and turned her head away, but after a few seconds she turned back and took the leg. She took a fearless bite and shrugged. “Not bad. Thanks.”

“Mmm,” AJ grunted out. Wiping her hands on her dress, she leaned forward, resting her chin on an arm and tried to think of what needed said. The air still hadn’t been cleared from their last engagement, and there was a certain sharpness above their camp. The sword of Damocles dangled above them, a single hard breath enough to break it and drop it clattering down upon their heads.

“Dash,” AJ quietly said, then paused, unsure how to continue. She didn’t want to apologize—had nothing to apologize for—but at the same time, the tension she felt here with the girl ate her away inside and so she looked to her instead, hoping her expression, her frown and weary eyes would say everything that needed said.

“Yeah?” Dash met her eyes. AJ could see the hard lines of her face, the thin shell the girl always tried to hide behind. But it never could hide the truth from AJ; Dash’s eyes were still full of wounded pride and shame. AJ knew that could be a touchy combination in a wildcat like Dash, so she wasn’t surprised by the terse reply.

Applejack crossed her arms, thinking, trying to approach it in a way that they wouldn’t lose their cool with one-another.

“Alice said she hated me the other day,” the farmer offered after a beat. “Me an’ the brother caught the girl tryin’ ta make some hooch on her own. I got scared that she’d hurt herself so I slapped her. She said that ta both of us an’ ran off.” AJ tossed another branch into the fire, where it snapped and popped, the flames dancing in the night air. “Mac, bless his heart, took it pretty hard. Me too. That hurt me more than anythin’ ya could ever hit me with. Hearin’ someone ya love with everythin’ ya got sayin’ that, well…” She shrugged. “But I know sometimes idiots from all walks-a life spit fire before they think ‘bout things. We all got our reasons.”

“Guess next time I’ll ask Alice for help, in that case.” Dash came close to cracking a smile, then popped another piece of meat in her mouth. After she swallowed, she sighed. “I don’t hate your farm, AJ. Your farm is swell.”

“I know ya didn’t mean it, sug. An’ I know you can take care of yerself. Ya ain’t helpless by any means.” AJ crossed her arms, tapping at her bicep in thought. She gave a weak smile after a beat. “Though still could use some money lessons from Mac.”

“I guess.” Dash gave a huff. She looked up at the sky and her face started to relax. “AJ? I’m sorry I pulled you into this mess. This wasn’t how I meant it to play out.”

“Don’t apologize,” AJ answered. “Even if I’m spittin’ fire, even if I don’t think I was wrong back there, I... “ She gave an adjustment at the neckline of her dress as she tried to form words that seemed elusive to her. Words close to her heart. “Everything that happened happened fer a reason. I ain’t gonna question providence. Ya comin’ back was worth this. I meant it when I said I missed ya earlier. Don’t think otherwise.”

“Me and providence aren’t real chummy these days, but…” Dash swallowed and looked over at AJ. “That means a lot to me.”

“You and providence are closer than ya think. Yer like a little guardian angel ta me. Though yer wings are a bit burnt,” AJ said. “An’ I think ya lost yer halo somewhere down the road.” Her smile widened. “Ya think yer girl would miss a jar of the good stuff? Maybe we have a bit of a makeshift dessert ta wash down the main course.”

Dash cracked a real smile for the first time in hours. “Nah. I know Pinkie, she’d probably rough me up if we didn’t try to make it a good time.” She hopped to her feet and headed to the car, returning, free of her suit jacket and vest, with a bottle of the Pomme’s finest.

“My mouth’s waterin’ already. Ain’t proper ta boast ‘bout yer own work, but…” AJ’s grin was sly as she rubbed her leg. “Hell, when am I proper?”

“I knew I liked ya’ for a reason.” Dash gave a snort of laughter and opened the bottle. She offered it to AJ. “First shot for the dame.”

“Age before beauty, as Rarity would say,” Applejack remarked with a laugh, taking a pull and offering a hard smile as the hooch went down, burning bliss all the way. After sucking in a breath, recovering from the drink, she offered the bottle back to Dash. “Think it’s yer turn, kitten.”

Dash grabbed it and took a long swig. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve and sat down where she was standing, just a few feet from AJ, placing the bottle between them. “Now that’s the good stuff.”

“The best stuff,” Applejack agreed. “Though my grandma did it even better. She had a version she made—from memory, the crazy broad—tasted exactly like apple pie. Ya wanna talk a drink that makes ya think someone slipped a mickey inta from how fast it catches ya off guard? That’s the one.” She gave a carefree, pure laugh soaked in nostalgia. “First time I tried it? Woke up in the fields with a cow lickin’ my face.”

“Well I guess I only asked if you had a fella… I didn’t think to ask about the livestock!” Dash snorted, then dissolved into giggles.

AJ leaned over, giving a playful punch to Dash’s shoulder. “Aw, cram it ya putz. If ya loved the wheels over there any more, I’d wonder if you two said vows yet.”

Dash smirked. “Nah, that kitten’s a gold-digger. I just know how to get her to to put out.”

AJ’s expression turned coy as she took in stock of the lithe woman beside her and she took another sip of the drink, it loosening her more prudish tongue.

“Frankly, sug, anythin’ ya touch has a good chance of puttin’ out. You’ve got some dexterity in the digits, after all.” The farmer offered the drink back to Dash, grinning cheekily.

Dash took a drink, eyeing AJ with a smile. “I do have a lot of talents. And I’ve been known to show off for folks who’ll really appreciate ‘em.” She offered AJ the bottle, her eyebrows cocked in a challenge.

AJ laughed, light-headed and blissful from the drink. Even then, she took the bottle and downed another pull. “No damn kiddin’. You’ve always been a show off. One thing I bet’ll never change ‘bout ya. Woe ta the man that tries ta pin ya down, sister. He’ll have his hands so full he’ll need ta use his feet ta keep on ya.” Debating, she swallowed once again, then offered the bottle to her companion. “I’d be almost jealous of ‘em,” she admitted with a bemused shake of her head.

A shadow crossed Dash’s face, and she snatched the bottle and threw it back with a long gulp. She looked at it and shook her head. “Not gonna happen. I’m done with that jazz. Any man who thinks he’s gonna catch me can go to hell.” She took another swig before gesturing with it towards AJ.

The farmer took it without complaint, giving it a slosh in the bottle before swallowing it down again. “I forget how much a lil’ gal like you can down. Lil’ more trainin’ an’ you’ll be ready ta match me shot fer shot.” She mulled over Dash’s words for a moment, before rolling a shoulder. “I’ll agree that romance ain’t everythin’ in life. No need ta try an’ hunt it down while ya got work ta do, ya know? But I dunno. I don’t think it’s everythin’, but it’s somethin’. Somethin’ I want ya ta have some day. Want ya ta be my full-package hot mama, a stick-a dynamite restin’ near a batch-a matches.” She gave a tap to her temple, treating the words as if they were sage advice. And, perhaps to her in her fast-approaching drunkenness, they approached something mystical and etched in truth. She gave the drink back to Dash.

Dash frowned at the bottle, then shook her head violently. “Don’t want it. Ya’ know what that stuff is, AJ? ‘S a trap.” She took a drink. “’S all a trap.”

Looking at Dash, then the bottle, AJ raised a brow. “The drink?” she guessed, misunderstanding. “Only if ya don’t know when ta stop, like anythin’, sug. If it was a real trap, I’d never sell it.”

“Not the hooch. Romance. Wanna ride, dollface? Ya’ like cars? Wanna see a plane? Wanna learn to fly? That’s how they get ya’, then BAM!” Dash slammed down the bottle, the liquor sloshing inside. “Ha! Nope! Just trying to catch a skirt. Can’t have it, can only have the damn fella that has it.”

“They ain’t all like that,” AJ countered. She looked to the bottle and with a small shrug, took it once more, swallowing another mouthful. “Mac’d never do that. An’ Filthy, hell, I know he wouldn’t be chasin’ a skirt, yet here we are with his tin can. Add onta that card he gave ya, an, well...” After another tap at her bare bicep, her expression turned thoughtful. “What yer talkin’ ‘bout with those fellas ain’t romance. That’s jus’ a wolf tryin’ ta find a sheep ta gobble up. Big difference. I know I ain’t got much experience in that department, but still. I got enough common sense in me ta know yer bein’ blinded.”

