Her hoof searched blindly, patting the spot on her mattress where a warm, svelte body was meant to be. It found nothing.
No warm coat. No soft feathers or powerful wings to caress until a keening whine sounded from the back of a mare’s throat, nor kissable blue lips curved into a tired smile despite her protests. Not a hint of the scent of cirrus or blur of rainbow mane as eyes as green as the forest cracked open and blinked away sleep.
Applejack took a deep breath through her nose, frowning as she released it slowly. “Three weeks,” she grumbled, sitting up in the bed they’d shared for nearly a year.
Nearly a year save for the last three weeks. Exactly twenty-one days since the argument.
Her lips pressed together in a thin line. Rainbow Dash knew how important Zap Apple season was to Sweet Apple Acres and the family as a whole. It came the same time of year every year for nearly a century, and it wasn’t like she didn’t delight in scarfing as much Zap Apple jam or cider as she could stuff down her gullet.
With a snort that told of still-simmering ire, Applejack rolled out of bed and set about her morning routine.
A quick shower and brushing of her mane, then the usual torture of fumbling to fix her mane tie in place with clumsy earth pony hooves took little more than half an hour before she was ready. Any minute now, Rainbow would slip in like the little smart-aleck she was, mumble a greeting, then—oh. No she wouldn’t. She wasn’t home.
She hadn’t been for three weeks.
Twenty-one mornings without a groggy “Morning” and kiss on Applejack’s freckled cheek to start the day.
“Darn thick-headed pegasus!” she spat. “Her an’ her dang Wonderbolt things always come up at the worst time!”
All because of that damn fight over some stupid show tour smack-dab in the middle of Zap Apple season.
Snatching her hat off the hook on the wall, Applejack stepped out into the hall and dragged her hooves along the wood floor until she reached the stairs. She heaved a sigh and began to descend, stomping her way down to the ground level floor. She hung a right through the living room and trotted into the kitchen.
A half smile and nod to Granny was followed by a soft “Mornin’” and gentle tussling of Apple Bloom’s red mane before she walked over to stand at Big Mac’s side by the stove.
With a spatula in hoof, he glanced out of the corner of his eye, offering a crooked smile and nod as he poked at a flapjack. “Mornin’,” he rumbled. A second nod guided her eyes to a small stack of letters resting on the counter to her left. “Mail’s come, if ya wanna read before ya eat.”
“Thanks,” she replied. Applejack picked up the stack and moved to take her seat across from Granny. She leaned back in her seat, tilted her hat back so she could read, and did her best to feign interest as she flipped through and opened the letters, her eyes skimming over the words as she waited to come to the only contact she held any real interest in hearing from.
There was only one name she wanted to see in the upper left corner this morning.
“Ain’t nothin’ from her,” Mac called. “Looked already an’ had Muffins check her bag. Twice, before ya ask.”
A bitter taste stung her tongue. Applejack slapped the last remaining letter down on the table top without opening it and stood up, her chair scraped against the floor. She huffed out an angry snort, gritting her teeth as she stomped out of the kitchen.
“Sis?” Apple Bloom called. “Ain’t ya gonna eat before we head to the orchard?”
“Lost my appetite,” she ground out in reply.
Three weeks. Three weeks and not even so much as a letter seeing how things were going or, better yet, an apology.
Nothing.
The sound of her hooves stomping against the floor was cathartic indeed, but it did little to stem her growing ire. Like a spark falling on oil, her temper flared to life with all the intensity of a raging inferno.
She took a deep breath in through her nose, held it a moment, then let it out slowly. “Dang mare don’t give a whit ‘bout this place,” she grumbled. “Don’t give half a care ‘bout nothin’ but shows and all that load o’ Wonderbolts horseapples they’ve fed her since she made the team.”
A cadence of heavy hooves thumping against the floor made her flick an ear. Applejack turned to glance over her shoulder, fixing Big Mac with a questioning look.
He stared right back at her, his face impassive as a great stone. Then, slowly, his brow arched a mere fraction.
“Don’t you start,” Applejack said before he could make comment. “I left you ’n Sugar Belle alone when the two of you had that lil’ tiff over whether you were movin’ there or she was comin’ here, an’ I ain’t gettin’ involved ‘till it’s done. So stay outta my business with Dash.”
