Chapters Observations in Red
Rarity’s fingers danced through the book spines, her eyes scanning through the hundreds of titles lining the walls of Golden Oaks library. Fashion for Fashionistas was far too basic to provide any insight. Unconventional Fabrics was a bit closer to what she was looking for, but not quite right. She looked through hundreds of titles and found nothing. These were all the books on fashion and tailoring. If the book she was looking for wasn't here, then there was a good chance it simply didn't exist.
Rarity looked over her shoulder and called to Twilight. "Are these all the books on couture?"
Twilight sat crosslegged amidst hundreds of books stacked to the ceiling. Now normally Rarity wouldn't be surprised to find her surrounded by books, but the stacks of reading material were not restricted to Twilight's immediate surroundings. There were pillars of books all over the library, so many that Rarity wondered if they were not some quick fix to a collapsing roof.
Twilight looked up from the book on her lap. "That's all of them. What exactly are you looking for Rarity? There might be more useful books in another section."
Rarity twisted her mouth. She wasn't sure she wanted to say, but Sunday afternoons were slow and the library was empty. It couldn't hurt, she supposed. "I'm trying to make a shirt for Macintosh that he can't flex into oblivion."
"Oooh," Twilight said with a nod. "I completely understand. I–" Twilight stopped as the library door swung open.
Rarity turned. Well, speak of the devil, she thought as she cupped her cheek in her hand. He walked in wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and the usual look in his eyes–carefree, half closed, aloof, and confident. She wondered if Macintosh knew the effect he had on her when he peacocked in like that. She could never tell how aware he was of himself or his surroundings. Two days of working beside him on the farm and she still wasn't sure if he was oblivious or insightful. Goodness, what if he was the latter yet pretended to be the former? She wouldn't stand a chance.
Applejack walked in after her brother. Before Rarity could even say anything in greeting Twilight had rushed past her. She went to Macintosh and stopped him in his tracks with an outstretched hand on his chest.
"Macintosh, you can't just...strut in here and distract my patrons with your nudity," Twilight spluttered.
Macintosh frowned and placed his hand across his forehead as if shielding the sun from his eyes. He leaned forward and squinted as he scanned the room looking for Twilight's “patrons”. Twilight glared at him and pointed at Rarity.
Macintosh tilted his head. "She likes me with my shirt off."
Rarity's face turned a bright red like an apple about to be bucked. She glared at him. He didn’t notice.
"Twilight, it's okay," Applejack said. "If it means that much to ya, then I'll just give him my shirt." Applejack’s hands moved to unfasten the buttons on her plaid shirt. She only needed to undo a single button to expose ample cleavage uncontained, and Rarity’s face grew hotter.
"N-No! That won't be necessary," Twilight said, her cheeks flushing as well.
Rarity rubbed her cheeks to hurry the blush away. She took a deep breath and sauntered forward. "My goodness, if you aren't careful the both of you will surely send the entire adult population of Ponyville into conniptions," Rarity said with a somewhat forced chuckle.
"Quite." Twilight pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's fine, I guess it would be alright just this once."
Macintosh smiled and made his pecs dance a jig of triumph.
Twilight slapped her forehead and looked away. "How can I help you?".
"Mac wanted to check out a book on cheesemaking, and Ah figured it'd be a nice opportunity to drop in an' say hi." Applejack looked around at the columns of books that seemed to hold up the room. "You, uh, got a few more books than usual," Applejack said as Big Macintosh made his way to the food processing section.
"Oh, you noticed," Twilight said with a sheepish smile. "Well, a rare book collector recently died—the books she collected were rare, I mean, not a book collector who was rare—and left her collection to the royal library, but the collection was so massive it had to be kept in storage. Princess Celestia thought it was sort of a waste, so she asked if I had room in my library and I said yes, but, uh...it turned out I didn't." She rubbed the back of her neck and looked over her shoulder at the stacks.
"Why don't ya just ask the princess to take 'em back?" Applejack asked.
"Because there's nothing to worry about,” Twilight said proudly, “I thought of a brilliant plan, if I do say so myself. All I have to do is shrink all the books in the library by just two percent. The change will be so small as to be imperceptible, but the shelf space I save will be substantial."
"Shrink every book? Won't that take a long time?" Applejack asked.
"It will...take a bit of time, yes.” Twilight said with a nervous laugh.
As Applejack and Twilight continued their conversation, Rarity looked at Big Macintosh gliding his fingers across the spines of books. He picked out a book and opened it to a random page. His eyes would flick back and forth before flipping to a new page. A few pages later, Macintosh snapped the book shut, replaced it in the shelf, and chose another one to repeat the process.
"Wouldn't it be easier to just make some space for 'em. This place is pretty big, ain't there anywhere you could stick 'em?" Applejack asked.
Twilight tapped her chin in thought. "Well, there's the basement, but it's completely bare. I would have to dip into the library's budget and pay for at least a dozen bookshelves. Actually..." Twilight fell into silence, her eyes going from the stacks of books to her existing shelves and then, finally, to Macintosh, buried in another book. As if feeling her stare, Macintosh turned to meet her gaze. Twilight quickly looked away and back at Applejack. “There’s a furniture store in Canterlot that specializes in shelving for libraries. If I go through them then it wouldn’t be too expensive.”
“Really?” Rarity asked. “Why don’t you ask Macintosh?”
Macintosh seemed to teleport behind Applejack’s shoulder. He appeared so suddenly that Twilight stepped back in surprise. Not a word came from his mouth, but his head was tilted in curiosity as he stared at Twilight.
Dear Twilight didn’t know how to react to Macintosh’s sudden interest. She opened her mouth several times as if to say something, but she couldn’t find any proper words. A few seconds passed by in silence until Macintosh held out a book to Twilight.
“Oh,” Twilight said, a wave of relief easing the tension in her face. “You just want to check out a book.” She grabbed the book and went to the front desk where her ledger lay. As she did, Macintosh clasped Applejack’s shoulder and brought her close enough to whisper in her ear. Applejack cocked an eyebrow and a smile grew slowly onto her lips. The siblings separated and Applejack moseyed over to Twilight.
“Been awhile since we had ya over for dinner, Twi. We’d love to host ya tonight if ya don’t mind.”
“Oh, uh,” Twilight was taken aback by the sudden invitation. She looked past Applejack at Macintosh and held out his book to him. He took it without a word. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”
“Ain’t no bother. It’s Mac’s turn to make Sunday dinner and he always makes too much.”
Rarity furrowed her brow. “Applejack, I thought it was your--”
“So whaddya say, Twilight? You in?”
Twilight smiled wide. “Of course. It would be a nice change of pace from sandwiches. I’ll make my way to the farm right after I close up the library.”
Applejack nodded. “See ya then.” She raised her hand toward Rarity and Macintosh and beckoned them to her. “C’mon you two, we gotta finish up some chores before dinner.” She gave Twilight a smile before heading for the door.
“More chores?” Rarity slumped her shoulders, but then took a deep breath and puffed out her chest. Well, at the very least, all this physical labor meant she could eat more of the Apples’ delicious Sunday dinner without worrying too much about her figure for once.
Rarity was about to follow the Apple siblings out when Twilight tapped her on the shoulder. She held out a book to Rarity. Confused, Rarity took it and read the title: Casting Cloth: Applications of Magic in Textiles .
“For both our sakes,” Twilight said.
Rarity gave her a single nod, and tucked the book under her arm. After a quick goodbye, Rarity ran to catch up to Macintosh and Applejack. She pushed herself between them and walked beside the two. Rarity looked at each of them and noticed how thick their arms looked beside hers. She smirked and hooked her arms around each of them. Neither of them seemed to mind.
“So, are either of you going to tell me what happened in there?”
“Don’t look at me,” Applejack said with a sly smile. “Mac here’s the one that wanted me to invite Twilight to dinner. Even offered to take my turn cooking. You better be careful, Rarity. Looks like you got some friendly competition.”
Rarity chuckled. “If it’s Twilight, I would gladly back down. Even I would admit they would make a cute couple: he so tall and strong and she so small and smart…” Rarity trailed off into a wistful sigh.
Macintosh grunted and pulled free of Rarity’s arm. A quick two-step placed him in front of the two mares. “Gonna go ahead and get dinner ready.” Applejack gave him a nod, and he jogged down the path. He was past the horizon in half a minute.
“In all seriousness,” Rarity stared at the road ahead, “do you really think Macintosh is trying to...court Twilight?”
Applejack smiled a dastardly little smile that made Rarity wonder if she was staring into a mirror. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Rarity narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Who would have thought that the Element of Honesty could be so devious. Perhaps, after all these years, Rarity was having a little bit of an influence. Well, she couldn’t say she wasn’t proud.
Applejack greeted Twilight at the door before she could even knock. The farm mare smiled and wrapped an arm around Twilight’s shoulder, hurrying Twilight inside her home as if inviting in family. Twilight supposed, after all this time, it wouldn’t be wrong to think of the Apples as family. Really, the Apples were the type to call all their friends family. They were a place to go for a good meal and pleasant company. It had been a week or so since Twilight enjoyed either, swamped with work as she was.
Rarity stepped off the staircase just as Applejack ushered in Twilight. They gave each other a quick greeting and together the three of them went into the kitchen to have themselves a feast. As always, the table was laden with a wide variety of food. Salads, both Waldorf and Caesar, cornbread and biscuits, cutlets and steaks, and not to mention every possible dish that could be made with apples (and a few that probably shouldn’t). Twilight smiled at it all, and still Macintosh was bringing out even more food.
What truly impressed Twilight, however, was that Macintosh was actually wearing a shirt, a button-down with plaid in several shades of red, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He actually looked pretty good in it. He smiled at her as he set down a bowl of roasted carrots, and Twilight returned with her own nervous smile and a small wave that she instantly regretted. Who waves at someone inside their house?
Applejack patted Twilight’s shoulder. “He ain’t gonna bite, Twilight,” she said with a grin.
“Even if he did I’m sure he’s the type to ask first,” Rarity added.
Twilight forced a smile and nodded while taking her seat next to Applejack, who sat beside Rarity. They wouldn’t understand, not really. Applejack and Rarity were tied for the tallest of the Elements, both reaching a height of six foot three, and Macintosh was still a head and shoulders taller. But that difference in height seemed to shrink when they talked to him, full of confidence and a bit of a teasing tone.
She just had to be calm. He was Applejack’s brother, and it wasn’t as if they were complete strangers. Besides, the average height of earth ponies was around six feet anyway, not too far off from Macintosh’s height. Though...the median height was only five feet and five inches. It was outliers like Big Macintosh that skewed the mean.
Twilight took a deep breath. This really wasn’t a big deal , she lied to herself. Just think of it like talking to the Princess. She’s even taller, and you talk to her all the time.
Big Macintosh set down a cup of tea in front of Twilight, and the very sight of the steam rising from the mug made her relax.
Twilight smiled. “Thank you, Princess.”
Her heart stopped and her hand slapped over her mouth. She looked up at Macintosh, slightly frightened at what she might see, but only found him smiling at her.
“Welcome,” he said. He chuckled and added, “My little pony.” Without another word, he went back to preparing the table.
Twilight’s cheeks burned bright red as she looked over at Applejack and Rarity. They were so deep into conversation neither of them noticed. Oh thank Celestia.
Chairs shuffled, and Applebloom and Granny Smith joined them. Everyone said their hello’s as Macintosh sat down across from Rarity, the last to do so.
Twilight’s embarrassment gave way to hunger as she gazed in awe at the buffet before her. She licked her lips, and her stomach curled into itself. It really had been a while since she had eaten a hot meal. She had been busy cataloguing the new books, and she was only halfway done despite days of work.
The food was delicious. Despite Twilight’s best attempts to get only a tiny bit of everything, there was still a rather large pile of food on her plate. Oh well, dinner at the Apples always turned into a mild exercise in gluttony.
“You sure you got enough there, dearie?” Granny Smith asked Twilight.
“Oh yes, thank you,” Twilight said, shoving a forkful of green beans into her mouth. Satisfied, Granny Smith tucked into her own plate.
“I’m surprised you volunteered to work on Sweet Apple Acres, Rarity,” Twilight said after swallowing her food. Good, good. Opening up with a little small talk. Perfect. The last thing she needed was another social faux pas.
“Apparently she thought it could help her make denim jeans,” Applejack chimed in.
“It’s not simply to make a pair of pants, Applejack,” Rarity said with a flick of her hair. “It’s to incorporate denim and the workwear aesthetic it represents into high fashion. I decided that the best way to gain inspiration for this was to work on the farm for a little while. It was Applejack that extended it to a month.”
“Is there much of a demand for high fashion clothes made out of denim?” Twilight asked.
“Oh Twilight, you should have seen Manehattan’s spring fashion show! Such evocative designs were made with denim this year. Of course, it was all avant garde, and even the most high concept fashionista wouldn’t wear such designs as they would, say, the latest Silver Stitch. But I can spot the beginnings of a trend from miles away. I tell you this now, this summer you’ll be seeing nothing but denim in every reputable fashion magazine, not to mention a few disreputable ones.”
Granny Smith cackled from the head of the table. “That so? Times sure have changed. Back in my day those fancy folk used to make fun of us for wearing those rough clothes.”
“Speaking of,” Rarity said, “I’m surprised you’re wearing a shirt, Macintosh. It looks lovely on you.” She grinned a sly smile, as if not at all surprised.
Big Macintosh stared at his plate. “It should. You made it,” he said, almost mumbling.
“Oh yes, of course,” Rarity said, stabbing a piece of broccoli with her fork. “I’m so happy to see it all in one piece.”
“Eeyup,” Macintosh said. “Sure is strong. Too bad there’s a loose strand.”
Rarity’s fork split her plate in half. “What?” Her voice seemed ready to kill.
Macintosh didn’t answer and only stood and rounded the table to clean up the broken dish. There, at the very hem of the shirt, was a strand of red thread poking out like a worm from an apple. Rarity made a grab for it, but Macintosh deftly dodged her lunging hand.
Once Rarity received a new plate (and after another failed attempt at grabbing the loose strand), dinner conversation continued at a comfortable pace, branching off and doubling back as conversations often do. Even Rarity managed to settle back into her topics of fashion, though her eyes would often dart over to Macintosh.
Soon the discussion outlasted the meal, and continued even as Macintosh cleared and washed the dishes. Twilight leaned back in her chair as Rarity, Applejack, Granny Smith, and Applebloom talked about the next day’s chores. She patted her stomach, now satisfied.
“Twilight?”
Twilight bristled and jumped to sit straight as a deep voice called her name. She looked up at the pair of emerald eyes trained on her.
“Y-yes?”
“Would you mind coming out to the porch with me? I’ve been meaning to talk to ya,” Macintosh said.
“Oh! Uh, okay,” Twilight said, almost jumping to her feet. Without so much as a break in the conversation, she followed Macintosh out the front door and to the porch.
Even on a late spring night such as this, the breeze that blew was a cold one, and Twilight, in her sweater vest and pleated skirt, shivered as she stepped out into the apple-sweetened air. Big Macintosh took a match and struck it on his jeans. He lit a lantern, fiddling with it until he was satisfied with the dull warmth.
A couple of wicker chairs were their seating, and Twilight was relieved to find a thermos and two mugs on a table between them.
“Hot cider?” Macintosh asked, and Twilight didn’t hesitate to nod.
The subtle flavors of cinnamon and nutmeg tingled on her tongue and the warm burn of alcohol warmed her stomach. Twilight sighed into her mug.
The two of them sat in silence as they sipped their drinks. All the while Twilight could think of nothing but what to say once their mugs had emptied. Was she supposed to say something? No, of course not. Macintosh was the one that invited her outside to talk. The impetus of conversation lay with him.