“There’s too many wolves in the city, AJ. Too Goddamn many wolves, and all I can do is show ‘em I’m no sheep. ‘S why rolled so high. Not a dame when you can put up the lettuce with the old boys. But—” she cringed. “I gotta be there. Can’t be home where it’s safe, can’t fly there. There’s no place I can be me. ‘Cept with you.”

“Then be with me,” AJ answered, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. She took another drink, noting with some glumness that the bottle was about to give up the ghost. “My house is yer house, Dash. My family is yer family. Mac, Alice, they’re yer kin. I love ya, we all love ya, sug. Ain’t ‘bout bein’ safe. It’s ‘bout feelin’ like ya belong somewhere. An’ maybe ya belong at the house. We’ll save up some bread over the next couple of years an’ get ya one-a those.” She gestured over to the Raceabout. “Hell, we’ll eventually get ya two. One jus’ fer show.” Grinning, she offered the bottle one more time to the woman. “Sounds ta me like a bit-a heaven.”

Dash just stared at her. She set down the bottle without taking a drink. “I want a bit of heaven, AJ.” She leaned over, shifting to close the space between them, and laid a hand on Applejack’s cheek. Then she smiled. “I wanna show off.” She leaned in closer, and her lips brushed Applejack’s in a soft kiss.

The farmer froze, a million thoughts racing through her mind, but none breaking her from the paralysis she found herself in. She wanted to push Dash away, she wanted to slap her, she wanted to threaten the girl—if this was a prank, it was too Goddamn far—but one thought, out of all of them, rose to the top of her mind.

She wanted to kiss her back.

AJ hesitated for a moment then slowly moved her head forward, resting her forehead against Dash’s. Then she turned her head, reaching up to press her palm against the back of Dash’s hand, and kissed Dash harder on the lips.

She broke away for a moment, and her thoughts became a hair more articulate. She swallowed, not sure what to say, not sure if this was even right. Even as Dash looked, she still was a woman. And a woman with a woman… it was unheard of.

“Evelyn,” she said, Dash’s true name seeming to hold a power at the moment over AJ, drawing a shiver to her breath. “What are we…?” she managed to ask, unsure she could even finish the thought at the moment.

Dash’s eyes seemed to plead with her. “Together. ‘S what we are. Together. I wanna be more together with you.”

AJ acted on instinct, offering a gentle smile to Dash. “Used ta think ‘bout kissin’ ya,” she admitted then added, “Evelyn,” under her breath. Her hand tightened around Dash’s own and she finally nodded, heat at her cheeks and her heart racing in fear? she thought, excitement? Dread? Anticipation? What the hell are you thinking?

She didn’t know, but with Dash, maybe she’d find out.

Bringing her arm forward, AJ all but scooped the smaller woman up, resting her palm on Dash’s back.

Dash beamed and kissed her high on the cheek, next to her ear, then whispered. “I always wanted to show off for you, AJ. Make you see I’m special. ‘Cause you’re so special, you’re the one that matters.” She kissed again, then went on, “I wanna make you feel special.”

Applejack drew in a breath. “Well yer doin’ a damn fine job of it,” she whispered back, running her hand over the thin fabric of Dash’s shirt. Her other arm was propping her up, especially important as the smaller woman pressed in harder. Both of Dash’s arms wrapped around her and wandered aimlessly over her back and sides as Dash’s kisses continued down Applejack’s neck.

As the kisses sent shivers through her body, AJ rubbed her cheek against the cropped rainbow hair and felt all the energy in Dash’s lithe body against hers. It seemed like a dream. This couldn’t be happening.

But she wanted it to be happening, especially as Dash’s hands fumbled at the hem of her shirt and slipped under, now running over her bare back, warm skin against skin. Want was consuming a large part of her mind, between the soft bites at her collarbone and the nimble hands exploring her body. The other, smaller part was trying to pull the bottom of Dash’s shirt out of the waistband of her pants with one hand.

Then the spell was shattered. She felt a hand grope her breast over her bra. Applejack gasped, heat flowed through her body, but on pure instinct she reached up to shove it away; years of training told her to fight off any fella who got grabby with those. But the hand she reached with was the one that had been supporting the weight of both women, and as she swatted at Dash she fell back hard against the ground, Dash falling forward on top of her.

Dash’s eyes widened, and she pushed against the ground, taking her weight off Applejack. “Shit. Sorry. I mean, you just wanna neck, that’s fine. No heavy petting. Got it.”

But that heat hadn’t left when Dash pulled her hand away. In fact, laying there under her, their bodies inches apart, it seemed to be even hotter, and that word was quickly consuming her mind again.

“Dash, no, I-I liked it. Liked yer hand there. It’s jus’ not somethin’ I’m used to, but… I want it. I want it all.”

Saying it out loud settled that in Applejack’s mind. “All” was really the only word for what she wanted. She wanted all of Dash, all over all of her. She wanted Dash on her farm and in her life, and she wanted her here, naked, and real soon for a preference.

An excited, hungry grin flashed across Dash’s face. “You’re really sure?”

“Reckon we should stop pussyfootin’ ‘round the matter. I’d hate ta stall the woman that got a Ford up ta seventy, after all.” Her heart thundered against her ribs and the smile trembled. Reaching forward, she took the top button of Dash’s shirt and unbuttoned it in one flash of her hand, exposing a bit of Dash’s skin and gave a small trail of a finger at Dash’s collarbone. “Jus’ a matter of, uh, figurin’ out how we go ‘bout it, huh?”

Dash let out a shaky breath. “I think that’s a good start.” She ran a hand across AJ’s body, over her shirt, resting it on the breast she had been denied a few moments ago.

“Like ‘em?” AJ asked, maybe a hair nervous as she waited for Dash’s appraisal.

The hand caressed her breast, giving a light squeeze, and Dash nodded. Then she paused and smirked. “Of course, I can’t really tell until I see ‘em.”

“I know the feelin’.” Applejack grinned and drew a breath, unbuttoning the next two buttons on Dash’s shirt. Pulling it apart with one hand, she peeked down the front. She wasn’t expecting much, Dash was a skinny little thing and didn’t even bother with a bra, but gravity was doing her some favors in this position and the small mounds looked so soft and feminine that Applejack couldn’t resist cupping one in her hand.

She looked up at Dash. For a moment, her big eyes and sharp face seemed delicate rather than boyish. It reminded Applejack of coming across a doe in the woods, and she felt like she should whisper, so as not to spook her.

“Yer beautiful, Evelyn.”

“Oh god…” Dash breathed. She stared at AJ for a few long seconds. AJ could feel Dash’s breath coming heavy, and she soon realized that she was nearly panting herself.

Something in the moment snapped. Dash’s full weight came down on her and her lips found AJ’s, kissing hungrily. Applejack matched her in passion, and she ran her hands over every part of Dash’s body she could reach. She felt her own body being wildly ransacked, clothing tugged aside and and Dash’s hot hands rubbing everywhere.

Somehow they parted for long enough to toss aside disheveled and useless shirts before pulling each other into a wrestling match over who’s mouth got to join their hands in exploring the bare flesh revealed in the moonlight. Either Applejack’s mouth was tasting and smelling Dash’s hot skin and forcing squeaky moans from the girl, or her own body was being covered in pressing kisses that found sensitive spots she never knew she had; Applejack couldn't find a way to lose this game.

But she was pretty sure she found a way to win when Dash’s hand made its way under her skirt, groping her thigh.

“Oh yeah...” Applejack gasped, running her hands through Dash’s hair as Dash kissed across her stomach.

The hand continued sliding up as Applejack squirmed, trying to hurry the progress. She couldn’t catch a deep breath, and she didn’t care. Her whole body was tense and sweaty from the effort of trying to have every sensation at once and somehow give Dash the same, and she didn’t care about that either. All she cared about was that hand moving up her leg.

Dash finally reached the spot between her legs with a firm grope, and Applejack just about lost her mind.