Big Mac furrowed his brows. “When ya start snappin’, stompin’ ‘round the farm, ’n carryin’ on like the snippy lil’ filly who ran off to Manehattan, it becomes my business. ‘Specially when you’ve been laggin’ in the zap apple buckin’.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, a biting retort died on the tip of her tongue. He knew just how much such implications would cut into her, and, worse …
They both knew just how right he was.
Huffing out a deep sigh, she said, “Just leave it. I’ll deal with it when she comes back.” If Rainbow came back, another part of her whispered.
“That don’t solve nothin’ in the meantime,” he replied without a change in his tone. “Ain’t gonna tell ya who I think is right or wrong, ‘cause that ain’t my place. But it’s past time y’all stopped actin’ like a pair of cluckin’ hens an’ sat down to talk.”
A low, discontented groan rumbled from her throat, but she didn’t contradict him. It had been plenty long, far longer than any of their previous arguments.
But none of those arguments ended with Rainbow Dash walking out on them in the middle of Zap Apple season with little more than a few harsh words, her saddlebags packed, and her nose in the air before she flew off to Cloudsdale. Off to those darn shows.
Big Mac gave her a rough shove. “Don’t you start with that look. The more you sit ’n stew, the harder it’s gonna be for the two of you to patch things up.”
“What? Ya think ‘cause you’ve got a mare you’re some sorta expert or somethin’?”
“Not a chance.” He turned to walk back into the kitchen, though not without one last parting shot over his shoulder. “I’ve just known the two of ya long enough to see this show play out an’ recite most of the lines while y’all scream ‘em at one another. Let me know when ya smarten up an’ decide to take care of things. Bloom ’n I’ll mind the farm once ya do.”
Her temper flared again. Applejack’s tail lashed angrily behind her. Where the hay did he get the gall to talk about Rainbow and her like that?
So what if they butted heads every now and again? That didn’t mean they didn’t love one another.
It was just.
Darn it.
Those dang shows always popping up in the middle of important things. And Dash just went flying off with barely a care, scoffing each time Applejack tried to get her to come back down to the ground and think about which was going to be around longer—the farm and the family, or the shows and the Wonderbolts.
Applejack wasn’t dumb. She’d done a little research with Twilight on her own. Wonderbolt flight careers didn’t last more than ten years, not unless the pegasus was extremely lucky, like the current crop of officers. Most of them ended up as flight instructors or stuck at desk jobs after seven or so. And with Rainbow’s penchant for big crashes …
Seven would be a generous estimate.
And she wasn’t writing home. Applejack genuinely wasn’t sure which frustrated her more—Rainbow skipping out on Zap Apple season or refusing to even write home.
Which left only one option if she wanted to set things right.
Consarnit, she thought, tilting her hat forward to cover her eyes as she muttered, “I hate it when that stallion’s right.” Turning toward the house, she called out, “Mac! You ’n Bloom got the farm for a couple days!” To herself, she sighed and said, “An’ I get six hours’ train ride to talk with a stewin’ pegasus.”
What a delightful prospect. Why couldn’t she just find a mare who’d take flowers and chocolates and a sheepish grin as an apology?
The ride from Ponyville to Manehattan seemed both too long and, perplexingly, too short for her tastes. Oh, Applejack knew well enough that it took no less than six hours travel on a good day to make it to the bustling city on Equestria’s east coast, the greatest of Sunshine Province.
But it felt so long. So long that she had time to sit and think about that blasted argument with Rainbow Dash, the words still fresh in her mind three weeks to the date after the fact.
“I can’t just skip out on a tour, Applejack! I’m on the top squad of the Wonderbolts, I’m expected to be at every show and every training session! We talked about this when I made the feathering team!”
“An’ you know we need ya ‘round here for this year’s Zap Apple season! We talked about that months ago when Granny mentioned it comin’ a lil’ early this time! An’ you were all for it, long as you got first dibs on some cider so you wouldn’t be left with the last bits!”