But it sure was a lovely night. A part of her would have been just fine staying out here for a little while longer. If only she didn’t have the overwhelming urge to fill the silence.
“I wanna build those shelves for ya.”
Twilight tensed. She knew this was coming, ever since his visit to the library earlier that day.
“Listen, Macintosh, it’s not that I don’t know you’d do a good job, it’s just…” Twilight fidgeted as she tried to find the right way to put it. The front door swung open, and Rarity sashayed onto the front porch.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said.
“It’s okay, Rarity. Me and Macintosh were just talking,” Twilight said, genuinely relieved that her friend had bought her a little time.
“In that case, don’t mind me,” Rarity said. “I simply came to get some fresh air.” She sat in a chair at the other side of the front door, seemingly focused on the apple trees.
“It’s just that I feel like I might be taking advantage of you,” Twilight continued. “I’m sure you’re busy enough with the farm. The last thing I would want to do is take up your valuable time. I mean, what would Applejack think?”
Macintosh chuckled and poured himself another mug of cider. “Twilight, you ain’t gotta a worry a bit about the farm or Applejack. You leave both of ‘em to me. When all’s said an’ done this is your decision, and I sure don’t wanna force you into anything you’re uncomfortable with. That said, if you won’t have me because you don’t think I’m the best stallion for the job, then that’s fine, but if that ain’t the case, if you look at me and you know that I’m the best, and you don’t let me do it anyway, well, that’d be a might shame, I think.”
Twilight stared at her empty mug for a long while. She refilled her mug and sipped at the cider. He had brought up a good point, and deep down Twilight knew that Macintosh was more than capable.
“It’s a deal. Can you come over early tomorrow before the library opens so we can discuss the details?”
“Eeyup.” Macintosh downed the rest of his cider and stood. He bowed his head to Twilight in farewell and headed back inside.
Rarity dived and plucked the stray strand off Macintosh’s shirt as he passed. She cackled as she held the offending strand in the air. Macintosh blinked and quirked an eyebrow at Rarity. He kept staring until Rarity’s grin shrank.
Macintosh grabbed the hem of his shirt with both hands, a two inch space between them. Twilight leaned in her chair for a better look. Between his hands was a small rip in the seam, and a few strands fell out of place. By the horrified look on Rarity's face, Twilight guessed the seamstress noticed it as well. Macintosh looked down at her, his eyes narrowed in slight annoyance. He clicked his tongue with the same impact as a clock ticking away another minute, but the pained expression on Rarity made if feel as if that clock had taken a year off her life.
Without another word, Macintosh went back inside.
"I can fix it!" Rarity called after him, but either Macintosh didn't hear her or didn't bother to acknowledge what she said. A heavy sigh hissed through Rarity's lips, and she slumped in her chair. She didn't say anything for a while, and Twilight tapped the side of her mug, unsure of how to break the awkward silence that had developed.
To Twilight's surprise, Rarity chuckled. "It seems Macintosh and I are destined to be nothing more than slight annoyances to each other." Rarity focused on the stars above the apple orchard, her face indecipherable to Twilight.
"That's not true," Twilight said, raking her mind for the right thing to say. Honestly, Twilight didn't really understand what had happened between Macintosh and Rarity. All that had happened was Rarity plucking a loose strand and Macintosh going back into his own house. Yet somehow, these seemingly innocuous events had perturbed Rarity in a way Twilight rarely saw.
"You made him that shirt, right?" Twilight guessed. It was the only way to explain why Macintosh wasn't half naked at dinner.
"I did," Rarity said.
"How did he react when you gave it to him?"
"Well I...I simply gave it to him and told him it was a gift." Rarity held out her hand as if holding out a box to an invisible pony. "He told me 'thank you' and then left. His expression never changed. Not even a smile. Frankly, I think he hated it."
"But he wore it."
"Yes, and your point?"
Twilight smiled. "Do you think he would have worn it if he hated it? I'll be the first to admit I don't know Macintosh all that well, but he certainly doesn't seem like the kind of pony that would wear something just to be nice. If he wore it, then that has to mean he liked it. Maybe he was annoyed because you made the loose strand even worse."
Not a word came from Rarity for several seconds. Her gaze fell from the stars down to the porch's wooden railing. With her chin pinched, she lost herself deep in thought.
"Maybe you're right, Twilight." Rarity sat up straight in her chair and smiled. "And if you are, that means all I have to do to make amends is repair the shirt." A small chuckle passed through her lips. "For a pony professing she knows so little about Macintosh, you certainly seem to have a bit of insight, but that shouldn't be surprising considering your new relationship with him."
"Oh right, you heard that part," Twilight said with a shy smile. "Between you and me, did you just come out here to hear us talk?"
"Oh of course not, sweetie. I came out here to get a chance to pluck that horrible strand on the hem of his shirt. If I wanted to eavesdrop I would have stayed by the door. Although, I'm surprised you were so composed and nonchalant when speaking about such things."
Twilight shrugged, not sure why hiring a friend to do some carpentry would be anything but nonchalant. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Rarity."
"Of course, I completely agree," Rarity said quickly. "I just didn't think you were that experienced with this sort of thing."
"Well, I’m not really," Twilight said with a smile. "But it's not about being experienced, Rarity. It's more about being open and communicating your concerns. Though to be honest, I'm a little worried. I hope his absence won’t be too much trouble for Applejack and the farm. Though, now that I think about it, Macintosh might have enough stamina to help me and still work on Sweet Apple Acres."
"He certainly is physically fit,” Rarity said, almost a mutter. “And I’m sure Applejack will understand, it’s you after all." Rarity said with a kind smile. "Even so, I admire you taking the risk." She stood and stretched her arms above her with a pleased sigh. Taking a few steps to the door, Rarity placed a reassuring hand on Twilight's shoulder.
"I wish you the best of luck," Rarity said. Then, with a mischievous smirk, continued, "Oh, and I'll be expecting all the lurid details, of course, especially his length and girth. Now obviously, asking in the middle of a rut would be a tad awkward, so what I usually do is measure the width of my palms and estimate that way." She balled her hands, placed them one on top of the other, and shook them vigorously for a quick second to explicitly illustrate her point.
Twilight's eyes widened, pupils shrinking to the size of needlepoints. With deep red cheeks, her mouth fell open. Rarity's smirk faded away slowly and her mouth pursed into a slight 'o' as the realization finally hit her.
"You're not having sex with Macintosh, are you?" Rarity asked.
"What!?"
The downstairs basement was a room that very few ponies knew about. The staircase that spiraled down was tucked into the far corner of the library, hidden beneath a trapdoor. When Twilight first settled in Ponyville she had intended to turn the room into a secret laboratory, but local zoning laws kept her from housing volatile chemicals and thus from ever realizing her dream. The room itself was quite spacious for a basement, as much room as the story above and tall enough for Macintosh to stand in comfortably.
The walls and floor, however, remained unfinished. Only cement and concrete as far as the eye could see. As a result, the chill of an early spring night penetrated the concrete easily. Macintosh examined the walls and trailed his palm against the rough cinderblock. Every so often he would stop and write down notes on a notebook.
All the while Twilight watched him. He was wearing the same shirt as last night, with the same tear at the hem. It smelled freshly laundered at least, and Twilight wondered if that was the only shirt he owned.
"So Macintosh," Twilight began, "I was thinking the shelves could be the same as the ones upstairs."
"Eeyup," Macintosh said. He handed her his notebook.
Twilight's eyes scanned down the long list, passing entries such as insulation, studding, drywall, flooring, new tables and chairs, and, of course, shelving. Twilight gulped. "That's, uh, you're doing a lot," Twilight said. "I thought you were just going to build some shelves."
"If you just want shelves then I can give you shelves, but seems a shame to put 'em in an unfinished basement."
"And how much is this going to cost?"
Macintosh tilted his head. "Free."
"F-free?" Twilight took a step back and shook her head. "No, no. I have to pay you something. I can't let you pay for the insulation and drywall and other stuff on your own, not to mention the cost of labor."
Macintosh shrugged. "Got plenty already. Don't worry about labor."
"No, I insist," Twilight persisted. "Listen, I put aside five hundred bits from the library's budget for the shelves. I want you to have them."
Macintosh smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Twilight, you're one of Applejack's best friends, and you helped out the farm a dozen times over. I didn't charge for the fabric rack I built for Rarity last year, and I sure as shootin' ain't gonna charge you for this. Think of it as a token of gratitude." He withdrew his hand and gave her a nod that closed any further discussion.
Twilight returned his nod with one of her own. She wanted to say more, but Macintosh had his mind set. It wasn't as if she could force him to take the bits. "Thank you, Macintosh, that's very kind of you. If there's anything you need, then just let me know. How long do you think it's going to take?"
"Depends," Mac said. "Whether I work all day or just in the morning and night when there ain't anyone here."
"I'm willing to close the library for as long as you need. It's not like there's a lot of space for patrons to sit and read."
Macintosh nodded. "I can get framing, insulation, and drywall up by tonight if I get started right away. Making and installing the flooring, tables, chairs, and shelves'll take three days."
"You're going to start today?"
"Eeyup, unless you got a reason for me not to."
"No, not at all," Twilight said quickly.
"Then I'm gonna get back to the farm and pick up some supplies. I'll be back in less than an hour." Macintosh climbed up the staircase and seconds later the bell on her front door rang.
Twilight looked at the bare, cinderblock walls and then at the list of in Macintosh's notebook. To think Macintosh would do all this for free. It felt a bit strange. He wanted to do this to show his gratitude, but really all it did was make Twilight grateful to him. She decided then and there to put aside those five hundred bits and use it to get him a birthday present. If only she knew what to get him...or his birth date.
With Macintosh gone and the library closed for the rest of the day, Twilight busied herself with cataloging the new books. Forty-five minutes passed before she heard the low rumble of wheels getting louder and louder. From the windows she saw Macintosh pulling a wagon filled with drywall and boards of wood. She quickly headed outside.
Though the wagon seemed to weigh hundreds of pounds, Macintosh had no trouble pulling it. In fact, he looked as if he was out for a leisurely stroll across his hometown, and not a drop of sweat soiled his shirt. Still, Twilight supposed, the effort to pull such a heavy cart was surely taxing no matter how strong a pony was.
"Would you like anything to eat or drink, Macintosh?" she asked as he stopped in front of the library.
"Nope," Macintosh said. He headed to the back of the cart and checked to see if every can of paint, every piece of drywall, and every miscellaneous powder, tool, and bag was still there.
"Oh okay," Twilight said. "Well, if there's anything I can do just let me know."
Macintosh grunted and stared at the supplies he brought. "You got some spell to bring all this downstairs?" he asked.
Twilight beamed. "Absolutely!" A dull red glow emanated from her horn, and in a flash of magic the materials vanished, presumably teleported to the basement.
"Thanks," Macintosh said with a nod.
Macintosh wasted no time in starting his work, and the first thing he did once in the basement was sort out everything in the far corner. After that, he took his measuring tape and measured every single distance that could be measured in the room. The width, the length, the diagonal, the height, various middles, and even the space between the top of his head and the exposed floor joists above. Every measurement he took, he wrote down.
Twilight watched with genuine interest. Not his measuring, but the stallion himself. She watched for any sign of discomfort or annoyance. He was a guest in her home after all, and she not only wanted to be a good host, but a good friend as well. A single bead of sweat formed on Macintosh's forehead and darkened his coat.
Twilight pounced. "Are you getting hot, Macintosh? I could bring down a fan if you'd like, or I could even magically turn down the temperature by a few degrees."
"Nope," Macintosh said.
"Oh, okay." Twilight shuffled her feet and looked on. As she waited, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She fidgeted every so often, a scratch of her arm, a tap of her foot, little things like that. Every time, she would catch Macintosh's attention.
Twilight admonished herself. All her fidgeting was getting on Macintosh's nerves. He couldn't work if he kept getting distracted every few seconds. From then on, she stood perfectly still and did nothing but stare at Macintosh.
Finished with measuring, Macintosh grabbed a can of white paint and a roller brush and set both beside the wall. As he did, he caught a glimpse of Twilight's staring.
"Uh, Twilight?"
"Yes!" Twilight leapt at the chance to do something for her friend.
"You ain't gotta be here all the time," Macintosh said. "I'm sure there's plenty of things you'd rather be doing than watch me work."
"Oh, well...it would be really rude of me to leave you here by yourself. You are my guest, after all."
Macintosh nodded. "Would you like to help? Just having you stand still watching me is making me a bit nervous."
"Sure!" Twilight didn't hesitate. She had actually hoped he would ask for her help. It would be an excellent opportunity to learn about something she knew nothing about. Plus, if she helped, then she wouldn't feel so bad about not paying anything for the remodel. She grabbed a paintbrush from Mac's toolbox and joined him just as he was pouring the paint into a pan.
"So why are we painting the walls, anyway?" Twilight asked as Macintosh dipped his roller brush and made the first white streak on the gray wall.
"It's a waterproof sealant," Macintosh answered. "Concrete's pourous, so any water that gets on one side is gonna get through to the other. If you just lay wood on it bare like that, the wood's gonna soak up that moisture and rot."
Twilight cupped her hand below her paint-soaked paintbrush as she brought it to the wall. "I have to admit, Macintosh, I didn't expect you to know so much about construction. Where did you learn about it?"
"Dad taught me," Macintosh said. "Used to be in construction before he married into the Apples."
"Oh, did he teach you carpentry too?" Twilight asked.
"Nope, learned that from my grandpa. He used to be a carpenter before he married into the Apples."
Twilight smiled. "So which do you like better: farming, carpentry, or construction?" It wasn't a serious question, but one of those playful ones friends often asked to get to know one another better.
Macintosh hummed in thought. "Can't pick. I suppose if a unicorn put a horn to my neck I'd say construction just 'cause that's what I'm helping you with now. Ask me tomorrow, I'd probably say carpentry if only 'cause I'd be working on your shelves. Guess I just like to feel useful."
Twilight nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean."
They continued working and talking together as the day wore on. Twilight would ask questions, either about the construction process or about Macintosh and his life, and Macintosh would answer in his usual straightforward way. Sometimes, he would even ask a question or two in return. Twilight enjoyed their time together. She felt as if she was getting to know Macintosh as a friend rather than as a friend's brother. The lessons in finishing a basement were an added bonus.
Soon they finished the framing, insulation, and drywall. As Twilight gazed at the room, now white with drywall streaked with mud and tape, she couldn't help but feel a little proud of herself. She smiled, placed her hands on her hips, and puffed out her chest a little.
"Feels good, don't it?" Macintosh said with a smile.
"It really does," Twilight said as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. "So what's next?"
"We're done for now. Just gotta put in the flooring before we paint the walls," Macintosh said. "I'll be back on Thursday to finish everything, until then I'm gonna get to work building the shelves and such. I think–"
His growling stomach interrupted him, and Macintosh placed a hand over it as if to muffle the sound. "Beg pardon," he muttered.
Twilight smiled. "Don't worry, I'm hungry too. I can make us some sandwiches and we can have a late lunch. It won't be a Sunday feast, but it'll probably be the best ham and cheese sandwich you ever had."
Macintosh chuckled. "I'd like that."
Rarity sat beneath the shade of an apple tree. Her legs ached, and no matter how much she massaged them the soreness would not go away. Damn that Macintosh, running off with Twilight. Unfortunately for Rarity, Macintosh's absence meant that all his chores fell on her. To think that Applejack could possibly believe that Rarity could do the same amount of work as that hulking brute. Why, it was practically an insult.
The worst part of it all was that Macintosh had refused Rarity the chance to repair his shirt that morning. She had demanded again and again, but ultimately the situation devolved into similar circumstances as the Glove Fiasco, complete with Applejack finding them and giving Rarity another scolding. Oh, she couldn't even begin to imagine how things were transpiring at the library. Twilight was the curious type, and Macintosh never explained anything with good reason. Surely they would do nothing but butt heads the moment he arrived.