“Oh sweet Jesus! Oh God, Dash, more!” Applejack closed her eyes and threw her head back. Then the sensation disappeared, and Applejack’s eyes snapped open. Panting and aching for more, she saw that Dash had shifted away.

“Evelyn Hammett, get yer damn hand back there right this minute!”

Dash just giggled and reached under AJ’s skirt with both hands. “Gotta get your panties off.”

Realizing this was a real good reason for the pause, Applejack reached down to help her, unzipping her skirt and tugging that and her panties off. She lay there in the moonlight, all of her body’s thick, hard-earned muscle and thicker, God-given curves revealed for Dash.

Dash was crouched by her feet and looked her up and down. She let out a long whistle. “They know how to grow ‘em out on the farm.”

The swell of pride didn’t come close to matching the wonderful ache Applejack was feeling. “Would ya cut the sweet talk and get back to it?”

“Working on it!” Her hands moved to her fly. She quickly undid it and dropped her pants and underwear. Then she looked down. “Uh— shit.” She shuffled back a bit with her pants around her ankles and leaned over to untie her shoes.

Applejack leaned back and let out a hard belly laugh at the sight, her frustration forgotten for the moment. “Oh Dash. Sometimes I wonder about ya.”

“I was distracted!” Dash protested as she pulled off her second shoe and stepped out of her pants, her body finally totally free. Applejack feasted her eyes on the lithe, toned body as Dash got to her knees and crawled over her.

Dash ran an appreciative hand up AJ’s side from hip to breast. “With all this in front of her, how’s a girl supposed to think of shoes?” She relaxed against her and gave her a long, lingering kiss that reminded AJ there was a fire burning hot inside of her

“Trust me, it ain’t shoes I want ya thinkin’ about jus now,” Applejack said as the kiss parted. Then a shadow of doubt crossed her face. “Ya do know how to… ya know, with a girl?”

Dash smiled. “Of course! I mean…” For a moment she seemed to be trying to find the right words, but eventually the smile fell from her face as she looked down at the farmer. She swallowed. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Applejack’s face fell. “I thought with all that big city experience, ya’d know… I never even thought this far before tonight.”

“I know I want this. And I know we’ll figure it out. We know what makes us feel good… so we just do that to each other…” She squirmed against AJ, her hips pressing against her. “A lot. I wanna do a lot of that with you.”

Applejack nodded with a nervous grin. It was really the only choice, because with their naked bodies pressed together there was no way in hell they could stop now.

The rest of the evening was spent in a tangle of sticky, sweaty limbs, both trying everything they could think of to push each other over the top. Whether it was determination or luck or the wild electricity between them, they never had much trouble achieving blissful outbursts again and again, like fireworks at a country fair. Time seemed to move quickly, blurring everything together, though Applejack was pretty sure she’d remember a few things that stuck out, or in, for a long time after. She’d remember them for next time, because Applejack knew this had always been missing from her life, and she knew she couldn’t live without it; both the physical feelings and the moaning, shuddering woman in her arms.

They had their misfires, and found out that even a pair of strong, active girls had limits to flexibility and endurance. But cries of pain turned quickly into giggles and then moans of pleasure as they gamely readjusted and switched tracks. And through it all they had the banquet of one another’s bodies to savor; every inch and every second were mouthwateringly delicious. There wasn’t a moment for Applejack to consider that what she was doing, or who she was doing it with, might be wrong. Right and wrong seemed tiny and far away compared to the encompassing reality of what she felt there with Dash.

And late at night, or early in the morning, the heat of the moment had melted away. Applejack lay sated and exhausted, and she cradled the most beautiful woman, the most beautiful person she’d ever seen as the girl slept. Right and wrong crept back into her world, and wrong slunk back into some dirty, forgotten corner of her mind while right shone brightly from everything about this. Because this was right, the way her farm and family were right. Dash was a part of her, and she could never let her go.

Chapter 4

Applejack woke up late, amid the chirping of bluejays already in the middle of their day. She groaned, putting a hand to her forehead. A hangover roared to life within her, pounding away at her with reckless abandon. Wincing, she rose to a sit, the drink in her sloshing her stomach, upsetting it. Her thoughts turned from her aches and pains and into last night. She froze, looking over.

Dash was gone, absent from the makeshift bed crafted from their clothes, absent from where she lay last night when they… when they…

Rising, AJ looked for the woman, clothes be damned. She crained her tall body, looking through the dense vegetation for the woman. Spotting a figure by a small stream a bit deeper into the field she moved towards it, her calloused feet not paying the slightest mind to the twigs and burrs between her and her goal.

She came to the stream. Dash sat at the water, looking distantly towards the rise of a hill and a brick grain silo that rose over it.

“Good mornin’,” AJ offered.

“What’s good about it?” Dash asked. She looked over to AJ, then quickly snapped her head back around when she realized the farmer was au natural.

AJ raised a brow.

“Glad yer a ray of sunshine today, sug,” she addressed, moving to the edge of the creek and kneeling, cupping her hands together and drawing a handful of water which she swallowed, giving a sigh of contentment.

After a beat, she moved into the water beside Dash, who looked almost panicked at the action.

“What are you doing?” Dash asked, stepping back.

“Hell it look like?” the farmer replied. She pointed at her wavy hair. “Cleanin’ this rats nest. Probably gonna put it in a ponytail after this, son of a gun’s hard ta take care of.”

“I’m still here,” Dash countered, giving a splash of the water to empathize.

“So? Plenty-a water fer both of us.”

Dash turned away from her. “Ever hear of privacy?”

Applejack gave a laugh. “I think we’re a bit past that part, sug.”

“That’s the problem, dope!” Dash snapped over her shoulder.

The farmer narrowed her brow. “Drop the hissy fit, it don’t fit ya, Evelyn.”

“Don’t call me that,” Dash warned.

AJ flinched, feeling more hurt than furious at the woman. The fuzzy magic of last night was fading, leaving her with only a bitter ache in her head and, the way Dash was acting, a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Why?” she finally asked.

“Because I’m not a soft sap, no matter how much you want me to be. No matter how drunk you get me,” she lectured, sternly pointing a finger.

If she had felt stabbed in the back before from Dash’s tantrum, now it felt like a knife had just been twisted in her. Applejack, a small part of her at least, wanted to reach out and snap that accusing finger—she could, it’d be easier than crushing an apple in her palm, a trick she had done a few times in her life—Dash’s digit would be child’s play. But she made no move for it, stifling her anger and instead putting her hands at her sides, balling them into tight fists the size of canned hams and tried to keep her cool.

“I didn’t get ya drunk,” AJ growled out. “We split the bottle, you coulda stopped anytime. But ya didn’t. Ya kissed me. Ya kissed me first. Not ta mention what else ya did first. An’ now yer blamin’ me fer it? Fuck you.”

“No,” Dash answered, shoving the farmer hard enough that AJ stumbled back a step. “Fuck you. We were drunk and you spoke enough sugar that I let my guard down. I got soft.”

“Why do ya have ta keep yer guard up around me? Do ya really think I’d hurt ya on purpose?”

Dash looked to her, then looked away, rubbing at her lips. “You might not on purpose, but you sure as hell could break me on accident.”

“I don’t…” AJ mumbled out, not really following.

“It was all a damn mistake. All of last night. I really screwed the pooch.”

“Don’t,” Applejack remarked, angry and sad and uncomprehending all at once. “Yer lyin’,” she finally settled on.

“Like hell I am!” Dash barked out. “I ruined a lot of shit!”

“Ruined?” AJ repeated. “Says who? Dash, yer bein’ a genius again. Last night was somethin’ else.”

“Because you got to fool around with a hot piece of ass?” the shorter woman barked out.

AJ slammed a foot down in the water. “Horseshit! I don’t chase tail, especially dame tail! How can ya not see that after last night? How come yer still spittin’ fire? Did nothin’ I say get through that skull or mean anythin’?”

“Do you even remember what you said?” Dash coolly asked, a genuine question. One she waited for a response to as she crossed her arms and stared.

“That you should be with me,” AJ countered. She softened up a hair and held her hand out. “I mighta meant it a bit different then, but I still mean it now. Come on, Evelyn.”