Rainbow had snorted and flexed her wings in challenge. “I’ve said sorry, like, a hundred times now! It slipped my mind! I don’t plan this stuff, for crying out loud! I’ll ask for the harvest season off next year!”
The scene played out over and over again, for six hours. Even as she exited the train and heard the piercing whistle ring in her ears, the parting shot she fired off still echoed as fresh as if it had just slipped from her lips seconds ago, rather than three weeks.
“If ya even cared at all,” she recalled as she weaved her way through the crowded station, past the guards posted by the entrance gate, and out into the busy streets of East Manehattan, “you’d have remembered and made it a point to be where it mattered most.”
Applejack stopped on the corner of Sixth Street and Trotter Avenue, wincing at the heat in the memory of her own voice. Had she really been so harsh? Sure, she had been plenty angry, rightfully so in her mind, but had she really gone that far?
Yes.
Yes, she had.
And as vividly as she recalled her own actions, Rainbow’s reaction had been burned into her memory like a branding iron on wood. The hurt in those beautiful raspberry eyes made Applejack’s ears droop, her tail sagged as she remembered how Rainbow had turned, her tail snapping through the air like a whip, stomped her way up to the room, grabbed all her things, and left without so much as a goodbye to anypony.
Three weeks and a six hour train ride later, it finally hit home.
Applejack laid a hoof on a lamppost and slowly leaned against it, the cool metal teasing her warm coat. Blinking, she looked down at the cracks in the pavement and tried to think through the problem at hoof. Namely, how to patch things up with an angry pegasus.
An angry pegasus she couldn’t bring the aforementioned flowers, chocolates, and sheepish grins in exchange for a little one on one talk. Oh no. With Rainbow Dash, she’d be lucky if she could get the mare to stop long enough to let her explain before she was gone in a whirl of feathers and a sonic boom.
Cider, on the other hoof … well, if she could find anything good, that would at least be a start. A small peace offering and token of apology before the healing actually began.
And far more likely to get her back into Dash’s good books than flowers or chocolates could ever hope to do.
She pushed away from the light post and trotted over to a guard pony to ask about the nearest liquor store, then paused in thought. “Might be best to get two,” she muttered, wincing to herself. “That crack about short careers was bad enough on its own.”
Something told her that, even after making up, an empty bed would await her for quite some time.
Maybe she’d get a hug or a kiss here and there if Rainbow was feeling nice enough.
It was a small mercy Applejack managed to find some good old fashion Sweet Apple Acres’ gold label on the shelves, though it did cost her five bits each. Highway robbery, in her opinion, but to smooth things over with Rainbow Dash …
Well, forty bits for a train ticket and ten for the cider wasn’t exactly easy money to toss out the window, but in the long term, it would be well worth it.
Next came the easy part, finding Rainbow.
Where else but Manehattan’s famed Celestial Gardens, where the Thundering Herd called home and ponies from all over came just to take a picture before the stadium itself. It had a fancy retractable roof, perfect for the Wonderbolts’ air shows. Almost as good as getting seats at Bolt Peak One—their home facility in Canterlot.
Applejack approached the stadium, a pair of saddlebags kindly provided by the store for an extra bit thumping against her sides, and headed toward the ticket counter. She took a note of solace in the lack of a long line, no doubt because most ponies going to the show had planned ahead and bought theirs in advance. Which meant any who hadn’t would be paying just a tad more out of pocket to see the world’s greatest flyers in action.
Unless, of course, they had connections on the team—like family, old friends, or, say, a girlfriend.
A young stallion wearing a collared shirt and a blue bowtie awaited her at the stand. His face was a bit round, still holding a bit of that coltish fat, and dotted with the beginnings of a stubble. “Hi, there!” he greeted with a nod. “Here to buy tickets to the Wonderbolts show?”
“Not unless there ain’t any reserved for me,” she replied, brushing her hat back so she could meet his eye. “Mind checkin’ under the name ‘Applejack?’”
“Sure thing! Just a second!” His ears stood up straight. The stand attendant pulled out a binder and lit his horn, flipping through the reservations under the letter A. His smile seemed to fade a touch as he searched, then strained with each passing second until it was something more akin to a pained grimace. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said hesitantly, “but I don’t see any tickets left under your name.”