"C'mon, Rarity, break’s over," Applejack called out as she approached her newest farmhand.
Rarity groaned. "Just another minute, Applejack, please? My legs still hurt."
"You ain't even done with half of Mac's chores, and you're already giving up?" Applejack crossed her arms over her chest.
"I am not giving up," Rarity said through gritted teeth. "I am simply asking for a couple more minutes of rest. Honestly, Applejack, is that so unreasonable? Do you really expect me to be able to do all of Macintosh's chores after only two days of working on a farm?"
Applejack sighed, and her expression softened. "Well, I guess you got a point there."
A whistle pierced the apple-scented air. Both mares turned and saw Big Macintosh coming down the path leading to Ponyville. He waved at them as he approached. Oh thank goodness, with Macintosh back on the farm, Rarity would have a much easier time.
"Howdy, big brother," Applejack greeted him as he came up beside her. "How'd it go with Twilight?"
"Fun," Macintosh said to Rarity's surprise. "Twilight pitched in, and we talked a little bit. It was nice. I really like her."
Applejack smiled. "She's a likeable sort of pony. You still need to get her shelves done, right? Hope you gave her a good price."
"Good as free," Macintosh said with a nod. "Floors, chairs, and tables too. Gonna go get started."
Cold panic started to overwhelm Rarity as Macintosh made his way to the barn. "Wait, Macintosh, do you need any help?"
"Nope," Macintosh said without turning to face her.
"We can talk while we work," Rarity called after him, desperate for a way out of her chores. "We can have fun too." He didn't respond. "I'm a likeable sort of pony!" Rarity slumped her shoulders as Macintosh disappeared behind the barn doors. She sighed and glared at Applejack. "Why does he get to relax and build furniture while I'm stuck here doing all of his hard labor?"
Applejack smirked. "Belly achin' ain't gonna get your chores done any faster. Besides, he's helping out Twilight."
"Oh yes, Twilight," Rarity huffed. "She wants furniture and Macintosh gives her furniture. All for free. Meanwhile, I have to fight him for a meager pair of gloves or the chance to mend his shirt, and do all his chores for him on top of that."
Applejack tilted her head, and her smirk widened into a grin. "Rarity, are you jealous?"
"Jealous? Me? Ridiculous!" Rarity crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "I just think you should show more concern that your brother is playing favorites with your friends."
"Favorites?" Applejack repeated. "Didn’t he make you a fabric rack last year? If I remember right, he didn't charge you anything for it either."
"Yes, yes, the fabric rack is lovely, it's perfection. But ever since I started working on the farm, it's felt as if he's been going against me purely for the sake of annoying me. I could tell him to pick up a bag of bits on the ground, and he would refuse just because I was the one to tell him. It's absolutely frustrating."
Applejack hummed in thought. "That doesn't sound like Mac. Have you tried talking to him?"
"Oh, what would be the point?" Rarity said. She stood up and dusted herself off. "All he would say is 'eeyup' or 'nope', and probably annoy me just for the fun of it."
Applejack chuckled and shook her head. "If you say so. Now let's go, we've wasted enough time already."
The work didn't ease as the day went on, in fact it only became tougher. Thankfully, an hour in the tub at the end of the day managed to ease some of the soreness away, but by the time she reached her room, fatigue racked her body to the point where she couldn't even think about working on her designs. Yet, even once tucked beneath her blankets, Rarity found it difficult to sleep. The thought of repeating the day's chores tomorrow filled her with a slight sense of dread, but she refused to succumb to despair. She was Rarity, after all, and she would face tomorrow with her usual gusto.
Unfortunately, tomorrow did not come and go without a fight, nor did the day after. Rarity had hoped that her body would get used to the work, but if anything the continued soreness only made each day exponentially more horrendous. But she kept going, by Celestia she kept going, even if it was to keep Applejack from saying 'I told you so'.
The third day's setting sun found Rarity on her back on a grassy hill, completely worn out after finishing another round of chopping wood. Was she still alive? Rarity didn't know anymore. Her whole body felt light and incorporeal, as if she was floating up and away to the great fashion show in the sky where silk flowed like rivers and every single pant, jumpsuit, and skirt had actual pockets.
A great shadow blocked out Rarity's view of the orange and purple sky, and she groaned as she recognized Applejack standing over her.
"Gotta say, Ah'm mighty impresses. You might be a good farmer yet," Applejack said with a smile.
"I rather be dead," Rarity moaned. "At least then all these aches would stop."
Applejack chuckled. "C'mon, we're quittin' early today. Twilight's stopping by to have a look at the furniture Mac made."
Rarity sat up and winced as her muscles strained with every movement. "He's done already?"
"Eeyup," Applejack said. "There's still time for a bath before Twilight gets here. Ah know how much you hate being smelly when we got guests over."
Rarity rolled her eyes. "I hate being smelly in general."
"That too."
Applejack waved a farewell and went on her way, leaving Rarity alone to enjoy the view for a few more seconds. A bath sounded divine, and Rarity would be lying if she didn't admit she wanted to see how the shelves turned out. With tiny gasps and groans, Rarity managed to stand and head for the farmstead.
The bath did wonders for her aches, and, though not completely gone, the pain dulled enough to allow her movement without flinching. Putting on a pair of sandals, Rarity left the coziness of the farmstead and stepped into the chilly night air. The lights inside the barn were on.
"Hey Rarity," Twilight waved from down the path, and Rarity waved back as she quickly walked to join her. Thankfully, the awkwardness of their previous encounter had mellowed out with time, and Rarity was content to leave that bit of embarrassment in the past.
"Good evening, Twilight," Rarity said as the two walked side by side. "I heard your shelves are done. Excited?"
Twilight grinned and nodded. "Eeyup. I can't wait. How's working on the farm?"
"Grueling," Rarity said without hesitation. "Especially since I've had to pick up the slack Macintosh left."
"Slack?" Twilight asked.
Rarity quickly backtracked. She feared that going into more detail would cause Twilight to unduly think she was the reason for Rarity's increased workload. Well, technically she was, it was her shelves Macintosh neglected his farmwork for after all, but Rarity didn't want Twilight to overthink it.
"Oh, it's nothing really," Rarity said. They were at the barn door now, it stood slightly ajar with a strip of light peering through from the other side. Rarity took the chance to distract from the current topic and knocked hard on the heavy wood.
"Eeyup."
Rarity took it as an invitation to come in and swung open the door. The scent of sawdust and wood stain assaulted her nose as Macintosh busied himself with painting another coat on a chair.
Twilight's eyes widened. "Macintosh, they're beautiful."
Once Rarity became accustomed to the smell, she turned her focus on the furniture. The shelves, chairs, and tables all looked like exact replicas of ones Twilight already had in her library. Rarity wouldn't call them ornate, but they surely were not plain. The sleek wood each had tastefully carved lines and whorls to give them a more whimsical feel. The shelves were tall and deep, painted to match the library. Their construction was far more impressive than their design, would be Rarity's review. Nonetheless, she had to admit that the design suited Twilight's aesthetic perfectly.
"Not a bad job at all, Macintosh," Rarity said as Twilight bounced from chair to table to shelf in the cramped barn space.
"They're perfect!"
"Eeyup, Macintosh said. "Just gotta finish staining this chair. They'll be ready by tomorrow."
"Are these the floorboards?" Twilight asked as she picked up a long narrow sheet of wood, one of many stacked against the wall. It was stained a light amber that highlighted the natural grain of the wood.
"Eeyup."
Twilight grinned. "I can't wait to see what it all looks like in the basement." She seemed to have calmed down a bit as she looked at one of the chairs. "Would it be okay if I sit?"
"Eeyup," Macintosh said, "just make sure it's dry."
Twilight trailed a finger across the chair's seat. Finding it dry, she took a seat and a deep breath. "Thank you, Macintosh.”
“Eeyup,” Macintosh said. “So anything interesting happen to you lately?”
Twilight hummed. “Well, Applebloom stopped by the library after school asking for help with her math homework."
"Sorry about that," Macintosh said. He dropped his brush into the can of wood stain in order to inspect the underside of the chair. “Hope she wasn’t bothering ya while you were doing something important.”
"Oh no, it's not a bother at all," Twilight said quickly. "I just thought you'd like to know. She's actually really good at math, though it takes her a little longer to understand the concepts, but I find that she's more interested in the 'why's more than the 'how's."
Macintosh grunted. "That's good to hear. 'Bout time one of the Apple siblings got their head around advanced math. Could barely get past algebra, Applejack got as far as trig."
Rarity tilted her head. Was...was Macintosh opening up to Twilight? Rarity pulled up another chair and sat down. This she had to see.
Twilight chuckled. "Yeah, not a lot of ponies really like math. Were you a good student, Macintosh?"
"Nope," Macintosh said, tightening a screw with his hand. "Mom and dad used to get real worried about my grades. Hard as I tried, could never get any higher than a 'C'."
"Really?" Twilight said. "That's surprising considering you're so good at cooking and building things."
Macintosh shrugged and went back to painting. "I'm better at things that got to do with my hands. Heck, the only reason I learned to do all those things was 'cause of my poor grades. I remember one day grandpa Cedar took me aside and told me 'Boy, if a pony ain't got brains and he ain't got skills, then he ain't got a damn living.' That's when he taught me carpentry. Then my dad taught me construction. My mom taught me farmwork, and Granny Smith taught me how to cook."
"Oh," Twilight said. She stared at her feet for a moment before looking up at Macintosh again. "Well I have brains and not a lot of skills, so I guess we're even." She smiled, and Macintosh returned it, yet an awkward silence still developed.
Twilight's eyes darted around the room. Rarity knew that look, she had seen it dozens of times before. It was the desperate search a pony undertook to find a change in subject. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Twilight found her next topic, much to Rarity's dismay.
"So what's it like having Rarity help you on the farm?"
Rarity cringed, a small, tiny, minuscule part of her afraid of what he might say.
"Fun," Macintosh said, and Rarity's jaw opened slack. "Couldn't work with her the past few days, but Applejack told me she's really surprised at how well she's doing. Even after giving her all my chores."
Twilight chuckled. "I'm sure Applejack didn't think she would last this long."
"Eeyup, she actually made a bet with me that Rarity would give up by the first day. Made a nice twenty bits on it. Got another twenty comin' my way if Rarity pulls through for the whole month."
"You bet on how long I would last on the farm?" Rarity asked. "And you bet that I would last the entire month?" A hodgepodge of anger and flattery boiled in her gut. On the one hand, as soon as she saw Applejack again she would surely give the farm mare a piece of her mind. On the other hand, she hadn’t expected Macintosh to have so much confidence in her. "I thought you would have bet a week at most."
Macintosh finished staining the chair and wiped his hands on his jeans. "You might be frilly and dainty, Rarity, but you're also an Element of Harmony. Didn't think you would be this good at it, but I knew for sure you'd handle the whole month all right."
Rarity shot to her feet and took a deep breath. "Well why didn't you say that yesterday or the day before or the day before or any of the other days since I started working here?" Rarity asked. “I would have loved for you to tell me that when my whole body felt like a rug burn.”
"You never asked," Macintosh said.
"Oh I never asked, indeed," Rarity spat. "How can you stand there going on and on with, 'Oh, Rarity can do it without a problem', 'Oh, Rarity is so dainty yet tough', 'Oh Rarity is so fun to work with'," Rarity puffed out her chest, flexed her arms like a strongpony circus attraction, and stomped in place to properly invoke Macintosh's mannerisms. "When you've made it quite clear time and time again that you love nothing more than to frustrate and annoy me?"
Macintosh tilted his head. "I annoy you?"
"Don't play dumb!" Rarity pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Not two days ago I offered to mend your shirt, and you refused. Who refuses to have their shirt fixed!?"
"Rarity, wait," Twilight stood and rubbed Rarity's back in an attempt to calm her down. "I'm sure Macintosh had a good reason. Did you even ask him what that reason might be?"
"I didn't need to ask him," Rarity grabbed Twilight's shoulders and shook her. "I already know he's just doing it to frustrate me. Look, look! He's even wearing it now just to parade it's flaw in front of me. Do you know how poorly that tear reflects on me? On my workmanship?"
"I didn't do it to frustrate ya," Macintosh said, and Rarity stopped shaking Twilight to listen. Macintosh grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted up the torn part to his chest in order to see it better. "The reason I didn't want you to fix it was..." Macintosh sighed, looked away, and dropped the torn fabric. He showed his back to them and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's a little embarrassing," he admitted.
"Spill," Rarity urged, letting go of Twilight and taking a step closer to Macintosh.
"It's, uh, it's been a long time since someone gave me a shirt as a gift," Macintosh said, his back still turned to them. "Even longer since someone gave me a shirt I couldn't tear apart. I...really liked it...a lot." He finally turned to face Rarity, but didn't look her directly in the eyes. Rarity wasn't certain if it wasn't just a shadow across his face, but his cheeks looked much darker than usual.
"But you, well," Macintosh continued. "You probably make hundreds of shirts like this a week. It probably wasn't all that big a deal for you to give me one, and I was okay with that. But then it had that loose strand, then it became a tear...well, I figured even if it was a bad thing, that sort of mistake made this shirt special to you too." Macintosh sighed and looked down. "After all, a big ol' blunder like this in one of your shirts is a real...rarity."
The air inside the barn thinned itself free of motion and sound for several seconds. Slowly, Macintosh inched his chin up to make eye contact with Rarity, and Rarity glared back. His face was stoic as always, for about two seconds, then the facade slowly crumbled, and the corners of his mouth raised in a wrinkled smile.
A muffled snicker escaped from Mac's tightly sealed lips, and Rarity clenched her hands into fists.
"You just like annoying me, don’t you?"
"I prefer the word 'teasing'," Macintosh said.
"Big Macintosh!" With a growl, Rarity dove for Mac's neck.
Thankfully, Twilight managed to magic them apart before any of her precious furniture could be destroyed. Twilight forced Rarity and Macintosh to sit on the floor a few feet across from each other.
"It's true...I didn’t want to believe it, but it’s true," Rarity groaned with her head in her hands.
"I don't mean to,” Macintosh said, “you just make it so dang easy. For example, did you check to see if that chair you sat on was dry."
Rarity tensed and slowly brought her hand to her backside. No, the chair had definitely not been dry.
"But it ain't like I wasn't telling the truth before," Macintosh continued quietly. "That really is the reason why I didn't want ya to fix my shirt."
Rarity glared at him, but found no sign of dishonesty. She sighed and cupped a cheek with her hand. "Honestly, Macintosh, what a silly reason. Do you think I mass produce shirts and pants? I don't. I make each one individually in order to make sure they not only fit a pony's body but a pony's personality as well. That plaid shirt, with all those different shades of red, it's already special, Macintosh, because it represents what I think of you."
Macintosh smiled and chuckled. "I really am impressed with ya, to just come to the farm and commit a month to it. Did you expect it to be so tough?"
Rarity shrugged. "I knew it would be, but not to what extent. It didn't matter, anyway. I could have languished over whether I was strong enough or tough enough to do it, but then I wouldn't be doing what I wanted to do. Beside, if it's for my passion, then I'll gladly suffer anything."
Macintosh blinked, and considered her like a pony might consider a piece of fine art.
"Even Macintosh's teasing?" Twilight asked with a smile as she sat on the floor with them.
"Yes, even that, I suppose."
"Sorry," Macintosh said with a sheepish smile.
"You can make it up to me by fetching me and Twilight a couple bottles of cider," Rarity said with a smirk. "Chop chop, we're waiting."
Macintosh chuckled and stood. "Eeyup."