The woman’s frown twitched and she hesitated. Before either could do anything, though, the loud bellow of bloodhound barking drew their attention away. Just climbing the apex of the hill by the silo was an old man, a rifle in his arms and a dog seeming to stare accusingly towards the two as they stood thigh-deep in water.

“Hey!” the old man called out. “The hell are you two doing naked on my land?! This ain’t the place for a boy and a lady to be neckin’!”

Applejack looked over to Dash, the flat woman held a glare that suggested that AJ not even attempt to make a joke.

“Any ideas?” AJ instead offered to the woman.

“Follow my lead,” Dash encouraged. She stepped out of the creek as AJ did the same, then took a breath, focusing. In a flash she turned around, taking off at a dead sprint towards the car.

“That’s yer lead?!” AJ called after her, putting a hand on the top of her head in exasperation. She looked behind her at the man stumbling down the hill after them and the dog that was quickly approaching her heels. She took off after the woman, pumping her arms violently with every step in a vain attempt to catch up. As Dash ran to the car, AJ stopped, scooping up their clothes in her arms in a tight bear hug and choosing to ignore the socks that dropped to the ground below her.

Dash lept over the door handle and sat at the wheel, only to freeze.

“Keys!” she called out. AJ fished into Dash’s pants pockets, swearing as she lost her bra behind her.

“The hell are they?!” she exclaimed when her search was fruitless.

“Breastpocket!” she called back, running a hand through her hair and giving a roll of her wrists, encouraging AJ to pick up the damn pace.

She found them and chucked them towards Dash; the woman caught it in one hand and started up the car just as AJ made it to its side. After throwing their clothes to the floorboard, AJ hopped in too, slapping at the dashboard.

“Come on, come on!” AJ called out. Dash shifted backwards and gunned it.

The tires underneath them spun out in the soft earth, sending clumps of grass spewing out.

“We’re stuck!” Dash exclaimed in a panic. “We gotta get her pushed out!”

AJ winced, looking from Dash to the elderberry bush the Raceabout was parked within.

“Are ya kiddin’?”

“Does this look like Vaudeville?” Dash motioned to the woods.

“Sure don’t see nobody in blackface,” AJ repled with a scowl. She held her hand out to Dash. “Rock Paper Scissors. Loser has ta go inta the bush. Damn. We’re in a tight spot,” she muttered. “Quick-like, that ol’ boy can’t be too far behind.”

“This is--” Dash sighed. “Okay, fine.” She held out a hand and waited for AJ to do the same. “One, two, three, shoot!”

AJ frowned. Her paper beat by Dash’s scissors.

“Ya damn cheat,” the farmer swore. “Son of a bitch. Ok,” she muttered, hopping out.

She rounded the car, stepping in front of it. A branch from the bush seemed to seek her out, ramming into her side hard enough to make her swear again as she positioned herself, bracing against the car.

“Gun it!” she called, once more letting out an almost girlish whine of pain as a thorn found purchase in her asscheek, drawing blood. “Any damn time now!”

The car revved, once more drawing dirt into the air. Only this time, there came a hair of traction, the car moving a blessed few inches backward. AJ stepped forward, drawing the irie of the bush once again, it drawing blood on her thigh, her hip. An exposed root gave a small puncture to her foot but she still moved on, expletives coming to her fast and quick enough that the devil himself would of drawn a blush.

Finally, the car found itself and Dash guided it back on the road, just as AJ fell forward, landing face-first into the dirt. She rose, glowering, and quickly ran to the car, brushing the dirt off her body and leaping in.

As soon as AJ was in the car, Dash slammed on the gas. The car jolted forward. She gunned it for a minute or two before slowing to a more sane speed.

Dash glanced over at AJ, then sputtered into a fit of giggles.

“Har har, laugh it up,” AJ grumbled. “I don’t know how this can get any worse.”

As if on cue, as the reached the apex of a hill, another car passed by them and a young man drove past, his jaw unhinged as he took in the sight of the two. He swerved, nearly going off the road as he did and AJ put a muddy hand to her forehead in exasperation.

“I take it back,” Dash said with a grin. “You’d be a real hit in Vaudeville.”

She looked over to Dash and sighed. “Guess I need ta learn how ta sing Mammy an’ we’ll be in business.” Another pause and something sparked in her mind.

“Crap!” she exclaimed, putting her hand to her cheek in alarm, “the damn upholstery on the chairs! It’s gonna get stained ta shit! We need some water!” She then looked over to Dash and herself. “An’ are ya wantin’ us to ride all-a God’s green earth lookin’ like the day we were born, sug? We could probably stand fer a pit stop, no matter how good the air’s feelin’.”

Dash looked over at AJ, smiling like she was going to make another joke, but her eyes lingered on AJ’s body and the smile fell away. “I’ll pull over in those trees up there and we can get dressed, then I’ll catch the next filling station we come to to clean up.”

“Thanks, girl. Yer the best,” AJ automatically replied. Tapping at the car door, she decided to approach the elephant they had almost cornered in the creek while she could. “Dash. I mean what I said earlier. Ya know that.”

“I know you think you do. But… I can’t. I shouldn’t ’ve last night, and I can’t today. Maybe someday, when my ship comes in…” Dash sighed as she pulled the car off the road into a small grove of trees and bushes. She grabbed her pants off out of the footwell and opened her door.

“Yer always talkin’ ‘bout ships. Thought you were a plane girl,” AJ remarked, trying to smile for the woman. She grabbed her skirt and shirt and hopped out too.

Dash hopped into her clothes, giving AJ a smile over her shoulder. “Ship, plane, car… I’ll take it, as long as it’s mine.”

“Well, glad ya ain’t too picky,” AJ replied. “Grab what ya can grab, after all.” She brushed herself off as well as she could and slipped into her skirt. “Though ya got somethin’ that’s yers that ain’t a tin can, jus’ so ya know. If ya want it, anyway.” She put on her shirt, giving a roll of her shoulders as she tried to get comfortable from the lack of a bra.

Dash sat back behind the wheel and pulled her shirt on, buttoning it up. “I told you, when my ship comes in. ‘Til then it’s not a fair deal.”

“How ain’t it a fair deal?” AJ questioned, raising a brow. She reached down and fished out a rock from her shoe, then got back in the car.

“Look at me, AJ.” Dash frowned and gestured, presenting herself. “This is all I’ve got. No, that’s not true, I’ve got less than this, ‘cause without that crate of your hooch back there I’m also out a set of kneecaps. You’re set, hell, you’re set enough that you can get me set up… I don’t wanna feel like someone is setting me up, and I especially don’t want to feel like that with you.”

“Yer so dumb,” AJ said, exasperated. “I ain’t doin’ this ta help ya fer charity. This right here? An’ investment. Yer a lil’ sapling right now. Give ya some water? A lil’ time in the sun?” She gave a small smile to herself, her brown skin too dark to show a blush, but heat coming to her face regardless, “maybe a lil’ love? That thing’ll grow inta a mighty fine tree. You’ll get that investment back an’ then some. If ya jus’ make sure ta take care-a the sapling.”

“Pretty sure you don’t screw your trees,” Dash muttered.

AJ paused, looking over to Dash. “Ya thinkn’ we did that last night?” she asked, genuinely curious. “I mean, the way two gals are supposed to…?”

Dash raised an eyebrow. “Uh… yeah? I mean, one of ‘em must have been...” She shook her head. “And that’s not even the point. The problem is what we did last night, not what we call it.”

“What would ya call it?” AJ encouraged, giving a bit of a chiding smile. “Makin’ whoopee? That’s what Alice called it once.”

Dash looked down at the steering wheel. A blush came to her cheeks and she said through gritted teeth, “I’d call it making love, okay? And I’m not okay with it, and I’m not okay with you calling me Evelyn… and I wanna be okay with that someday, when I’m standing on my own, but I can’t be right now. So can we just forget it?”

“Dash…” AJ looked down at the floorboard. “I’d call it makin’ love too. Is there really a problem with callin’ it like we see it? Why ain’t it ok sometimes needin’ one-another? Don’t make ya any less of a woman. Sometimes I like bein’ a lil’ soft too, ya know? Around you, anyway. Ya really gonna let yer pride run ya ragged? That ain’t no way ta live.”