Applejack had her feet up on the kitchen table, figuring out what she would do with her free time today. None of her friends had invited her to anything, so her night was wide open. She supposed she could tuck in for the night and read a book. That sounded nice. Just as she stood to carry out her plans, Macintosh entered the kitchen. He went to the fridge and took out three bottle of cider.
"What're you doing, big brother?" Applejack asked.
"Fetching cider for me, Twilight, and Rarity," Macintosh said. He reached into the fridge and took out a fourth bottle. "Wanna join us."
"Ain't gotta ask me twice," Applejack said with a smile. Macintosh returned it and tossed her a bottle, and she deftly caught it by the neck with just one hand. She started to head for the front door when Macintosh placed a hand on her shoulder. Applejack looked up at her brother with a raised eyebrow.
"The draft horse races," Macintosh said. "This is the year."
Applejack smiled. "Well look at you, finally grew a pair?"
Macintosh shrugged and passed his sister to get to the front door. "Guess you could say I got a bit of inspiration." He opened the door for her, and Applejack didn’t hesitate to step outside. “Oh, almost forgot, I told Rarity about the bet we made. I’m sure she’s gonna be real happy to talk to ya.”
Applejack spun around and glared at her older brother. “You did what !?”
3. The Trouble With Pegasi
Some ponies looked good drenched in sweat. But not just any sweat. The hard-won sweat that came from a singular desire to surpass their body's limits. The kind of sweat that came with gritted teeth and tense muscles. The kind that only came when a pony teetered on the edge of collapse. As Rainbow Dash peered down from her cloud a few feet above Sweet Apple Acres, hand over her eyes to block the light of the rising sun, she decided that Macintosh was one of those ponies.
Steam rose off his body into the cold morning air, and more came from every exhale. A leather harness wrapped around Mac's chest, and a heavy chain attached the harness to a sled built of steel beams and rebar that was as long as he was tall and half as wide. Several thick pieces of corded rope strapped dozens of heavy sheets of iron to the sled. Mac dragged the sled up one of the many hills on the farm, his posture low, the sled leaving deep furrows wherever he dragged it.
Who knew his eyes could look so intense? It was a welcome change from Mac's usual stoic, half-lidded eyes. Sure, Rainbow Dash had seen him get serious before, but she never saw him look so...hungry. It was the same look Spitfire had when she spotted the finish line a few dozen feet away. An intense stare that welled with primal desire.
And it looked like Rainbow Dash wasn't the only one enjoying the show. On the Apple family's porch, Rarity look on, her elbow on the railing as her hand supported her chin. Yeah, Rainbow Dash recognized that look too. That bit lip and that glazed over, fifty-yard gaze she always had when she was having one of those romantic daydreams about another pony. Of course, they never did turn out well, did they? The Grand Galloping Gala incident came to the forefront of Rainbow Dash's mind, and a snicker sneaked past her lips.
Well then, she couldn't just leave this perfect opportunity for a bit of teasing go to waste, now could she? With a lazy roll, Rainbow Dash fell from her cloud and unfurled her wings to float down to earth right beside the farmstead stairs. Rarity, so engrossed in her daydream, didn't even notice her. Not even when Dash walked up those steps and leaned on the railing right beside Rarity, did the unicorn give Dash so much as a glance.
Now, while sharing Rarity's vantage point, there was no mistaking who her eyes followed. The view looked even nicer from the railing. In junior speedsters they would always tell Dash and the other students to fall on their butt in order to cushion a fall. If Macintosh did that, he would probably break the ground into a million little pieces.
"Pretty unfair how his jeans are so low you can see the top of his cutie mark," Rainbow Dash said.
"Oh, don't get me star–" Rarity stopped midsentence, acutely aware of her surroundings all of a sudden. She whipped her head to Rainbow Dash with a scowl and hot cheeks. "Dash! Just what are you doing here?"
"Hangin' out," Rainbow Dash said with a lazy shrug, her eyes never leaving the drops of sweat collecting and then dripping from Macintosh's chin. "Gotta hand it to ya, Rarity, I never thought you'd be the kind to have sexy thoughts about Mac. Thought you went more for those," Rainbow Dash fanned the air as she thought of the right words, "wealthy, pretty-boy, romantic types."
The red on Rarity's cheeks deepened. "I was not fantasizing about Big Macintosh." Then, in a whisper, "And if we must talk about him can we please lower our voices? The last thing I want is for Applejack to hear us and get angry."
"Angry? What, for thinking about Big Macintosh naked?"
"Eeyup."
Rainbow Dash and Rarity inched their heads to look over their shoulders. Applejack stood in the front doorway, a large basket of crumpled laundry in her arms.
"You’re policing our thoughts now?" Rainbow Dash asked. She turned fully around so her back now leaned against the railway.
"Ain't no strand off my tail what you think about," Applejack said. "Heck, if you wanna start something romantic with Mac, then I'd actually be pretty happy. But if you go behind my back Ah'll–"
"I know, I know," Dash said. "You'll dropkick me to the moon."
"Right, so why don't you go ogle someone else's brother?" Applejack said, heading down the stairs. "Like Twilight's."
"Shining Armor?" Rainbow Dash said with a smirk. "No way, he's way too much of a goody-two-shoes."
Applejack stared at Rainbow Dash with half-lidded eyes. "Ya do realize you're an Element of Harmony, right? Yer way more of a goody-two-shoes than he is."
"I think what Rainbow Dash means is that he's much too...'by the book'," Rarity offered. "His physique is top notch but he seems a bit uptight."
Applejack rolled her eyes. "Well then what about Flu–"
"It's too bad no one else in our group has a brother," Rainbow Dash said.
"But Flutt–"
"Yes, quite a shame. Such a shame," Rarity agreed with a solemn nod.
"Why're you so hung up on your brother's love life anyway?" Rainbow Dash asked, turning the brunt of the conversation against Applejack. "You, uh, got some taboo desires to share with us or something?"
Applejack frowned. "The only 'taboo desire' I got is the desire to slug ya across the face. Now if yer done lookin' at my brother like a starving dog at a bone, you can just fly along home."
Rainbow Dash clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. "Jeez, Mac isn't even my type." She looked over at Macintosh again. Still, if she had never met Mac before today, and him pulling that sled was the first time she saw him. She'd probably say he was pretty...cool, or something like that. "What's he doing anyway?"
"Training for the draft races," Applejack said.
"Huh, really?" Rainbow Dash looked over at Mac again. He certainly had the strength to do the sled races, but she never really thought of him as the competitive type. With that said, however, she couldn't help but notice how slowly he pulled the sled. Could he really win a race, even a race of strength, with that sorry speed?
An idea started to form in Dash's head. An idea shaped by her competitive spirit and made solid by a strange curiosity. What was going through that big lug's mind when he pulled that sled behind him? What made his face go all intense like that?
"He looks like he's having a bit of trouble," Rainbow Dash said. "You know, since I'm such an awesome friend and athlete, maybe I should help him out a little. Give him a little coaching or something."
Rarity and Applejack stared at her. Seconds passed without a word, and the awkward silence made even Rainbow Dash feel a little bit uncomfortable. She looked back and forth between her two friends.
"What?"
Rather than answer her, Rarity and Applejack exchanged a look. Rainbow Dash didn't really understand what the look meant, she only knew that she didn't like it one bit.
"Ah ain't so sure whether he'll want your help," Applejack said.
"Of course he will," Rainbow Dash said. "Everyone knows he has a huge crush on me."
"Beg pardon?" Applejack said.
"He'll probably say 'yes' just to be around me," Rainbow Dash said with a smirk.
"Well, it wouldn't hurt to ask," Rarity said. After a quick jump down the porch steps, Rarity was beside Applejack and hurriedly picked up the basket of dirty laundry. "Here Applejack, let me help you with that." They headed off toward the barn where the washing machine waited. As their boots kicked up dust, Rainbow Dash could swear she heard Applejack say something about 'brown-nosing' and 'competition'.
Dash shrugged off the pair's strange behavior. Honestly, it wasn't as if this was the first time Rarity or Applejack did something weird. Usually it was for some silly reason anyway, so why sweat? After that bit of self-assurance, Rainbow Dash leapt over the railing and took to the air. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it right. She flew over to him, alighting on the sled.
Despite the added weight, Macintosh didn't stop pulling. He hardly even noticed his new passenger. Rainbow Dash tapped her foot hard against the sled, hard enough to make a distinct ring on the metal, but neither the sound nor vibration of iron and steel was enough to distract Macintosh. Okay, now she was getting a little ticked. Here she was willing to give the guy a sure shot at winning and in return he was ruining her super cool entrance. Looks like she would have to use a direct approach.
"Hey Big Mac, turn around!" Dash called out, but still he kept his focus straight ahead. Okay, then a more direct approach. With a great flap of her wings Rainbow Dash jumped onto Mac's shoulders, balancing precariously on his muscles like a hawk on the face of a cliff.
Macintosh froze, and Dash kept perfect balance as he rose to stand tall and straight. His hand rose up to shield his eyes from the sun as he tilted his head up. The look in his eyes had relaxed back to their usual half-lidded state.
"Today's your lucky day, Mac," Dash said with a grin as she pointed to his face. "Because I'm so cool and nice, I decided to help you out with your racing thing. There's no way you'll lose with me training you." She hopped off and landed next to Mac, her back to him, her eyes focused on the horizon obscured by apple trees. "First thing we do is a hundred push-ups, a hundred squats, a hundred sit-ups, and a five mile run. After that warm up, we can start on the real training and work on building up your strength."
No response came from the draft pony, not even his usual vocabulary. Confused, Rainbow Dash turned around. Macintosh's face was rapt in befuddlement and tilted slightly to one side. Dash's body posture deflated. Her shoulders sunk and she hung her head. This would be so much cooler if she didn't have to explain it.
"I was watching you pull the sled, and I think I can help you win the draft races. Train you, give you tips, that kind of stuff. You know, like a coach."
"Nope."
"What? What do you mean 'nope'?" Rainbow Dash scoffed. "Don't you wanna win?"
"Eeyup," he said.
"Then you need me!"
"Nope," Big Macintosh said and he pulled the sled past her, continuing up the hill.
Dash clenched her fists. "Yeah you do! If you really think you can win pulling that sled at that speed, then you're even dumber than you look."
Macintosh stopped and looked over his shoulder. His eyes remained completely stoic. His calm demeanor only made Rainbow Dash angrier. Damn it, couldn't that stupid stallion show some emotion? If he sneered, or scowled, or yelled, at least she could read him. At least she could have the satisfaction of knowing she got under his skin. When he remained calm like that, even when faced with the coolest, angriest pegasus in Equestria, it made her feel like her anger wasn't even worth a damn thing.
Macintosh undid his harness and bundled it into his right hand. Without so much as a grunt he hauled the sled toward the barn with much more speed than Rainbow Dash ever saw him reach with the harness around his chest. In fact, his face and posture made it seem like he was pulling at a feather on a string.
"Hey!" Rainbow Dash yelled at him. "What's the big idea? I thought you were having trouble pulling that thing."
Macintosh stopped and looked over his shoulder. "I was."
"Then why's it so easy for you now?" Rainbow Dash asked.
Macintosh continued dragging the sled. "I ain't pullin' it."
Rainbow Dash grit her teeth. "Are you kidding me? That doesn't make any sense." She crossed her arms over her chest and spat. "You really do need me to coach you."
Macintosh opened his mouth to say something, but at the last moment decided against it. He continued on his way to the barn.
"Hey! I know you were gonna say something, so say it," Rainbow Dash called out. "I can take it."
He ignored her. Rainbow Dash stomped the ground and twisted her foot back and forth as if squishing a small bug. With a huff and ruffled feathers, Rainbow Dash headed back the way she came. She was glad that she didn't have to suffer through Applejack's 'I told you so' smirk.
"Oh my goodness, they're so adorable," Rarity squealed as she looked at the dozen or so suckling piglets. Their mother lay on her side in a section of the pen partitioned by horizontal steel bars. While there was plenty of room for the piglets to reach their mother's teats, the little things couldn't slip through. Rarity leaned against the gate along with Fluttershy and Big Macintosh. Fluttershy unlocked the gate to get inside the pen, but Rarity quickly stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
"Oh wait, sweetie," Rarity said. "Do you think perhaps I could pick up the piglets?"
Fluttershy lowered her head, unsure (as she usually was). She looked over at Macintosh, and he gave her a nod.
"Okay," Fluttershy said, "just be careful. You need to approach them slowly and pick them up gently."
"Of course, of course!" Rarity said with a grin. She handed her the notebook and stepped inside. The piglets had finished eating and, like all babies, once full they cuddled together for a nap. Those beady black eyes and the way they buried their little noses under each other made Rarity's heart melt. She tiptoed to the pile of hay where they made their bed, reached down with both hands, and grabbed one of the bigger ones.
It screamed bloody murder at Rarity's touch and thrashed violently in her hands. With a yelp, Rarity dropped the piglet and jumped back. Awoken by the distressed screaming, the other piglets ran about in a panic. The entire pig pen soon filled with snorts, grunts, and screams, and Rarity had to cover her ears. Thankfully, with a little help from Fluttershy, the noise died down, and the piglets slept once again.
"What happened?" Rarity asked. "I was as gentle as I could be."
"Um, I think you scared them," Fluttershy said. "Try nudging them awake first."
Rarity nodded and tried again. This time she made sure the piglet was well aware of her before picking it up. While it still struggled to get free, there were no high pitched squeals. Once she handed the piglet to Fluttershy, it relaxed completely. Rarity supposed some ponies were just naturally better with animals.
Fluttershy placed the piglet on a mechanical scale, and Macintosh wrote down its weight and defining features. Once done, Fluttershy placed the piglet back inside the pen, and the cycle continued all over again. Rarity was quite happy with her position, despite the occasional squeal. It gave her a chance to take notice of Fluttershy and Big Macintosh as they weighed the piglets together.
Of all the Elements of Harmony (sans Applejack, of course), Fluttershy knew Macintosh the best. They had been acquaintances before the Elements of Harmony were even a daily fact of life. Not to mention that they made such an attractive couple. Both had physiques that many would find very...enviable, including Rarity on one of her not-so-fabulous days. And both were quite averse to speaking, though their aversion stemmed from two very different places. Not to mention they had a shared interest in animals. Even now, they both looked over the piglet with an exacting eye, looking for any sign of ill health. Rarity could just imagine them running a little farm out in the country. Fluttershy would feed and care for the animals while Macintosh did the heavy labor, and at night, well...
"Um, Rarity, are you okay?" Fluttershy asked.
Rarity blinked and came back into the moment. "What?"
"You've been staring off into space for a whole minute," Fluttershy said.
"Silly me," Rarity said with a forced chuckle, "I must have been daydreaming. How many more piglets are left?"
Fluttershy pointed to the smallest piglet set a little apart from the others, and Rarity's heart leapt into her throat. It was just so incredibly tiny and delicate and cute and it's hooves were absolutely minuscule. Rarity didn't hesitate to scoop it up in her hand, and to her absolute delight it didn't squirm or scream. All it did was nuzzle and bury its nose in her curled palm where it fit quite easily.
"Oh my goodness, she's so precious!" Rarity said in an excited whisper. "Look at her, she actually likes me. I know! I'll give her a name." She held up the piglet and gazed into its eyes. "I'll call you Cotton. Isn't that a wonderful name? Well, of course it is. It came from me, didn't it?"
"Rarity...can I see her?" Fluttershy asked as she held out her arms. Rarity wondered why she looked so worried. With great care she gave Fluttershy the piglet, and Fluttershy cradled it in her arms. She placed a hand against its chest, and felt around its stomach. Fluttershy's face fell as she examined the piglet. "Rarity I...don't think Cotton is doing well."
"What?" Rarity quickly went to get a closer look. She gingerly traced a finger down the piglet back and for the first time realized how cold it felt to the touch. "What's wrong, is she sick?"
"I don't think so," Fluttershy said, "but I can't really tell what's wrong with the poor dear."
"Ain't nothing wrong," Macintosh said. He shut his notebook and stood up. "Just a runt is all. Born weak, probably didn't get enough milk for whatever reason, got rejected by its mama. Best to just put it out of its misery and be done with it."
"Absolutely not," Rarity said. She took the piglet from Fluttershy and held it close to her chest. "Macintosh, how can you be so cruel? We should at least try to care it back to health. It deserves that much."
Macintosh sighed and ran a hand through his mane. "If you want to help it so bad, then make sure to keep it warm while I go get the milk replacer."
Macintosh left the pens, and Rarity kept the piglet close to her in order to give it much needed heat.
"Can you believe him?" Rarity grumbled half to Cotton and half to Fluttershy. "I never expected him to think so little of animals."
Fluttershy stared at the door where Macintosh took his exit. "He's probably seen this a lot, I think," she said. "Maybe he just doesn't want to get attached?"
"Well honestly your guess is as good as mine," Rarity said. “All I know is that there’s no way I’m ever leaving Cotton alone with him. The last thing I need is for Cotton to become an unlucky Wilbur.”
It didn't take long at all for Macintosh to come back with a bottle of warm milk. He gave the bottle to Rarity, and Cotton drank the formula greedily.
"Oh good, it still has an appetite," Fluttershy said.
"See?" Rarity told Macintosh. "It still has an appetite, and you wanted to kill it."
Macintosh didn't say anything and only gave Fluttershy a large tin can with a picture of a cartoon pig on it. "Make sure you feed it every three hours." He gave Rarity one last, unreadable look before taking leave once again. Probably to finish the rest of his chores.
Rarity smiled and looked down at Cotton as she drank, but her face quickly fell as she realized that she was completely unprepared to care for a little piglet. Where would she even find time to feed her every three hours? Rarity had a mountain of chores to do, and where would she even keep a piglet between feedings? In a cold pen? Would the Apple family allow pigs in the house?
"It's okay, Rarity. I'll help you take care of it," Fluttershy said, reading the panic in Rarity's face.
"Oh thank you, thank you," Rarity said with a grateful hug that squeezed the piglet between them. Cotton finished her bottle just as Rarity released Fluttershy. "If you could just take care of her for the day, I would be so grateful. Bring her back around sunset, I'll have all my chores done by then and be able to take her off your hands." Without waiting for Fluttershy's reply, she handed the piglet to her.
"Oh, um, okay," Fluttershy said, shuffling to cradle the piglet while holding the large can in her dainty hands. "I'll, uh...do that."
"Wonderful, I'll see you then," Rarity waved goodbye as she exited the pens to start her chores. Thank goodness for friends like Fluttershy.
Rainbow Dash grumbled at the counter in Sugarcube Corner as if it had rejected her and not Macintosh, but it only made her angrier. Even a stupid laminate countertop would know well enough to take her up on free training. She tried not to think about it too much, heck, that was the reason she was in Sugarcube Corner to begin with, but not even a tasty jelly-filled donut could lift her spirits. Her motivation had grown from simple curiosity. Now, Dash wanted to coach that idiot because of curiosity, pride, and spite.
Dash stared at the back wall while Mrs. Cake busied herself with mixing batter, giving Dash all the space and silence she needed. Unfortunately, Pinkie had the day off today and was busy planning a birthday party, as usual.
The batter became a frosted cake by the time Mrs. Cake's maternal disposition no longer allowed her to stand idly by while Dash sulked. She hurried through the back door and into the kitchen. When she returned, it was with a plate of chocolate covered eclairs that she swept down in front of Rainbow Dash.
"Is there something the matter dear?" Mrs. Cake asked.
The plate of eclairs easily tempted Rainbow Dash. "Well..." She stuffed an eclair into her mouth, but her agitation made the chocolate stale in her mouth. She scowled at the inconvenience that stupid red stallion put her through. "It's just this thing with Big Macintosh. He's doing this draft race or something, but he's really bad at it. I offered to help, but he didn't want it." Rainbow Dash blew a tuft of rainbow hair away from her eyes. "Usually I’d just call him an idiot and forget about it, but I got this feeling that he thinks me coaching him will make him lose. I gotta prove him wrong, you know?"
"The draft horse races?" Mrs. Cake gave Dash a quizzical look. "I'm sorry, dearie, but aren't you a stunt pony? That's a little different than a draft pony, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but I know all about the training pro athletes do to get stronger. A lot more than a lot of ponies, I bet. Plus, the ponies that do know all about that stuff usually charge a hundred bits an hour or more, and I'm doing it for free. Besides, it's literally nothing but pulling a sled uphill, how hard can it be?"
Mrs. Cake chuckled. "Oh, that's not the first time I've heard that. Did you know that I was a draft pony once upon a time?"
"You were a draft pony?" Rainbow Dash gawked, mouth open. She quickly caught herself and shook her head to regain composure. "But you're, I mean, I can't really imagine..." Rainbow Dash trailed off, unwilling to dig her grave any deeper. She wanted to be as close to the sky as possible.
"It was a long time ago," Mrs. Cake said with a gentle smile. She went to a shelf of cookbooks against the wall, and took out a photo album hidden there. She set it on the counter and flipped through until she was a little toward the back. There, spread amongst the two pages, were several pictures of a very muscular Mrs. Cake.
Rainbow Dash's jaw went slack once again as she saw what looked like Mrs. Cake's face slapped onto Big Macintosh's build. Dash raised her head to look at the Mrs. Cake of the here and now, and at her more motherly frame.
"I...what happened?"
Mrs. Cake shrugged as she flipped through the book to look at more pictures. She smiled softly in nostalgia. "Nothing exciting. I retired, met a cute baker who made the best coffee cake I ever tasted, got married, and had children. Draft racing is for younger ponies really. Any older ponies that want to stay with the sport usually go into coaching or organizing local races." Mrs. Cake closed the book and tenderly put it back amidst the cookbooks.
"I'm surprised Big Macintosh is racing again," Mrs. Cake continued. "Especially after what happened in his last race."
"What happened?" Dash asked.
"He quit."
"He quit!?"
Mrs. Cake nodded. "He was eligible for the half-ton race while he was still in the junior division, first pony to ever do it, but he quit right after the race started. I still remember it. The starting gates opened, Macintosh pulled his sled right up to the start of the first hill, he looked up at it, and then dropped his chains and left the course. He didn't say a word, he didn't even look upset."
"Why?"
"I'm not sure," Mrs. Cake said as she sifted flour into a new bowl. "It's still a pretty big mystery in the draft race circles. Gosh, you should hear some of the rumors."
Rainbow Dash tapped the counter in thought. "Maybe if I find out why he quit, I could use it to convince him to let me train him," Rainbow Dash mused more to herself than to Mrs. Cake. "That’s it! I’ll confront him about it." She stood up fully intending to fly to Sweet Apple Acres, but Mrs. Cake's voice stopped her.
"Actually dear, knowing Macintosh, I think you’d have better luck being honest with him,” she said.
“Honest?” Rainbow Dash repeated.
“Yes, just explain to him why you would make a good coach.”
Rainbow Dash rubbed her chin. Well, that certainly would be much easier to do than talk to Mac about why he quit.
“And maybe you should wait until tomorrow?" Mrs, Cake added. "It's a bit late for visits, isn't it?"
Rainbow Dash looked out the window at the sleepy town drenched in red and orange light. Mrs. Cake had a point. Big Macintosh and Applejack would be exhausted at the end of the day, and their patience would surely be wearing thin. Okay, first thing tomorrow morning she would talk to Mac again, and this time she’ll really sell him on the idea.
Yeah, she’d show him just what he was missing out on.
Fluttershy's humble cabin stood only a short walk away from Sweet Apple Acres, nestled amongst the edge of the woods. There beneath the boughs of the forest, Fluttershy could count on seeing hundreds of little critters in their natural home. Every so often she would find an animal in need of care, but that was a rather rare occurrence. At least, rarer than many ponies would think.
Fluttershy wasn't a vet, she didn't have the schooling nor the certification. She more closely resembled something between a biologist and ecologist. A pony that specialized in the local fauna and flora, their behavior, their interactions with the environment, and (what ponies knew her most for) their care. Knowing all this, ponies such as her friends and the Apples often trusted her with their animals, a trust that Fluttershy did not take lightly.
The first thing Fluttershy did upon entering her home was make a small nest of blankets for the piglet (pegasi were good at building nests, after all). She wrote down the appropriate feeding times on her day's schedule pinned on the wall, and finally started making a small salad for her lunch. She ate it in peace with the only disturbance a squeak or oink from the piglet every few minutes or so. Luckily, she didn't have any other animals in her care that day, so she could focus all her attention on little Cotton.
The day passed by in quiet, just as Fluttershy preferred. She read, and when reading became too passive even for her liking, she wrote in a notebook a story she had busied herself with for the last few years. And between all this, she made sure to feed the piglet on time. During the second feeding she stared at it, thinking. She didn't know if it would live. It's appetite seemed healthy enough, but the most deciding factor over its life was whether it drank colostrum, a mother's first milk that strengthened a baby's immune system enough to ward off infection. Without that...well...
The thought of the piglet's death brought up painful memories. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen death before. Even when Angel died, she managed to only cry during her long bout of isolation in her room during the grieving period. But it still hurt, even now, to think about his death, or the death of any animal. It didn't matter whether they lived a long life like Angel, or were a newborn on the brink of death.
Fluttershy yawned as Cotton finished the last drops of milk. The sunbeams filtering through the window became duller and redder as the day wore on. Almost time, already. Two feedings and not one drop wasted, not bad at all. Cotton seemed more alert too, actually keeping her eyes open to look around for a few minutes. She squirmed out of the nest of blankets and explored the couch cushions, burying her nose between them like she was digging for truffles. She explored for several more minutes before she retreated to the warm nest. Fluttershy smiled, rolled her shoulders, and bundled up Cotton in a small yet thick blanket.
Cradled in her arms, Cotton didn't fidget at all as Fluttershy picked her up along with a tote bag carrying the milk replacer. The sun had already set by the time she headed to Sweet Apple Acres to drop her off. Fluttershy had spent too long watching Cotton play. On the way, she wondered whether Rarity was prepared to take care of Cotton's feedings through the night. Fluttershy looked at the bag hanging off her shoulder, at the can of formula inside. She shook her head to dispel the forming doubts. Of course Rarity would be fine. She had experience taking care of Sweetie Belle and her cat Opalescence, plus she had a very deep sense of responsibility. Cotton would be in good hands.
Fluttershy knocked on the door before entering the homestead. Years ago she had received an open invitation to come in whenever she pleased, and it was only a few months ago that Fluttershy finally built up the courage to do just that.
The Apple family were famous among the ponies of Ponyville for their weekend dinners, and every pony in town hoped to receive one of the coveted invites. However, it was only because the Apple family took Sunday off that the meal was so extravagant. The dinners during the week were a different story altogether. Each member started and ended their chores at different times, and so it was much harder for them to coordinate a meal where they all sat down. Perhaps the only other time they put in the effort was when they had guests.
So when Fluttershy entered the kitchen, a large meal with rambunctious ponies didn't greet her. Rather, Fluttershy happened upon the much quieter scene of Macintosh eating a sandwich. The rest of the family was nowhere to be found, not in the living room enjoying the fireplace, nor in the den reading or playing board games.
"Where is everyone?" Fluttershy asked.
"Sleeping," Macintosh said. "Applejack's got market duty tomorrow, Granny Smith always goes to bed this early, Applebloom's at a sleepover. Last time I saw Rarity she was out cold."
"Oh," Fluttershy said, her eyes going back to the sandwich, eaten down to one more bite's worth. "You two didn't...uh..."
Macintosh laughed, his hand quickly going to his mouth to cover the sandwich inside. He swallowed before speaking. "Rarity wishes," he said with a smirk. He polished off the last bit, and stood to take his dish to the sink. "Ain't really my type. Besides," Macintosh stepped up to her, hands on his hips and gave her a teasing grin, "wouldn't want to make ya jealous."
Fluttershy sighed and reached out to flick his snout. It only managed to make his grin wider. Some things never changed.
"Rarity must be working very hard on the farm," Fluttershy said, holding back another sigh. "I guess I'll take care of Cotton tonight. Goodnight, Macintosh." Fluttershy turned and headed back to the front door, but a tug on her tail stopped her.
"Just leave her here," Macintosh said, releasing her tail. "I'll take care of her."
Fluttershy tilted her head. "I thought you didn't want anything to do with Cotton."
"I ain't gonna let you take care of it all by yourself. Go get some sleep. Ain't like it's the first time I've done this, you know," Mac said.
"I know," Fluttershy said, "but you don't have to worry about me, really. I took a nap at home, so it really isn't a bother for me to stay up all night." It was a lie, something that Fluttershy wasn't proud of, but she often found them useful when it came to minimizing how much her friends worried about her.
Macintosh chuckled. "Ain't no point lying to me. I already know your tell."
Fluttershy frowned. She had forgotten how easily he could see right through her. It wasn't too annoying, however. She could do the same to him. She knew, deep down, that Macintosh would do everything in his power to care for the piglet, which was why she couldn't allow him to do it by himself. He already had a full schedule of labor tomorrow, there was no sense in letting him stay up all night.
"Why don't we take shifts?" Fluttershy said, a plan, fully-formed, springing into her mind. "I'll take the first shift, so go sleep and I'll wake you up when it's your turn."
"We both know you ain't gonna wake me up," Macintosh said with a smirk. "So why don't we stay up together, first one to fall asleep loses. I'll start up the fireplace."
Fluttershy sighed as Macintosh headed to the living room. The thought of picking him up and throwing him into his room crossed her mind, but he would probably enjoy it. Plus she didn't think she could handle the awkwardness of being semi-alone with Big Macintosh in his room so late at night. So instead, she slinked into the living room.
A fire already roared in the fireplace by the time she entered, and Macintosh had his back to her as he looked through the Apple family's bookshelves. He picked out a rather thin book, and sat down on the couch. Winona slept in front of the fireplace, and the old dog gave no notice to either ponies.
"Make yourself comfortable," he told her, patting the seat beside him. Fluttershy nodded and sat next to him. She set her bag down on the floor, and cradled Cotton in both hands. The warmth of the fireplace, as well as the heat coming from Macintosh himself, made her feel quite cozy, especially after coming in from the chilly air outside.
"Mind if I hold 'er?" Macintosh asked, holding out his arms. Fluttershy didn't hesitate handing the piglet over, and Big Macintosh cradled Cotton with a gentleness that belied his large form. Fluttershy smiled at the sight; a sight she hadn't seen for many years.
"I remember when you would bring me a runt every spring and fall," Fluttershy said. "You always looked so worried."
Macintosh didn't say anything for a long while. He stared down at Cotton and gently rubbed her cheek with his finger. "Guess you could say I got an affinity for 'em."
“I was surprised when Applejack told me you were doing the draft races again,” Fluttershy said. “Have you...gotten better?”
“I honestly thought I did,” Macintosh said with a sigh. “But it’s the same. Soon as I put on that harness, my strength’s just gone.” Macintosh stared at his free hand and clenched it into a fist. “It’s like nothing’s changed in twelve years. I don’t know what to do.”
“Applejack also told me that Rainbow Dash wanted to coach you, but you said no.” Fluttershy drummed her fingers on her knees nervously. “I think...I think you should reconsider.” Macintosh tilted his head, quietly urging her to explain her reasoning. Fluttershy took a deep breath and continued. “I think she could help you, in her own Rainbow Dash way.”