Dash cringed and laid a hand over her eyes. “I’ve got a lotta damn pride, okay? It’s hard… I just don’t wanna be someone’s doll. I wanna be a girl sometimes, with you, but I don’t want you-- no, I don’t want me thinking that’s all I am. And it’s so damn hard when I’ve got nothing else... except pride.”

“Ya ain’t no doll. I ain’t damn dizzy with no dame.” She paused, then gave a shake of her head. “Ya know what I mean. I don’t want no girly-girl, sug. I want you. I want Dash. An’ sometimes, when it’s jus’ us… I want Evelyn. Ya got a lot goin’ fer ya fer nothin’, sug. Trust me.” She gave a tap to her temple. “After all, I’m the brains between us, I gotta know what’s what.”

“That’s what I want, too,” Dash said softly. She frowned at nothing in particular for a long time. Finally she let out a long breath. “Just… only when we’re alone, okay?”

“Only if we got the same deal for Jacquline,” the farmer replied. She offered her hand out to Dash. “Fair enough… Evelyn?”

Dash smiled and shook. “Deal, Jacqueline.” A smirk crept over her face. “Besides, I think ‘dollface’ fits you better.”

“Ya know…” she put her finger to her chin in exaggerated consideration, “comin’ from ya? Maybe I like the ring too.”

They pulled up to a station and filled up. AJ, without any sort of provocation, rose from the car and headed for the station. A small whistle stopped the farmer and she turned, meeting Dash’s smirking face.

“Park that pretty little caboose back down, dollface. Drinks are on me this time,” she said, presenting a pair of quarters out from her pocket.

AJ looked to Dash, raising a brow.

“Did ya take those from me last night?” AJ asked plainly.

“Would pleading the fifth clear me, judge?”

AJ could help the small snort at the woman and she moved back, sitting down and bridging her hands behind her head.

“Alright, then. Orange soda this time. Appreciate yer generosity,” she dryly remarked.

Dash laughed, moving past her and giving a small pull at the rim of AJ’s stetson. “Face it, you kind of like getting played by this dame.”

“Jus’ get back with ‘em ‘fore I kick yer ass,” the farmer remarked, swatting Dash’s hand as she went into the station with a laugh. As she leaned back in the seat of the car, she shut her eyes, appreciating the breeze.

She had almost nodded off when there came the crunch of boots on gravel beside her.

“‘Bout time, sug. Had ta visit the john or somethin’?” she asked, stretching and opening her eyes.

What greeted her wasn’t her companion; rather, it was a young cop about her age with a no-nonsense haircut and a small notepad already open as he looked over her and the tin can.

“Good morning, Miss,” he said, tipping his hat. “Officer LaGarde.”

AJ froze. She finally managed a swallow and a weak, sickly smile.

“A-afternoon, officer. What can I do fer ya?”

He looked her up and down. “Well, can I get your name, Miss?”

“My name,” she repeated, looking to him. Her lips pursed and she looked towards her palms. “It’s, uh…” The farmer tried to come up with something quick, shoot from the hip, but instead her thoughts took her to her family, and she quickly blurted out her mother’s name. “Anna. Anna at yer service.”

“Surname?” He looked down at his notepad.

Applejack paused again. Giving out Pomme would be a stupid mistake, just as giving out some indian tribe name she might not even pronounce right would fuck her over too, so she offered another shaky smile, leaving this creation to her imagination.

“Uh, Gold… berg...en...stien?” she offered.

“Is this your car, Miss Goldbergenstein?” the officer said, not raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, yeah. Uh… she’s sure somethin’, ain’t she?” AJ questioned, giving a gesture at it.

He smiled. “Yeah, I was reading about this one in a magazine. Don’t see many of them around here. You haven’t loaned it out to anyone recently, have you?”

“Nope, nope. Nobody that I know of,” AJ quickly shook her head. “T-too much bread ta let somebody get their mitts on, y-ya know?”

“If it was mine, I wouldn’t let it out of my sight.” He nodded. “Just, we got this report on the wire yesterday about one of these giving an officer a few towns over the run around. You don’t know a Miss Hammett, do you?”

“Hammett. Not on my life. Don’t know a Miss Pomme either,” AJ offered. “Total stranger.”

“Miss… Pomme?” Officer LaGarde looked confused. “Who’s she?”

“Oh, ya don’t know Miss Pomme?” Applejack asked, just as confused as he was. Dash either didn’t mention yer name, or she gave a fake one yesterday ta that one cop, genius, she thought, feeling stupider than she had in a long, long time. “Jus’...” she trailed off. “Jus’ a kinda rough gal from my neck-a the woods, that’s all. Never met her, but heard of her, thought you mighta too.”

He scratched his head. “Can’t say as I have.”

“Pomme?” Dash spoke up, walking up to them with two orange sodas in her hand. “Hey, I wonder if she’s the one that broke into your garage the other day?” she asked AJ, eyes wide and innocent.

“And you are?” the officer asked, looking Dash over.

“Evelyn Belle,” Dash offered her hand, smiling, and Officer LaGarde shook it. “Anyway, she found her garage unlocked this morning.”

“That’s right!” AJ agreed, the girl’s appearance nothing short of divine intervention to her. Her attitude came far more naturally to her and she grinned at the officer. “We were worried someone mighta fiddled with the car here, so we were givin’ it a test run. Evelyn’s the best damn mechanic in all-a Missouri. If this flivver has any kinks, then I can count on her ta spot ‘em.”

The officer raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

Dash grinned and opened her mouth. Then she shut it again. “Well, I don’t know about that, sir. But I do know my way around an automobile, and I can help out my friends from time to time.”

“Time ta time? Hell, she jus’ ‘bout lives under my hood. Reckon she’s got a sleepin’ bag stowed away somewhere there. Maybe under the uh… alt… the, uh…?”

“Alternator,” Dash easily suggested. “And this beauty? Needing an alternator fixed? Come on, now. Thing’s bulging compared to what you see on the road most days. I handle the tin-cans the Joe drives mostly.” She gave a coy wink to the officer “The kitten’s a bit spooked when it comes to these things. Doesn’t know that you just gotta treat ‘em like you would any dame: listen to when they complain, and get it fixed pronto.”

“That’s nice,” he nodded. “Did you notice anything about the vehicle here when you looked it over this morning?”

“Not really…” Dash considered. “There was some mud splashed on it, like someone had been off the roads, but I just thought maybe it got stuck in a ditch last time she had it out.”

“That happens from time to time, out where we are,” Applejack explained. “Not all the roads ‘ve been paved yet. I’m surprised she even noticed that, it happens so much.”

The officer frowned at both AJ and Dash. “Well, it seems Miss Pomme and a Miss Hammett might have borrowed your automobile for a little joy ride. You say that Miss Pomme is trouble?”

The girls nodded solemnly in unison.

“I’d talk to your local police when you get home and have them contact Officer Mannard over in Crocker. There should be enough information to get them in some real hot water over this.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, officer. Maybe I’ll try ta talk to her folks ‘fore I press charges, tho’. Hear they’re the younger types, an’ ya know how sometimes kids get,” AJ replied, giving a nod.

“Some girls just need a tight rein to keep ‘em in line, sir,” Dash agreed.

AJ snorted at the remark, then let out a cough, trying to hide it.

Officer LaGarde smiled. “That’s up to you, Miss Goldbergenstein. Just make sure they stay out of your garage, this is a fine machine you’ve got here and I’d hate to see it get hurt.” He tipped his hat. “Well, I won’t keep you ladies. Have a nice day!”

As he turned to walk away, Dash smacked her hand over her mouth. Soon as he was out of earshot she let loose with her giggles. “Goldbergenstein? Really?”

“Like you could come up with anythin’ better!” AJ snapped back, throwing her hands to her side and holding back her own laughter. “Figured a Jew might have enough bank fer a ride like this. Was the only thing that came ta mind!”

Dash calmed down to an occasional snicker. “You’ve never even met a Jew. And I bet that copper hasn’t either, if he bought that name.”

“Nah, I ain’t,” she admitted, brushing her nose. “Ain’t like they come ‘round these parts, how was I supposed ta know that name was bulk?” After a beat, she looked over to Dash and let a small laugh of her own out. “Ya saved my bacon there. Or, whatever’s kosher, ya saved that. Good actin’, would fit a Belle jus’ like a glove.”

“I’ll thank Rare for letting me borrow her name next time I see her.” Dash grinned. “Besides, I was the genius that gave her name to the coppers last time. You saved both of our bacon before I even stepped in.”

“Hit ‘em with a one-two punch, sug. We got a good lil’ system goin’, when yer bein’ sweet, at least.”

“And when you lay off the real one-two punches.” Dash laughed. “Now let’s scram before we need to put on anymore skits like that.”

AJ offered a bark of a laugh herself, gesturing ahead with a carefree smile. “Alright, alright. Let’s hit the road, Marion Davies.”

Dash waked around to the passenger door and held it open. “Your car’s ready, Miss Goldbergenstein.”

“Ain’t livin’ that down fer a while, am I, Miss Belle?” Applejack questioned, giving a small curtsy and moving to the seat.

Dash walked around to the driver’s side and slid behind the wheel. “I’m gonna make sure it goes on your tombstone, dollface.”

“I’ll outlive ya, even if it kills me,” AJ replied, pulling the cap off her soda and taking a long, deep drink as the car revved to life.

Chapter 5

They puttered into the city in the early evening. AJ had never liked ‘em. Smaller towns held a certain warmth to them. A small promise that the people in them matched her stride for stride: hard working, diligent, upfront with their beliefs. Just good, honest, God-fearing types.

She didn’t have that belief in the city. No matter how much the streets were cleaned up and polished, there always felt like there was a certain… grime underneath. A shadow that sucked the life out of people amidst the parties and drinking, that crushed them, bit by bit as their dreams were buried underneath the mundane factory jobs.

She admitted that maybe she made it a bit over-dramatized, a habit she had maybe picked up a hair from Rarity when the three of them ran around, but the principle was the same. A big city like this was a nice place to visit, but she’d be damned if she’d ever want to live here.

“We close?” AJ asked.

“Well, we’re in the city, aren’t we?” Dash replied with a rise of her shoulder. Not even needing to look over to the woman to know AJ wasn’t amused, Dash nodded. “Yeah. Just a couple of blocks now.”

A few minutes later, they came to a small ice cream shop. A real mom and pop setup. Fairly small, with white wooden walls and a single glass door. A hand-written sign out front said simply, ‘Cakes.’ Below that, another sign proclaimed that ‘Yes, we’re open!” Dash pointed to it.

“Bingo,” she said.

The farmer looked to the simple building, then looked around it, trying to make sure she was staring at the right spot.

“That?” AJ asked.

“That,” Dash agreed. Though instead of pulling into the packed parking lot, she moved one building down, to a rather innocent looking apartment complex. Killing the engine, she looked over to AJ and rubbed the back of her neck.

“Do me a favor. I need you to make sure Pinkie’s not all wet.”

“You said she was solid, Dash,” AJ replied.

“Like a rock,” Dash quickly answered, giving a flap of her hands. “I just want to make sure the dame’s not opening the doors for just anybody.” She gave a small tilt of her head. “Got a little code I told her to remember to make sure people are on the up and up. Go into that apartment, go down into the basement. You’ll see a buzzer, push it. When you get a chance, tell her ‘See you next Wednesday.”

“When I get a chance?” AJ repeated.

“You’ll understand exactly what I mean when you see her. She’s got a bit of a motormouth.”

AJ raised a brow, but said nothing to that, getting out of the Raceabout and heading into the apartments.

There was nobody at the front counter, so the farmer just pressed on, heading through a door marked ‘basement.’ Tromping down the stairs, AJ came to the basement proper and walked past dozens of knick-knacks, decorations and kitsch. At the far end of the basement was a set of wide and thick double-doors. To the side of them was a small thumb-sized button, which she pressed. Behind the double-doors, AJ heard a buzz and she reached forward, pulling at one of the handles, only to find it locked.

There came a set of footsteps from behind the door after a beat and at her neck level a small slit in the door opened. A pair of bright turquoise eyes all but hidden behind a sea of pink curled hair looked out at her.

“Well, hi! You’re a new face. A new body, too, but that’s attached to the face. You don’t look like you’re from around here, but of course I know that because I’d know you if you were from around here and then you wouldn’t be new! But if you’re not from around here, it makes me wonder why you’re here, ‘cause this isn’t the kind of basement that a lot of people just wander into. I mean, are there basements a lot of people just wander into? I’ve never wandered into a basement, but maybe I’m just weird. People tell me that from time to time. What do you think?”

“Uh…” AJ trailed off, her jaw opening and closing as she tried to find what words she should say. “Yes?” she finally struggled out. “Or, uh, no, I reckon. I dunno. Are you Pinkie?”

“Yupperoni!” Pinkie answered, apparently unphased by Applejack’s uncertainty. “Wow, you can’t even see me and you guessed it! Are you one of those psychics? Ooh! Maybe that’s why you’re in a basement. Are you having a seance? Is this building haunted? I’ve never seen a ghost here, but what if there are ghosts I can’t see? I might be bumping into them all the time, and not even saying excuse me! You should let me know, I hate to be rude.”

“I’m sure there ain’t no ghosts here,” AJ answered. Then, under her breath came a mumbled, “I hope. Damn that’d be creepy.” Getting back on track, she rubbed at the back of her neck. “Uh, see ya next Wednesday?” she offered. “Dash sent me, if that helps too.”

“I still don’t understand why it’s supposed to be next Wednesday. That’s a long time not to see someone you like, and a short time to have to see someone you don’t like. I told Dashie it should be tomorrow, because then people will come back more often, and I don’t get many people here I don’t like. She just told me not to take it so literally.”

“Well, I mean, ain’t a lot of people go out ta see somebody on a Wednesday. Maybe she jus’ wanted ta make sure you’d have some time in the schedule?” AJ offered with a small raise of her hand.

“That’s true, we’re not that busy on a Wednesday. Saturday this place is jumping, and we get some crowds on Friday too. The sad sacks all come on Sunday and Monday, and I do my best to cheer them up. The rest of the nights are fun, though, because when there aren’t as many people around you have time to sit and chat, and I do like a nice long chat, don’t you?”

“Sometimes,” the farmer admitted. “But I usually like ‘em on a porch outside. An’ speakin’ of, I like seein’ more than a few inches of whoever I’m talkin’ with. Care ta open that door now?”

“Oh! Sure!” The slit shut and there came the turning of a lock. The door swung open, revealing a stocky woman with a mass of pink curls framing her face and spilling down her back. Around her head was a blue headband with a peacock feather stuck in it, and she wore a shiny pink and blue striped dress.

“Well, ain’t you jus’ a cute lil’ thing,” AJ chuckled, offering her hand to the girl, who enthusiastically took it and shook it vigorously with both her palms, stumbling AJ. The farmer was a bit surprised at the girl’s strength, and at the hard callouses covering both of Pinkie’s palms. Girl had done some hard labor at one point in her life, the small paunch at her stomach or not.

“I dunno, am I?” Pinkie grinned. “I know I’m a little thing, I mean compared to people. Not really compared to cats or dogs or rabbits, and those are probably a lot cuter. So maybe I’m not a cute little thing?”

“Well, yer a cute lil’ thing ta me. That fair enough?” AJ replied, moving her hand to her neck and moving it forward, easily placing it over Pinkie’s head. “Maybe not as lil’ as Dash, but who is?”

Pinkie’s eyes lit up. “Now, Dashie, she’s a cute little thing! But you can’t tell her that. I told her that once and she said she’s slug me if I weren’t a girl. And I asked her if she’d ever slug herself if she weren’t a girl and she just sighed and said ‘all the damn time.’ But she was in a bad mood that day, some trouble with money, and I told her she needed to get out of the city, and she said she could go stay with Applejack. So I sent her--” Pinkie’s eyes went wide. “Wait a minute, you know Dashie? You must be Applejack!”