Macintosh hummed in thought. “I’m willin’ to bet the farm she’s gonna come back to ask me again. If she does, and she comes back humble and honest, then I’ll consider it. But right now, I don’t think she cares about me or the sport. It’s like she thinks it’s just another way for her to show off.”
“That’s fair,” Fluttershy said. “But I don’t think Rainbow Dash means to give you that impression.”
Macintosh nodded, and the two fell into silence for a long time. Fluttershy didn't mind, she was used to long bouts of quiet, and she knew Macintosh felt the same. Instead of speaking, they focused on the little piglet. The night wore on and soon it came time to feed Cotton. Fluttershy prepared the milk, and Macintosh handled the feeding. Fluttershy leaned against his shoulder and watched Cotton drink up.
"Gettin' sleepy?" Macintosh asked with a teasing smile.
Fluttershy frowned. "No." It was another lie. By now she would usually be in bed, and she had to admit that leaning against Macintosh felt incredibly comfortable. She resisted, however, and pushed against his arm and sat up straight. Of course, her movement didn't go unnoticed. Once Cotton finished drinking, Macintosh placed the bottle on the coffee table. The little piglet looked up at Macintosh, and their eyes met. The corner of Big Mac's mouth twitched upwards in a faint smile.
"Still awake, huh?" Macintosh said. Though he never took his eyes off the piglet, Fluttershy couldn't help but feel that his words were meant for her. "Maybe a lullaby'll help."
Most ponies forgot that Macintosh was a trained singer, and had obtained a bit of local fame from his work in the Pony Tones. For one fatal moment, Fluttershy was one of those ponies, and so she didn't have the good sense to stop his lullaby. In the morning, she would come to regret her lapse in judgement, but right now, as Macintosh sang the opening verses of 'Sweet Lullaby Acres', Fluttershy couldn't help but let the smooth, sweet tones weigh down her eyelids.
Rarity snapped her eyes open in a panic. She shot up to sit, and took a moment to take in the familiar sight of her temporary bedroom in Sweet Apple Acres. Rarity bolted out of bed. What time was it? Only the slightest glow at the horizon hinted at morning. When did she fall asleep? The last thing she remembered was waiting for Fluttershy while laying on the couch. Her legs had turned to jelly after a day of carting around and shoveling manure onto freshly tilled fields, and not even a hot shower could help ease the soreness.
She had only closed her eyes for a few seconds. When did she fall asleep? What happened to Fluttershy? Was Cotton alright? Rarity burst through her bedroom door only to find Fluttershy leaving Big Macintosh’s room, hair disheveled and clothes askew.
Rarity’s face flushed. “Did you and Macintosh, uh…”
Fluttershy glared at her, and Rarity could tell Fluttershy wanted utterly to say something sarcastic or snippy, but, held back by her kind heart, Fluttershy only managed a shake of her head. “Macintosh and I were taking care of Cotton during the night, and I fell asleep. He must have put me in his room since you were in the guest bedroom.”
“Where is Cotton, by the way?”
Fluttershy covered her mouth and spoke through a large yawn. “Still with Macintosh, I guess.”
“With Macintosh!?” Rarity cried. “How could you leave my precious Cotton with him?”
“Rarity, I’m absolutely sure Macintosh is taking good care of her,” Fluttershy said.
“All the same I’d be happier if Cotton was safely in my arms,” Rarity said. “I need to go find Macintosh.” She hurried down the stairs in search of the red stallion, Fluttershy following closely behind. Only Applejack could be found on the first floor, doing her morning stretches in the living room before she had to haul a cart full of goods to the Ponyville farmer’s market.
Rarity approached and waved at Applejack to get her attention. “Excuse me Applejack, do you know where--”
The front door slammed open, and Rainbow Dash stampeded in like a dozen bulls into half a dozen china shops. Dash stomped toward Applejack and slammed her hand onto the wooden coffee table.
“Hey AJ, where’s you’re dumbass brother?”
Applejack continued her stretches for a few seconds without a response. Once finished, she bent her neck, sending several pops and cracks into the air. “C’mon Dash, you still mad about Macintosh rejecting ya?”
Rarity turned to Fluttershy. “As a coach,” she clarified.
“I know,” Fluttershy said, clearly ungrateful.
“I’m mad that he was stupid enough to,” Rainbow Dash said. “So where is he?”
“Doing his morning training, Ah reckon,” Applejack said. “Probably just finishing up and putting his sled into the barn.”
Rainbow Dash wasted no time and bolted out the front door, and Rarity ran after her, eager to know exactly what Macintosh had done with her precious piglet while he busied himself with pulling that silly sled of his. Fluttershy followed along, perhaps because she had no idea what to do otherwise, though more likely that she also wanted to see Cotton’s condition.
Just as Applejack predicted, Big Macintosh sat on his sled just outside the barn, shirtless with his red coat damp with sweat. Rarity scanned the area, but found no sign of her piglet anywhere. The most terrible thoughts jumped into Rarity’s head. Thoughts of Macintosh having her little Cotton fried up and served with a side of eggs. She stepped up her pace and sprinted so fast that she even passed by Rainbow Dash (the pegasus would later insist that she wasn’t running at full speed, not even ten percent).
“Big Macintosh Apple!” Rarity stabbed her finger onto his chest. “I demand to know where Cotton is this instant.”
Big Macintosh looked up at her, and Rarity softened at the deep, dark bags beneath his eyes. It really did look as if he stayed up all night. His gaze fell at the grass that surrounded them. Bringing two fingers to his lips, he unleashed a sharp whistle into the air. Nothing happened for a moment, but soon Rarity noticed a shiver in the grass that came closer and closer. A trail of hoarse grunts and oinks followed, and little Cotton came up to Macintosh’s feet. He scooped her up, and if Cotton seemed small in Rarity’s hand then she looked absolutely minuscule in Macintosh’s. Rarity gasped at the rejuvenated piglet and took her in her arms.
“Damn thing pissed all over me,” Macintosh huffed. “Had to put my shirt in the laundry. She’s a lucky one, though, despite all. Wouldn’t be surprised if she became ‘Big Cotton’ in a year or two.”
Rarity held Cotton against her chest, and the little piglet squirmed to escape and run free on the grass once again. “Oh Macintosh, thank you. And don’t worry about your shirt, I’ll make you a dozen more.”
Rainbow Dash cleared her throat and stepped forward. She lifted a foot and rested it on the sled and leaned over to look Macintosh in the eye. “Yeah, the piglet’s cute, it’s great, but I came here to talk to you about draft racing.” Dash inhaled as much air as she could for what she was about to say next. “Listen, I’m going to be honest with you. I think you’re the stupidest damn pony in Ponyville for rejecting coaching from one of the greatest living athletes in Equestria.”
Fluttershy slapped her forehead.
“Not only am I current member and rising star of the Wonderbolts, I--”
“Rainbow Dash,” Macintosh said, and his voice came out so tense, quiet, and measured that even Dash fell silent to listen. Macintosh pressed his palms together and brought them to touch his forehead, eyes closed almost in prayer. Rarity had no doubt he was praying for patience; it wasn’t as if he needed to pray for strength.
“You wanna coach so bad, then coach yourself to pull this sled up that hill.” He pointed to a hill a few dozen yards away, the same one he had attempted to climb yesterday morning. “Then we’ll talk.” Macintosh stood and ambled to the apple orchard, leaving Dash to stare at him as he left.
“What? You don’t think I can do it?” Dash yelled at him. “Oh, I’ll do it! You just watch! Then you’ll be begging me to coach you, but by then this pegasus’ll be long gone, buddy!” Rainbow Dash threw on the harness, leather straps and chains all tangled together across her chest, but she didn’t care. Despite her best efforts, however, the sled stayed stone still. No matter how hard she pulled, flew, or even pushed, she couldn’t get it to move, but she would not quit.
Rarity looked back and forth between Rainbow Dash and her futile efforts, and Big Macintosh as he disappeared beneath the apple trees. “Shouldn’t we do something about this?” she asked Fluttershy. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of them quite this angry before. Especially not at each other.”
“I...don’t think we could do anything to help,” Fluttershy sighed. She narrowed her eyes in thought. “But I think we know someone who can.”
“Pinkie Pie?”
“Pinkie Pie.”
Diamond On The Rough
For years Applejack had said that the day Rarity volunteered to do farm work was the day she ate her hat. So it came as a bit of a shock when Rarity came by Sweet Apple Acres one brisk spring morning and did just that. She had asked with her usual confidence, with a flick of her hair no less, as if she were doing Applejack a favor. Applejack trailed her gaze down Rarity's body, at the finely tailored, pinstripe pants held up by suspenders over a crisp, white dress shirt. She would be right at home in a decades-old musical about corner newscolts, not so much in the middle of an apple orchard.
"What, uh, what'd you say, Rare? Ah don't think Ah heard ya right," Applejack said, dropping and taking a seat on a bale of hay meant for the pigs.
Rarity shifted her weight to the other leg, her hips swaying to complete the motion. "I said I would like to work on your farm."
A big red hand snatched Applejack's stetson hat from her head. When she turned around to retrieve it, Big Macintosh held it well away from reach. She scowled up at him, and he smirked back. He lifted up his other hand, clacked a pair of tongs, and pointed with his chin to a charcoal grill already smoking behind him. Applejack's face sank. Looks like she was gonna eat her hat sooner rather than later. It was only fair, considering that time she made him eat his boots after that incident with the oranges.
Applejack turned back to Rarity whose eyes were glued to Macintosh, cheeks flushed.
"Wh-Why is Big Macintosh here? I thought he was going to Appleoosa for a week to help Braeburn."
Applejack cocked an eyebrow. "The day Braeburn asks for help is the day a pony marries a buffalo. Who the heck fed you that gossip?"
"Pinkie Pie."
"Figures," Applejack said. "’Fraid you fell for one of her pranks, but what confuses me most, Rare, is why you even wanna work on the farm in the first place."
"If you must know," Rarity said with another flick of her hair, "I'm incorporating denim into my usual range of aesthetics, and I thought that the best way to truly understand such a working class material and make truly wonderful garments with it was to work on your farm for a bit of time."
Well, that sounded vaguely insulting enough for Applejack to take full advantage of her friend without feeling too guilty. If the mare wanted to get her hands dirty, then by all means. Not to mention Applejack might get some nice workwear out of it. Still, there was a faint ache in her gut that told her something was up. It was the way Rarity gawked at Big Macintosh as he worked on the grill. Applejack rubbed her chin. It wouldn't be the worst thing if Rarity had an interest in her brother. It was about time for him to settle down with a nice mare anyway. Honestly though, she hadn't thought that mare would be Rarity.
"Okay Rarity, if you wanna work the farm, then yer more than welcome to, with a few conditions. First, ya gotta commit to it for one month, ya hear? No matter how much you complain or how much you wanna give up, you gotta stick to it until then. Should be long enough to get yer anesthetic or whatever ya call it. You'll stay in our guestroom so you won't have any excuse to miss work.”
“Stay on Sweet Apple Acres?” Rarity gaped. “What ever for?”
“To make sure you get the genuine experience,” Applejack said with a grin. “Heck, you do a good job, we'll even pay ya...if you last the first day."
Rarity scoffed. "Honestly Applejack, it's as if you don't really believe I can do this."
Applejack tried to hold back a smirk, she really did. "Prove me wrong, Rarity."
Rarity crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, I will, sweetie, don't you worry your little freckles about that. Fine, I’ll stay on the farm."
Applejack chuckled, but quickly turned serious as she held up two fingers. "Second, no magic."
"What! No magic? Applejack, you can't–" Rarity stopped herself midsentence. She gave Applejack a hard stare and slowly nodded.
Applejack smiled. Maybe this mare was serious after all. Course, she wouldn't be sure until the end of the first work day. "We'll be sure to give ya the easy jobs, don't worry. You could take some of Applebloom's chores. Yer stronger than Applebloom, ain't ya."
Rarity rolled her eyes. "When do I start?"
Big Macintosh appeared again with Applejack's stetson hat on a platter. Several grill marks now decorated her hat, along with sprinkles of salt and pepper. Big Mac placed the platter on Applejack's lap and departed with a bow like a maitre d’ presenting a high quality meal. Applejack sighed and took the steak knife and fork beside her hat. She sawed into the brim.
"After I finish," Applejack groaned.
"A'right, let's see," Applejack said as she leaned against the wall beside her bedroom door. She rubbed her stomach to ease the cramps. Her hat was holding a rodeo in her stomach.
"No! I refuse to be seen in this," Rarity shouted from the other side. "At least give me time to do a few alterations. You might as well have given me an old sheet to wear. At least then I could have made a somewhat passable dress."
"C'mon now, Rare, we ain't got the time. It was bad enough waitin' for ya to get yer things. We should've been cleaning the pigpen an hour ago," Applejack said. She tapped her foot and looked at her wristwatch. At this rate she would be done with her chores by midnight. Maybe later. It wasn't as if Rarity would be the most useful farmhand to have around.
Applejack clenched her teeth. Her plan to playfully humble one of her best friends was already backfiring on her. Just thinking about going through this routine everyday for a month made Applejack's stomach turn even more. She needed to think of a better way.
Big Macintosh ambled out of the bathroom, freshly showered after tilling the empty fields, shirtless with a towel on his head. Thank Celestia, it was her way out. Applejack nonchalantly made her way to him. She couldn't make it seem like she was pawning off Rarity to him, and she couldn't lie either, obviously.
"Why if it ain't my favorite brother." Not a lie, so far so good. Big Macintosh peeked out from beneath his towel, his head tilted in semi-interest. "What do ya think of Rarity?" Macintosh looked up at the ceiling in thought. After a few seconds he simply shrugged. Okay, not much to work with, couldn't play the romance card. "Could you do me a favor and take Rarity along on the rest of your chores?"
Big Macintosh sucked in his lips. His eyes widened, and he leaned over to look at a point behind her. Confused, Applejack turned her head to look over her shoulder. Big Macintosh took his chance and rushed to his bedroom. It was only through pure reflex that Applejack managed to grip his arm and pull him back to her.
"I'm just askin' ya to show her around and let her help you out. Don't you want some help? You'll get your chores done fas–" Applejack stopped as she felt her face twisting. Nope, couldn't say that. That was an obvious lie. Applejack redirected. "What do you got against Rarity anyway?"
Big Macintosh quirked an eyebrow. His posture changed. He stood tall and straight, hips swiveled to the side. He flicked his head as if flipping hair several inches longer than his own. With pursed lips and half lidded eyes, Mac's impeccable impression was complete. If it wasn't for his musclebound form and red coat, Applejack would have sworn Rarity had appeared where Macintosh once stood.
"Okay, okay, Ah get it. So she's a little...fancy, that's somethin' to be admi–" Applejack had to stop before her face betrayed her fib. "Ah mean, that ain't any reason to think less of her. Why, Ah'm sure y'all'll get along fine."
Big Macintosh frowned, and Applejack rolled her eyes. She didn't want to bring out the big guns this soon, but it looked like she had no choice. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The saddest thoughts she could think of swam through her mind. Applebloom getting married and moving away. Big Macintosh winding up old and alone. Granny Smith passing on. Yup, that one did it. Slowly, Applejack opened her eyes, now watering, and looked up at Big Macintosh.
"Please, big brother, it'd mean so much to me."
Big Macintosh bit into his knuckles. He looked away, but it was too late. His head inched up and down in a nod.
Applejack took her chance and ran down the stairs. Oh wait! Rarity. She had almost forgot. She dashed back up and knocked on her bedroom door. "Rarity, Big Macintosh is gonna handle ya today so just follow him. Okay, thanks, bye." Applejack practically leapt down the stairs and headed out the door to complete her chores. Poor Mac, she almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
"Applejack? What did you say? Was it something about Big Macintosh?" Rarity called out from the bedroom. There was no answer. With a frustrated growl, Rarity adjusted the shorts and t-shirt Applejack gave her to try on. They sagged, everywhere. The sleeves, the chest, the hips, the butt, they all drooped off Rarity's more petite frame. This outfit being Applejack's, it was meant for more muscular physiques.