“In the flesh,” AJ agreed with a chuckle. Her expression darkened after a moment’s pause. “Has there been anyone lookin’ fer her ‘round these parts? She’s got it bad with bread, sug. Real bad.”

Pinkie frowned. “No one comes looking for anyone around here. Not those fellas, and not if they wanna come back here at least. I heard they’ve been bothering Rarity Belle, but she won’t tell them anything. So as far as they know, Dashie just flew away.” She illustrated with a hand flapping up to the sky.

“One thing I’ll give her: Belles know how ta keep their lips sealed,” AJ agreed with a nod. “Jus’ hope they don’t try ta put the screws on her.” Shaking her head to try and dispel those thoughts, she instead cocked a thumb behind her, towards the stairs. “We got yer hooch, by the way. Where ya want us ta move it? Through here?”

“You got it, sister!” She put a hand to the side of her mouth and whispered loudly, “Just do your best to look like you’re moving something.”

“We’ll get that rounded up in a jiffy.”

AJ set the crate down on the well-polished counter, hearing the jars inside clank and rattle against one-another as she did it. She leaned, popping her back, and took stock of the speakeasy.

Considering how hidden the place was, it had itself some class, could stand up to even the prettiest bar that operated out in the open. Comfortable, cushioned bar stools. Solid and beautiful oiled wooden chairs, and behind where a barkeep stood, a flawless mirror with intricate scrollwork across the edges. Her complaints about Dash not helping move the heavy crate died before she could voice them and she whistled in appreciation at the joint as Pinkie stepped behind AJ and Dash and shut the door leading down the long underground hallway to the apartment’s basement.

“Hell of a nice dig,” AJ remarked, stealing a glance at Pinkie. “You run it yerself?”

“Sure do, cockatoo!” Pinkie said, pulling the heavy crate down behind the counter.

“Pinkie’s the best bartender in the city.” Dash leaned against the bar. “She knows just about every cat who comes in, and she can mix up drinks that are too damn good to be healthy.”

“That a fact?” AJ questioned, accepting the challenge. She fished out two quarters from her pocket and slapped them down on the counter. “Shot fer me an’ the dame. Add a lil’ somethin’ else ta it. Surprise me.”

Pinkie grinned and looked Applejack up and down. Then she put a hand to her chin, and stuck her tongue out the corner of her mouth, tapping one foot. After a minute, she got an enormous smile on her face and turned to the wall of bottles behind the bar.

Most of them were unlabeled, but she looked through them as if searching for something specific. She apparently found it, because she pulled down two bottles and sloshed them each in a shot glass. The movements seemed sloppy, but both glasses came out exactly even. Then she reached under the counter and pulled out a red decanter, pouring a carefully measured amount of liquid into each glass.

She slid one to Applejack, and one to Dash. “Bottoms up!”

AJ held out her glass to Dash in a toast, the dim light of the bar making the brown beverage within swirl and dance. “Ta yer health?” AJ offered.

“To maybe my damn legs not getting broken,” Dash replied.

They clinked their glasses together and swallowed. AJ froze, briefly speechless.

The burn was beautiful in the drink. A strong, cinnamon-inspired thing that was pleasing to taste and wouldn’t be foreign on top of ice cream. Though the finish is what made her stunned to silence.

Apple pie. The thing tasted exactly like apple pie, the same sort of drink her granny made before she went to be with God. AJ stared at Pinkie, feeling, if she was honest with herself, something she tried to be, painfully nostalgic. All from one drink.

“You know yer job,” AJ finally managed to say, looking down at her empty shot glass. “If I had the time or money, I’d probably wanna get three sheets to the wind off-a this stuff right now.”

“Told you. I don’t vouch for people unless they know their stuff,” Dash replied.

Pinkie gave a proud giggle, the open-mouthed grin she wore making her look like a mischievous sprite. She gave a small shake of her hands in front of her barrel chest.

“Well, when you have the time and money, you should come back!” Pinkie exclaimed. “I’ll even give you the friends discount!”

“Don’t be fooled. She gives that to everyone,” Dash said.

“‘Cause everyone’s my friend, silly!” Pinkie replied, raising a thumb up from her fist at the woman. She bounced along, light on her feet despite her frame, and went to a cash register at the counter, pulling out a wad of singles.

“Let’s see…” she muttered chipperly to herself, flicking the money over a thumb and counting it. “The amount of gallons, plus a little bit for gas…”

“An’ maybe a bit fer hazard pay,” AJ haggled, pointing a finger lazily towards Pinkie.

“Oh!” Pinkie exclaimed, putting a hand to her heart. “Of course! It’s dangerous doing things around Dashie after all!” The woman in question offered a ‘hey’ in protest, but Pinkie flicked two more dollars into the mix before handing the wad to AJ.

The farmer took to counting it. When she was done, she let out a low whistle. Five-hundred and twenty-two dollars. Pinkie had not only been reasonable, she had been generous on throwing extra cash their way.

I’m in the wrong line of business, AJ thought with a snort.

Putting it into her pocket, AJ nodded to Pinkie. “Pleasure doin’ business.”

“Same!” Pinkie chirped back. “If you ever want to make another run, just say so! Pinkie Diane Pie’s doors are always open for the best stuff for my best customers!”

The barroom was different from Pinkie’s. This one wasn’t quite as welcoming. There always was just a hair of tension to it, like a fight could break out in the crowd the instant there was a disturbance. Dash lit a cigarette, taking in the crowd as she rested in one of the corner booths. Her eyes were hardened, they needed to be here. They needed to be challenging, warning. Letting people know she was a predator at rest, not prey.

She had left Applejack out in the car. The farmer, as was the norm of her it seemed, protested, wanting to go inside and maybe catch the tail end of Rarity’s act, but had backed down on Dash mentioning that having someone with her might be a sign of weakness to her debtors.

The diva herself appeared on stage not a moment later, giving a wave to the crowd gathered and flashing a million-dollar smile. The tension in the crowd, while not fully dead, died considerably as they took in the woman, a beacon of bright times even on the worst day of your life, and a voice like an angel mixed in with the purr of a kitten.

“Why, good evening to all the lovely ladies and gentlemen out there! I’m pleased to be performing for you all,” Rarity said in a cultured, refined infliction that she sure didn’t gain from her years with AJ and Dash. Her eyes caught sight of Dash and her smile seemed even more earnest at the sight. “I’m sure you’re all familiar with my next score, so I’ll begin posthaste.”

A piano man beside her looked over, she nodded at him and began a slow, gentle rendition of ‘My Melancholy Baby,’ and Rarity’s low alto purr of it, even if Dash was more of a cat that dug swing, seemed to catch her heart in her throat. Judging by the hush that fell over the rest of the audience, they felt the same way.

Dash caught sight of a familiar face stepping through the awed crowd and she felt her mouth tighten into a thin line and reach for the wallet in her pocket.

A lean woman approached wearing a crisp brown jacket and sat next to Dash at the booth. The woman offered a smile that was curt and, maybe a hair threatening. And she leaned her chin onto her worn and calloused knuckles.

“I like it when she sings these,” the woman, Gilda, seemed to freely admit, offering a glance towards Rarity before her hawk-like eyes turned back to Dash, their amber sheen unnerving in broad daylight, almost terrifying in the half-lit ambiance of the bar and she reached down, pulling out a rolled-up smoke and then fishing out a flint-wheel lighter. Dash knew Gilda had paid big bucks to import the damn thing from Europe, and seemed to relish using it whenever she could to light up. Doing just that, she took a drag of her smoke and leaned back, observing Dash silently.

“Kinda sappy for me, but she’s always swell.” Dash shrugged.

“Faster ones don’t let her voice get as strong as slower do. She’s too staccato on quicker beats. Slow though?” She nodded as she listened for a moment, taking a puff of her smoke and savoring Rarity’s tone. “She’s one hell of a good crooner for being self-taught. Glad I caught the act tonight.”

“I’m glad you did too.” Dash nodded. “But... not so much for the singing. I got the lettuce.”

“So I guess I don’t have to break your hands,” she remarked. “Almost a shame. I figured with you running away for the night you’d not be able to cough it up.”