Rarity hummed in thought and raised her arm to tense her bicep. Imagine, the elegant and lovely Rarity, with the strength and muscles of someone like Applejack. A part of her thought she might enjoy having such an obviously intimidating figure. Who would dare look down on her when she could crush their head with her thighs, and not in a good way. She chuckled softly to herself. No, she was intimidating in her own way, and at most she would be happy with just a bit of tone. She would leave the bulk to the Apple family. Even Granny Smith still looked like she could toss a pony straight across Sweet Apple Acres. And Applejack had her admirers, mostly more wispish stallions and mares.
Not to mention Big Macintosh. Where would she even start to describe that wall of muscle? Parading around Ponyville shirtless all day, yet having the gall to remain completely professional and kind to everyone he met. What's worse was the simple fact that she was physically attracted to him. Very much so. An attraction that shot right past 'naive crush' and crash landed into 'burning lust'. Now usually, when faced with such attraction, she would simply seduce the mare or stallion and be on her merry way, but Macintosh being Applejack's brother complicated matters. She had hoped that working on her fashion designs would distract her.
"I swear the next time I see Pinkie..." Rarity growled under her breath. Well, there was nothing that could be done now. If she were to cancel her engagement on the farm, Applejack would think she was giving up before even a day's worth of work. And she absolutely could not deal with Applejack's smugness, and a gaff like this would be worth a week, maybe more. For Celestia's sake, Applejack still wouldn't shut up about how she was right after that cider incident. And that was several seasons ago.
No, she was a lady, and a lady kept her word and controlled her baser desires. It would be fine. All she had to do was avoid being around Macintosh. It would be simple, especially with clothes like these. Rarity looked down at her outfit. Macintosh surely wouldn't show any interest in her while wearing such ill-fitting clothing.
Rarity took a deep breath. She couldn't stall any longer. It was time for her debut. Well, there was nothing to be done with her outfit. It would take her an hour to get them to fit properly and at least another hour to put some style into such problematically pragmatic attire. She would have to fix them that night. Until then, she might as well own these baggy monstrosities. Rarity gripped the knob and mentally prepared herself. She closed her eyes, opened the door, and stepped out.
"I know, I know," Rarity said, stretching her arms out to her sides. "You wish you could make this outfit look this amazing." She opened her eyes and was surprised to see only Big Macintosh, wearing nothing but denim jeans and a stalk of wheat, leaning against the opposite wall. Rarity's usually pearly cheeks turned as crimson as Macintosh, and her arms fell. "Wh-Where's Applejack?"
Big Mac swept his arm in a large arc that seemed to encompass the entirety of Sweet Apple Acres. It didn't take a genius to interpret it.
"She's out on the farm." Rarity's shoulders sagged. "And I suppose she left me in your care?"
"Eeyup," Macintosh said, rolling his sprig of wheat to the other side of his mouth.
Rarity took another deep breath. Okay. This was fine. A slight change of plans, that was all. She could handle this. She looked over at Macintosh. He was shirtless as always. That wouldn't do. She couldn't focus under such conditions. "Macintosh, for the love of Celestia, put on a shirt."
Macintosh frowned and went to his room. A minute later he came out with a t-shirt that strained to contain him.
Rarity sighed. "Well, I suppose it's better than–"
Macintosh interrupted with a raise of his hand, palm toward Rarity. He raised both arms and flexed. The shirt ripped to shreds.
Rarity slapped her hand on her forehead, careful to avoid her horn. "Well then put on a bigger shirt!"
Macintosh tilted his head. Again he went into his bedroom, but this time he came out with a large flannel long-sleeve that hid his muscles well. Rarity smiled, but that smile slowly faded as Macintosh curled his arms again. A burst of wind rushed past Rarity. Nothing but bits of string remained on Mac's shoulders.
"Who makes your shirts!?" Rarity screamed. "Go back in there and find something, anything! I don't care what."
Macintosh slumped his shoulders and headed back into his room. He came out with a raincoat that fell into folds on the floor. It covered him from nose to toes, and even the sleeves reached past his arms.
"Good! Good." Rarity wiped her brow in relief. "Now let's go and–"
Macintosh crouched.
"Don't you dare."
He brought his shoulders forward.
"No."
He curled his arms, hands clasped together in front of his stomach.
"No, no, no, no, no!"
The coat burst like a balloon and completely vaporized. Not a stitch, not one scrap of cloth, remained. Rarity propped herself on the wall and slowly slid down to sit, dazed, on the floor. It was no use. His muscles were simply too powerful to be contained by normal fabric. Big Macintosh crouched beside her to check on her health, and Rarity quickly pushed him away. She tried to ignore how solid his chest felt.
"Fine. Fine!" Rarity got back on her feet, though she wobbled a bit before fully finding her balance. "If the universe wishes to oggle you shirtless, then who am I to argue?"
Macintosh nodded and led the way down the stairs. It was then that Rarity vowed to one day create a shirt strong enough to contain Big Macintosh's muscles. She didn't care how long it would take nor how much work she had to devote. One day, she would contain those pecs. Perhaps then he wouldn't stop foot traffic every time he took a walk into Ponyville.
Big Macintosh walked as if he had forgotten his destination. Once outside he would constantly look around the farm, looking for something but never finding it. He took her to the barn and grabbed four wicker baskets, large, round, and tall, and two pairs of hard, leather gloves. He gave a pair of gloves to Rarity and wandered down one of the many dirt paths across Sweet Apple Acres.
Rarity looked at him, eyebrows raised, and wondered if he even knew where he was going. She started putting on the gloves, but stopped when she caught sight of them from the corner of her eye. They were stained and soiled beyond belief, and only a few splotches of the original yellow leather peaked through the thickly caked black dirt. Holes and rips pierced and ran through the gloves.
Rarity grimaced. As if being dirty wasn't enough, they looked completely useless at protecting her hands. Rarity jogged to catch up to Macintosh.
"Big Macintosh!" Rarity called out. Macintosh stopped and turned to face Rarity's quick approach. She held out the gloves to him with their cuffs hanging between her fingernails. "I can't possibly wear these. Surely you must have a cleaner...newer...pair..." Rarity's gaze trailed down to Macintosh's hands. Hands that held an immaculate pair of work gloves. The soft, yellow leather glimmered in the sunlight.
Rarity’s eyes sparked with an idea. "Macintosh, sweetie, darling , could you please exhange gloves with me?" Rarity fluttered her eyelashes and put on her best smile. "These gloves are dirty and ripped, surely they're not suited for work, and they're especially not suited for me. So won't you please give me yours? I would be ever so grateful."
Macintosh brought his hands behind his back, hiding the gloves from her. Rarity huffed. Fine. If he wanted to play hard to get, then she would happily oblige. She sidled up to him and placed her left hand daintily on his chest. Her other hand wrapped around to the small of his back, close to the hand holding the coveted pair of gloves. Rarity's face flushed as she felt both solid muscle and the heat emanating from it. She had to do this quick before it backfired on her.
"Macintosh, have I ever told you just how much I adore the color of your coat? So bold. So dramatic. So unique. You know, red is my absolute favorite color."
Macintosh tilted his head. "Yer favorite color's sapphire blue."
"What?" Rarity took a step back. "How did you know that?"
Macintosh shrugged, unwilling to give up the information.
Rarity shook her head. She had lost focus so easily. Well, if he didn't give in to her flirtiness nor her pure animal magnetism, then she would have to utilize a more direct approach. Rarity dropped her grungy pair of mitts and held out her hand. "Give them to me."
"Nnope."
"Macintosh, now!"
Macintosh held his gloves tightly to his chest and shook his head.
Rarity leapt in a desperate lunge to snatch the gloves from Mac's hands. He was too quick and thrust his arm up into the air, far above her reach. But she was not going to let a few feet get in her way. Her horn glowed, and the gloves were engulfed in blue light.
Rarity tried to pull them away, but Macintosh's grip was too tight. They wouldn't budge. Fine. Magic be damned. She didn't care how she got them, she would get them. She jumped to reach them, but her fingers barely grazed the gloves. She grunted with each leap, but got no closer. She stopped once out of breath and doubled over, arms propped on knees. What was she doing? This was not how a lady should act.
Rarity cleared her throat and straightened. She patted her clothes free of imaginary dust and placed her hands on her hips. "Very well, Big Macintosh, if you will not give me the gloves, then I can't possibly work today." She pivoted on her right foot, back facing Macintosh, and walked away.
A pair of work gloves was hardly worth the trouble nor the degradation. She huffed with every step. That Macintosh, she swore, it was as if he couldn't appreciate the beauty in front of him. What gave him the right to deny her what she wanted? It was the clothes, wasn't it? Oh, if she had her usual attire she would have had him on his knees begging for her to take those gloves from him.
Rarity shook her head. Right now it was best to just forget about all this unpleasantness. At the very least, Macintosh must be feeling quite distressed as well. The thought made her feel immensely better. As a matter of fact, she wouldn't be surprised if he was on his way to catch up to her right this very moment. Rarity smiled and turned around to see the guilty look on his face.
He was walking the opposite way.
Rarity growled and clenched her fists. She bolted toward him like a cheetah on the hunt. She leapt onto his back before he even had a chance to turn around.
"Give me those gloves!"
Her attack made Macintosh stumble forward, but he kept to his feet and held his right arm high above his head, gripping the gloves. Rarity climbed onto his shoulders, thighs squeezing his head, and tried her damndest to pry open his fingers. No matter how hard she pulled, his fingers wouldn't loosen. He had a grip like a vice. With no other option, she bit into his fingers, hoping the pain would force his hand open. Macintosh didn't react. In fact, he didn't do anything to fight back. He just kept walking, hand raised, no doubt thinking about the work ahead of him. His nonchalant demeanor only made her bite harder.
"Rarity! What in the heck are ya doin' to my brother?"
Rarity froze. A stream of drool flowing down Macintosh's arm. Applejack stood in Macintosh's way, a deep scowl carved on her face. She leaned forward, fists on hips, and glared at Rarity. Rarity gulped and slid off Macintosh. She took two steps toward Applejack and hung her head, only to snap it back up and point at Big Macintosh.
"It was all his fault, Applejack! He started it. He pushed these completely disgusting gloves on me and kept the immaculate ones for himself, and when I asked, politely I might add, to trade, he wouldn't do it. Oh it was awful. Completely terrible."
Applejack pinched the bridge of her nose. "Gloves? That's what's got ya all riled up? Rarity, are you five?" Applejack walked past her and up to her big brother. She held her hand out, and Big Macintosh gave her the gloves. She examined them and rolled her eyes. "Well of course he didn't give 'em to ya. They're his gloves. They wouldn't even fit ya." Applejack grabbed Rarity's hand and slapped the gloves onto it.
"What?" Rarity looked down at the gloves. They did look rather...large up close and without the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She put them on, and they hung off her hands like a blanket ready to slip away at any moment. Rarity's cheeks turned hot. "Well...how embarrassing." Rarity took off the gloves and held them out to Big Macintosh. He took them, gave her a nod, and replaced the gloves with the blackened ones Rarity had dropped on the ground earlier. He continued down the path as if nothing had happened.
"Next time, just ask 'im why he won't give 'em to you," Applejack said. "Lotta folks think he ain't much for talkin', but that ain't the entire truth." She patted Rarity's shoulder. "Talk is talk. Doin' is doin'. You wanna get closer to Mac, be direct." She gave Rarity a wink. "Now get to work, Ah ain't payin' ya to stand around lookin' pretty."
Rarity raised an eyebrow, she stared as Applejack walked away to continue her own work. Did Applejack know of Rarity's feelings toward Macintosh? No, that couldn't possibly be it. If she really knew the nature of Rarity's attraction, she would definitely not approve. Perhaps Applejack had the sense but not the details.
Rarity shook her head. She had dwelled enough on it, and instead of thinking of it further, she focused on catching up to Macintosh. She slipped on the gloves, doing her best to ignore the rough grime icing the leather. She caught up to him, and as she walked beside him she couldn't help but feel a bit of tense air between them. Of course, Macintosh seemed as calm as ever, elbows up, hands behind his head, half-lidded gaze staring blissfully at the sky. Rarity couldn't help but feel a little jealous at his ease.
What had come over her? Her usually calm and collected demeanor had fallen to the wayside. All over a pair of gloves. She cringed just thinking about it. Rarity looked over at him. Perhaps it was the heat of the sun, except it was a mild spring day. Was it because it was Macintosh that kept the gloves from her? Was it because he hadn’t given them to her even when she flirted with him?
"So Macintosh," Rarity said, hoping to relieve some of the tension she felt, "are those gloves new?"
"Nnope," Mac drawled. "Ah just wash 'em e'ry time Ah use 'em."
"I must be honest, Macintosh, I never thought of you the type to worry about cleanliness."
Mac shrugged. "You let dirt slick up yer work gloves yer gonna lose grip."
Rarity said nothing and only nodded. She didn't really know where to go next with the conversation. Thankfully, Macintosh stopped in front of a couple of fields before Rarity could offer anything to the discussion. In one field, large, silky shrubs towered over green stalks poking out of the ground in the distinct shape of asparagus. In the second, large weeds absolutely covered the dirt.
Macintosh set down the two wicker baskets. He looked at Rarity and pointed behind him with his thumb at a wooden shed painted white. Pinned on the door was a poster advertising Ponyville's farmer's market every Saturday at noon. Rarity's mind clicked immediately. Today was Saturday, and they were going to harvest these fields to provide fresh vegetables for the Apple family to sell. Wait, but what time was it? Rarity reached for her pocketwatch before remembering that she left them in her other pants.
Macintosh tapped her shoulder and held up two fingers. Rarity raised an eyebrow. Had he seen her reach for her watch? Was he telling her two o' clock? No, that couldn't be it, otherwise it would already be too late. Did he mean two hours? It really couldn't mean anything else, unless he was showing off his desire for world peace.
"Well then," Rarity said. "I suppose we should get started."
Macintosh nodded, crouched, and started snapping the stalks of asparagus close to the soil line and placed them gently in his basket. Rarity leaned over him to watch him work for a few minutes. It didn't seem too hard, just snapping off the stalks. Once she felt comfortable enough with the process she crouched down beside Macintosh and mimicked his movements.
It took a while for her to find the best way to snap the spears. She had to use two hands to consistently made a clean break. Macintosh, in contrast, moved in well-practiced motions.With every spear she harvested, Macintosh put five in his basket. Rarity had only crouched for thirty minutes by the time Macintosh finished the rest of the field.
Without a break he moved on to the field of weeds. Except they were not weeds as Rarity first thought, but carrots. Macintosh carried the basket beneath one arm and pulled carrots out of the ground two at a time. Rarity hurried to the field and tried her best to keep up, but soon she fell well behind. Could anyone blame her? After all, she was used to designing not manual labor.
Now Macintosh, there was a pony built for manual labor. His muscles tightened with every motion, no matter how slight. His coat was damp with sweat, and he wore a content smile as he strained. Work was a good look on him. Rarity caught herself gawking and shook her head. Come now, there was work to be done.
Soon, Rarity's arms, back, and legs ached. The heat of the sun, even one a breezy spring day, made her drenched in sweat. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and gasped at the black smudges that stained her tee. Her makeup was running. This was miserable work, but there was no way she would stop. She might be elegant and high-class, but that didn't mean she was some wispy dandy unafraid of labor. Besides, the last thing she needed was a smug Applejack giving her an 'I told you so'. And so Rarity pressed on despite the fatigue.
By the time they finished, Rarity could hardly stand. She fell to sit beneath the shade of a nearby apple tree. She took in deep breaths of air, hoping to cool down, but it didn't help. Macintosh held out a canteen to her, and she took it gratefully. She gulped down the ice cold water and sighed in relief.
Macintosh crouched beside her and gave her a firm pat on the back. He smiled at her, and Rarity didn't dare look into his emerald eyes for fear of burning her cheeks. Instead she focused on his freckles. That didn't help matters. Macintosh seemed to notice Rarity's slight discomfort and stood. He took the baskets, two brims gripped in each hand, and walked to the shed, and the sound of running water soon came from there. Rarity sat for a few more minutes listening to the water.
What a lovely smile he had given her. Her cheeks turned a light tinge of red, and Rarity leaned back with a soft sigh escaping from her lips. The fields had completely exhausted her, and yet she felt ready to go out there again and continue working. When she looked out at those empty fields she helped harvest, she felt a wonderful sense of satisfaction almost as great and fulfilling as bringing one of her designs to life. She looked at her arm and flexed. How far could she go? After all, she had done only a fraction of the work Macintosh did.
"So how was it?"
Rarity almost leapt out of her coat as Applejack appeared beside her. "Applejack! Goodness, you scared me half to death."
Applejack grinned. "Not the fancy half Ah hope." Applejack chuckled at her own dumb joke. She crouched down to Rarity’s level and took out a handkerchief from her pocket. “Ya want me to wipe that makeup off ya?”
“Not all of it,” Rarity said, “just enough to make it look perfect again.”
Applejack chuckled nervously. “Aw heck, Ah’ll try but no promises.” Applejack dabbed Rarity’s cheeks. “You should ask Applebloom or Big Macintosh to do this next time. They’re good with makeup.”
Rarity burst into laughter. “Macintosh knows how to apply makeup? I would have never imagined.”
“Oh sure,” Applejack said. “Applebloom loved playin’ dress up when she was little. Ah remember the three of us would play it all the time. Applebloom would always wanna wear mama’s makeup. Of course, it was off limits, but Mac always sneaked some foundation or eyeliner or mascara for her.” Applejack finished wiping Rarity’s face and pocketed the handkerchief.
Applejack leaned against the apple tree and pinched her chin in thought as she looked at Rarity. Rarity pressed her lips into a tight line, she didn't like the look Applejack was giving her. She had a thoughtful frown and a furrowed brow, yet her eyes still sparkled with humor.
"Rarity, Ah think it's time we had the talk."
"Oh Applejack, I'm flattered you think me so young and innocent," Rarity said with a chuckle.
"Not that one." Applejack rolled her eyes. "The talk a mare has when one of her best friends is interested in her brother."
Rarity scoffed. "Me? Interested in Big Macintosh? No offense, Applejack, but I would call him the same thing I would call a dry champagne. Just look back at this entire glove fiasco, if that doesn't convince you that I do not have any feelings for Big Macintosh, then I don't know what will."
"C'mon now, Rare. We both know that if it were any other stallion you woulda cut them to pieces with that sharp tongue of yours, and Ah ain't ever seen ya lose yer cool like that unless it was about one of yer designs."
"That doesn't prove a thing," Rarity said quickly.
Applejack remained silent for a few seconds as she stared at Rarity. "So you ain't got any plans on courtin' my brother?"
"None."
Applejack shrugged. "Alright, if ya say so, Rare. Ah'll let ya get back to work, but before Ah do Ah wanna give ya some advice." She grabbed Rarity’s shoulder with a bit more force than necessary, and Applejack gave her a smile so sweet that just looking at it made Rarity's teeth ache. "If you go behind my back, Ah'll dropkick ya into the moon."
Rarity forced a smile and a nervous laugh, and Applejack joined in. She stood up and headed for the shed. She knocked on the door and the running water stopped. Macintosh walked out with a tall stack of long, shallow baskets filled bundles of washed and trimmed carrots and asparagus. He dropped the stack onto Applejack's waiting arms, and she said something to Mac before taking the vegetables toward the barn, no doubt the veggies’ final stop before heading off to the farmer's market.
Big Macintosh retreated back inside the shed and came out seconds later rolling a wheelbarrow in front of him. He strode up to Rarity, stopped, and covered his mouth to hold back laughter.
“What?” Rarity said with an angry blush. “Is it something on my…” Rarity trailed off as she touched her cheeks. Macintosh tightened his lips to keep his giggles contained, and reached into his pocket for his pocketwatch. He threw it to her.
Inside, Rarity found a mirror, and she gasped at the racoon that stared back at her. She swore she would get Applejack back for this. As Rarity thought of the best method of revenge, Macintosh crouched in front of her and offered her his handkerchief. Rarity took it gratefully and had her makeup fixed within three minutes.
Macintosh stood back up and used his thumb to point behind him. Rarity stood as well, ready to go to her next assignment. She saw the pairs of hatchets and axes inside the wheelbarrow and actually smiled. She frowned at her own reaction. What in the world was coming over her?
She followed Macintosh through Sweet Apple Acres and tried to enjoy the view, but Applejack's words tumbled in her mind all the while. Her words were typical of an overprotective sister, and it wasn't the first time Rarity was given such a talk.
Did Applejack have anything to worry about? Well, honestly Rarity didn't even know anymore. She was attracted to Macintosh on a physical level, but besides his physique the only exceptional thing about him was his ability to get under her skin. She thought about the work glove fiasco, and her cheeks burned. Usually she could have melted any stallion into doing her bidding, but not Macintosh.
It was absolutely annoying.
Big Macintosh stopped the wheelbarrow in a small copse of trees in a far off part of Sweet Apple Acres. No leaves or flowers decorated the branches despite the season, and each tree stood gnarled and ragged. They looked almost centuries old, and Rarity surmised that these were the trees they would cut down. Five trees. Not a terrible number. Rarity just hoped the work would go by quickly. She grabbed an axe and went to the nearest tree, but Mac stopped her with a calloused hand on her shoulder.
Macintosh approached the tree Rarity had walked towards. He closed his eyes and clasped his hands together. Rarity couldn't help but feel a little touched by the gesture. The Apple family made their living from the apple trees. Was it so strange for Macintosh to show a little gratitude? Rarity supposed he felt the same way about the trees that she felt toward a bolt of silk.
Big Macintosh stopped giving thanks and took a few steps closer to the tree. He wrapped his arms around the trunk in a hug, and Rarity raised an eyebrow. Okay, that might be a little much.
The tree's roots cracked the ground as Macintosh removed the tree from the dirt, clumps of soil showering the earth below. He crouched down and rested the tree gently on the ground. He did the same with the other four, leaving five large holes where the trees once stood.
Rarity smirked. "Are you trying to impress me?" she asked with a flutter of eyelashes.
Macintosh shrugged. He grabbed a hatchet and started hacking off the branches off one of the trees. Rarity took the other hatchet and went to help, but Macintosh raised his hand to stop her.
"Watch and learn," he said.
Rarity crossed her arms. "What?” Rarity said through clenched teeth. “Big Macintosh Apple, don't you dare underestimate me."
He ignored her and went back to work. Rarity huffed, but did nothing. If he wanted to wear himself out showing off his machismo, then let him. What did she care?
In a matter of minutes he hacked off the branches of the tree, cut them into somewhat uniform sizes, and stacked them neatly into the wheelbarrow. That only left the thick, tall trunk. He switched to an axe and made quick work of the trunk as well. It took all of an hour to reduce the tree to firewood. He wiped his brow free of sweat and leaned against the wheelbarrow. He pointed to Rarity and then to one of the trees on the ground.
Rarity stared at him and then at the hatchet in her hand. "You want me to do the next tree by myself?"
"Eeyup."
"Wouldn't it go faster if we break down the tree together?"
"Eeyup."
"Then why are you leaving it to me, especially after not letting me help with the first tree?"
Macintosh rolled his stalk of wheat to the other side of his mouth and held her gaze with his own emerald eyes. "You wanna to see how much grit you got, don't ya?"
Rarity raised an eyebrow. How did he manage to read her so well? She kept her eyes on him as she went to the next tree and crouched down beside the trunk. Just like before, Macintosh had made the work look easy. Rarity managed to chop away at a slow but even pace. The trunk was much more difficult, the axe much more unwieldy. With every swing her arm burned and screamed for her to stop. She did not.
Macintosh whistled between her swings, and Rarity stopped to look at him. He came up to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He squared them off to the trunk, and used his foot to widen her stance. Rarity blushed as Macintosh enclosed her hands to hold the axe. He slid her right hand closer to the head of the axe, her other hand closer to the butt.
Rarity blushed to her ears as Macintosh brought his body closer to her, chest to her back, hips touching hips. Honestly, she had imagined them in a situation like this before, but she always thought it would be while they danced or played golf or tennis. Something she had read about in romance novels.
He went through a full, slow swing with her, and as the axe lowered Macintosh slid both their right hands to meet their left. After the small lesson, Macintosh patted her shoulder and went back to the wheelbarrow to fetch the other axe and hatchet to work on the other trees.
Rarity stared at him. He did that on purpose, didn't he? Surely his little axe lesson was more than just an axe lesson; it was a sly attempt to fluster her. Rarity watched as Macintosh took a whetstone from his pocket and started sharpening the tools. She rolled her eyes and focused back on the tree. Oh what was she saying? This was Big Macintosh she was talking about. As if he would ever be debonair and charming enough to pull off a stunt like that.
Macintosh's lesson made each swing feel easier, but despite the added momentum to her swings, Rarity took much longer to break down a tree. She still didn’t stop.
The lower curve of the sun touched the horizon as Rarity set down the axe and sat on the soft grass. Chopped wood surrounded her, and for the second time that day she was completely exhausted. She smiled as she lay back and stared at the sky. She had done it. She had reduced an entire tree to firewood. Never had she thought such an act would make her feel happy, yet here she was, smiling like an idiot.
Big Macintosh towered over her, and he held a brown, glass bottle out to her. Rarity sat up. When had he gone to fetch this? She took the bottle and it chilled her hand like ice. Macintosh sat beside her with his own bottle.
Rarity twisted off the bottlecap and took a sniff of the drink. Cider. The Apple family's special reserve no doubt. She took a sip, and the freezing drink did wonders for her parched throat. She looked around and noticed that Macintosh had made quick work of the final three trees and stacked the wood beside the wheelbarrow. She sighed and took another sip.
Macintosh followed her gaze. "You did good," he said. "Don't think Ah'd do half as good makin' a dress as you did choppin' up a tree."
Rarity chuckled. "How sweet of you to say." She wasn't surprised at Macintosh's statement. Fashion design required more skill than lumberjacking did, but Rarity wasn't going to say that out loud. "I'm a little surprised, however, at how...good it felt to do such manual labor."
Macintosh nodded. "It feels good to do somethin' with yer own hands, with yer own strength." He took a large gulp from his bottle and then pressed it against the side of his head. "You use your hands or magic to make an outfit?"
Rarity was taken aback by the question, mostly because she never expected him to show any interest in her work. "A little bit of both, I suppose. When I first started it was about half and half. As I grew in both fame and skill I favored magic more and more, I could manage more intricate patterns with much less time."
Macintosh nodded and finished the rest of his cider. He got back on his feet and started stacking the wood from Rarity's tree. She watched him for a while, sipping at her sweet cider.
Just what was he doing to her?
Of course aprons would be immune to Macintosh's muscles, especially frilly pink ones. Rarity, freshly showered and changed, sat quietly next to Applejack as Macintosh served dinner. Applejack leaned back in her seat, fanning herself with another stetson hat, beads of sweat on her forehead.
“Are you all right?” Rarity asked.
“Doin’ a lot better now, just came out of the bathroom.” Applejack gave her a sheepish smile and raised her new hat. “Son of a gun went out about as well as it went in.”
Rarity scoffed. “Applejack, please! We’re about to eat.”
“Hey, you asked,” Applejack said. “Food smells good though, an’ Ah’m starvin’.”
Rarity rolled her eyes as Macintosh set down a plate in front of her. Rarity stared at the sliced pork tenderloin atop a bed of mushroom risotto with a drizzle of red wine and apple cider reduction. It looked absolutely impeccable, like a meal she would order at a fine restaurant in Canterlot.
Rarity waited for one of the Apples to say something, anything, about such a fine meal, but they never did. Instead they dug right in, passing around a large serving bowl of roasted carrots and asparagus. Macintosh smiled as he removed the apron and took a seat at one end of the table right across from Granny Smith.
"So," Rarity began, if no one was going to mention the meal then she would have to. "Macintosh, you made such an...impressive supper. Any special reason?" It would make sense. A quiet, lonesome farmer trying to impress the high class socialite with a four star meal. Perhaps she had been wrong about him after all.
"Aw heck, Mac always makes these fancy-shmancy meals when it's his turn to cook," Applejack said. "Last week he made steak, uh, what was it called, big brother?"
"Filet mignon."
"Yeah that. It was mighty tasty Ah gotta say."
"Sure was, so tender Ah could eat it without my dentures," Granny Smith said with a cackle. "Ain't surprised, though. Ah'm the one that taught 'im. Course, he was a good student too."
"So, big brother, how was workin' with Rarity?" Applejack asked with a less-than-innocent smile. "She handle the farmwork okay?"
Macintosh said nothing and only gave Applejack a thumbs up, and she raised her eyebrows in response.
"A thumbs up?" Applejack shot Rarity a smile. "Highest praise Mac ever gives without sayin' a word. You must've really made an impression on 'im."
Rarity wiped her mouth with a napkin in an attempt to hide her blush. "Well, it wasn't as if I was trying to," she said. If anyone needed to impress anyone, it was Macintosh that needed to impress her. She took a forkful of risotto and ate. It was delicious, absolutely divine. She scowled at her plate, trying her best not to let on how much she loved it.
The conversation around the dining room table went on at a gentle pace. Applebloom talked about school, and Granny Smith, Applejack, and Big Macintosh talked about the coming day's chores. Rarity quietly ate her meal and listened intently. There was a very good chance she would be doing these chores.
After the meal, Macintosh cleared away the table, and Applejack patted Rarity's shoulder.
"C'mon, Ah'll show ya to yer room," she said.
Rarity nodded and followed Applejack upstairs where the bedrooms were. She led Rarity to the end of the hallway and opened one of the doors. The luggage Rarity retrieved that morning was stacked by the bed. The bed itself was modest, not exactly as luxurious as the four-poster she had back home, and definitely not as big. An upright piano stood against the opposite wall, and an easel was tucked into a corner, a canvas stretched across its surface. There was a heavy wooden desk beside the door, large enough to hold both a typewriter and a sewing machine with plenty of empty space between them.
Rarity went to the piano and pecked a few keys. "What an interesting room."
"Yup, we sorta use it as an arts and crafts room. We actually got some fabric in the dresser over there. Nothing fancy, just some denim and cotton and some scraps of old clothes." Applejack patted Rarity's back. "Feel free to decorate, yer gonna be here for a month after all."
"How generous," Rarity said dryly. Well, the room could certainly have been worse. At least she could work on her denim designs while she stayed here.
"Ah'll leave ya to it then," Applejack said. She gave Rarity a pat on the back. "Rest up for tomorrow." She left the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Rarity to her own devices.
Rarity sighed and sat down at the desk. She closed her eyes and held the side of her head in her hand. It had been a long day. Her horn glowed and her luggage opened. Her sewing supplies levitated toward her. Rarity took her work clothes (Granny Smith had been kind enough to wash them before dinner) and hovered them in front of her.
She knew her measurements by heart, but just before her floating scissors cut into the fabric, Rarity stopped. She leaned back into her chair and stared at the ceiling. She rubbed her temple, and her magic stopped. She grabbed the scissors and her hand-me-down shorts and got to work.