“Better luck next time.”

“You mean there’s going to be a next time? I figure’d you’d be smart enough to be scared straight,” Gilda remarked, holding her hand out over the booth’s table.

“Gambling’s in my blood, I guess,” Dash answered, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the bread. “Same way singing is in Rarity’s and being an asshole is in yours. I’m all about the high risks with the big payoff.”

She looked away, briefly, thinking of Applejack. In a way, the farmer was the surest bet she had ever went for. AJ was one of the few people willing to put up with Dash’s horseshit and, what’s more, seemed to thrive on it at times. There was an extra spring in her step when Dash was around, and it was a sight she liked seeing. But that wasn’t all Dash could or should bring to what they found themselves in now. She needed to show AJ she was just as hard-working and able to support the farmer as the farmer had been on supporting her. She had to pay Applejack back, with interest, otherwise she’d feel like nothing more than a damn burden to the best woman she knew. And in order to pay her back, there was no way she could go back to the farm as she was now, no matter how much she wanted to, no matter how much it felt like she needed to. She still had her pride, and that pride wouldn’t let her live like a dog at AJ’s feet. She had to stand alongside her, no matter what.

“You should learn to cut your losses,” Gilda remarked, taking the wad of cash and putting it in her pocket. “You’re not going to believe me, but I stalled for you for old times sake. I knew you’d turn up eventually, you moron. And if you didn’t…” Gilda took another long drag from her smoke. “Running wouldn’t stop me. I’d track you down and hurt you as bad as you hurt my reputation with Will’s boys.”

“Aw, you do care,” Dash answered.

“More than I should. You owe me.”

“I’ll pay you when I’m rich and flying a plane across the Atlantic,” Dash replied, watching Gilda count the bills. On nodding in confirmation that her debt was present and accounted for, Gilda leaned back, relaxing more into her chair.

“Well, business is out of the way. Maybe next time don’t be so fucking stupid,” Gilda remarked, contently watching as Rarity continued her performance. She raised a brow as Dash rose and stepped past her.

“What?” Gilda asked, “not catching the rest of the show?”

Dash gave a shake of her head. “You didn’t hear me say this, but there’s a bit of a show outside that I’d much rather catch.”

Saying nothing, Gilda watched Dash head out, content to watch the light of the stage while she sat in the dark.

They left the outskirts of the city behind them and drove into the night. Dash humming a little song to herself as they traveled up the road. AJ smiled at the woman—she seemed like the cat that caught the canary. AJ offered a smile to the woman.

“So, what’s the plan when we get home?” the farmer asked.

Dash grinned. “I was thinking about sleeping for three days straight.”

AJ smirked. “By yerself, or…?”

Dash raised her eyebrows, and cleared her throat. “Uh… I do like company, but doesn’t that mean you’ll have to play twenty questions with Mac and the kid?”

The farmer’s expression turned thoughtful. “It’s gonna have ta get out in the air eventually. Ya know I can’t keep shit from Mac or the girl. Don’t know what I’m gonna say.”

“It won’t be that tough… I’ll be back in the city before too long, and how we feel is our business, right?” Dash put a lot of obvious effort into trying to say the words effortlessly.

“Yer… yer goin’ back?” AJ finally managed to ask.

“Yeah.” She stared at the road. “When I’m out from under this, I… gotta go back, right? Try to find a way to make some lettuce, get a car, maybe learn to fly? I mean, you know how I feel about you, but…” She swallowed and didn’t finish the thought.

“Yer like a damn bird,” AJ remarked. It took her a moment to continue, and there was obvious hurt in her, even as she tried to smile. “Ain’t right ta cage ya. Ya got wings fer a reason, I guess.”

Dash rubbed the back of her neck. “Look, I’m not pretending it’s easy. I used to, and… I shouldn’t have. It hurt you, and that was lousy of me. It’s not easy, AJ.” She glanced over, her eyes seemed to be asking for something, but AJ wasn’t sure what. She was pretty sure Dash didn’t know herself.

“Hell. I ain’t easy on this either. Anyone else you could jus’ scoop up an’ take somewhere. I’m too rooted, sug. Family. The farm. I love that lil’ town, Evelyn. It’s where I need ta be, ya know? no matter how much I like the road sometimes too.”

“I love that about you, Jacqueline. You’ve got a life, and it’s perfect for you, and you’ve got me…” Dash grinned at AJ. “Can’t beat that, right?”

“A one-two combo, sug,” she replied. “I jus’ kinda wish… I dunno, hell. That I could have my cake an’ eat it too, I reckon. Selfish, but that’s jus’ how it is.” She looked up to the sky and sighed. “But there’s always tomorrow. I got my ticket. Now I jus’ gotta wait fer that damn ship yer steerin’ ta pull inta shore.” She gave a poke of Dash’s shoulder. “An’ when ya get that plane? Better be sure there’s a second seat in the thing fer me.”

Dash smiled. “It’s got your name on it.” She was quiet for a few moments. “AJ? What if you didn’t have to wait? I mean, not the whole time, at least.”

AJ shuffled a bit in her seat, turning to look at Dash. “What ya mean, hun?”

“Well… It’s probably dumb, but… when I got to the city, I was going to save up for a car of my own. I could fix it up and race it, and get out to see you easier, and get to the airfield. But…” Dash bit her lip, then glanced at Applejack. “What if instead of a car, I save up for my own garage back home?”

AJ beamed. “Ya know, that’d be a good idea, even if we weren’t… you know. I hear people complain’ all the time ‘bout havin’ ta lug their junk next town over. You could drum a pretty penny up that way.”

“I hope so! I still need to get my hands on a set of wheels of my own, and I still wanna be able to get out to the airfield. But being my own boss would be swell.” She grinned, lost in some daydreams. Eventually her face fell a little. “It’s still gonna take some doing, though. There’s a lot of equipment I’m gonna need, and it’s not cheap.”

“Well. Good thing I can give ya a hand with bread, sug.” She bridged her hands together and leaned back in her seat. “As smooth as we’re gettin’ on talkin’ our way outta trouble? A few more hooch runs’ll be easy money. Hell, if anythin’, next time we take two crates to yer girl.” She laughed. “Though maybe next time we don’t end up drivin’ this thing as naked as when we came inta the world.” A pause. “An’ next time we skip the part where I get my damn ass cut up by thorns.”

Dash giggled. “Well, if you insist, but I thought that part was hilarious.” She shook her head. “I dunno, AJ. I don’t want you getting into hot water over me. We had some close shaves there, and if you do this regular the feds might start to catch on. I wanna be with you. That’s gonna be kind of rough if you end up in the pen.”

Applejack shrugged. “I ain’t quittin’ my day job ta do this, Dash. Feds’ll only catch on if we stick to a schedule. Otherwise we’re jus’ two girls visitin’ the big city on occasion. We keep eveythin’ aces in how we act? Won’t be no reason for ‘em to look our way.” She nodded, all but deciding on the course of action already. “Ya know, we could always use a new barn at the farm too, if we’re talkin’ ‘bout savin’ up some money. Can’t let you have all the fun on it, after all.”

Dash stared at her for a few seconds. “You’re trying to talk me into bootlegging? I’m pretty sure this isn’t how it’s supposed to go down. You sure you didn’t bump your head last night? I know we got a little wild there…”

“A little?” AJ asked with a raise of her brow. “We did more in one night than most do all their lives. Maybe I got a lil’ taste, an’ wouldn’t mind a few bites more.” She scratched at her nose. “What happened last night aside, I ain’t a fan of people tellin’ me what I can’t an’ can’t do, if it don’t harm noone. That includes Uncle Sam. If he’s waggin’ his finger at me, then, well…” Smiling, she shrugged. “I didn’t have much of a rebellious phase as a teen, maybe it’s hittin’ me now, sug.”

“Well then, dollface, I think you found the right gal,” Dash said, throwing her arm over the back of the seat and giving Applejack a squeeze.

And under the moon’s light they drove, the twinkling stars above them pointing the way home.

Author's Note

Stay tuned to read more about Applejack, Dash, Gilda, Rarity, and the rest of the characters in this setting! Coming sometime...