His words stung, but only for a second. “How ‘bout under ‘Rainbow Dash?’”
This time his ears twitched. “Like, the actual Wonderbolt? That Rainbow Dash?” At her nod, he blinked. “Uh … you know her?”
“Been datin’ her a year and been friends for several more,” Applejack replied flatly. “I like to think I know her pretty well.”
The colt’s cheeks colored. “Er, right! Let me just … yeah.” He buried his nose in his binder, searching fervently for any sign of tickets left under Rainbow’s name.
For a moment, Applejack felt a chill run through her veins. What if she’d upset Rainbow enough to do away with her typical reservation? Oh, sure, she would be out a few more bits, a non-issue in her opinion. Sweet Apple Acres had brought in good money over the past couple years, so parting with some bits for general admission weren’t a bother.
No, the real problem would be in how offended Rainbow must have been to take the time to stop and think to pull her reservation. Storming off and fuming for three weeks without writing home were one thing, but focused anger?
Maybe she should’ve sprung for four bottles. And it might have been a good idea to have Twilight reach out to Daring Do to get a couple autographed books for starters.
“Found it!” the colt said, a hint of relief evident in his tone, almost as if he’d been worried he might hear it from both mares. Though perhaps he had before. “One ticket with a note that it’s for Applejack from Ponyville, down in the first level—huh? Not in the Wonderbolts box, that’s odd.”
No it wasn’t. Applejack waited a moment for the colt to finish double and triple checking to make sure it wasn’t a mistake, then accepted the ticket and walked toward the entrance. It wasn’t odd in the slightest that Rainbow hadn’t put her in the box.
Because Rainbow hated watching Wonderbolts shows from anywhere other than the front row when she was a filly. It was one of the things she always cherished—a fun day at the Cloudsdale Colosseum with her father and the best flyers in the world on display before her very eyes. Why, then, should her girlfriend not get the same chance?
Mad, but not so mad that she wouldn’t want me to come at all, Applejack mused as she showed her ticket to the gatekeepers and entered the arena. Her eyes haphazardly flitted about the interior, passing over posters and clippings of past events that had taken place in the Celestial Gardens, in search of the right section. A quick glance at her ticket and match with an overhead sign reading 110 brought a smile to her lips. She stepped through the doorway, then descended the steps in a brisk trot until she reached row A and had to try to brush by a few ponies on her way to seat seven.
Front row seat as usual, and in the middle so she wouldn’t have to get up for other ponies every so often. Perfect.
Now to sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.
The stadium seats filled quickly, as they always did. A sea of multicolored ponies of all ages waited impatiently for the Wonderbolts to come out, the air seemed to buzz with excitement and chattering voices. In the distance, Applejack could even spot a few pegasi pushing up clouds for overfill seating.
Then there was a crackle of static through the speaker system. “Good evening, mares and stallions,” a stallion’s voice rumbled, “fillies and colts of all ages, and welcome to Celestial Gardens!” He paused a beat to allow the crowd to roar in response, then continued his introduction. “Tonight, Celestial Gardens and CG Entertainment are proud to bring you a spectacle like no other! Daring feats of skill, grace that has made the greatest artisans weep across the centuries! Ponies! Stomp your hooves for your Wonderbolts!”
Seven streaks of blue and gold shot over the stadium as the final syllable rang out. The crowd stamped their hooves, rolling thunder joined the cacophony and made Applejack pin her ears back to avoid that pesky ringing.
She searched the sky, her eyes flitting between each of the Wonderbolts as they flew in perfect formation, passing over each until she found her target flying along on Captain Spitfire’s left side. That familiar rainbow mane trailed behind her, as if she’d taken a dip in liquid rainbow on her way over and was trying to take care of it with her patented “Rain-blow dry.”
Rainbow Dash was truly in her element. A fully, toothy grin spread across her face as she banked left, following her senior members in a low, speedy lap around the track. Applejack had to quickly grab her hat as they passed her by before it was ripped from her head, she stifled a laugh as a few adventurous foals tried to reach out and see if they could steal a hoof bump from the team.
In the back of her mind, Applejack knew the reason they didn’t return the gesture. There were too many dangers of limbs catching and somepony getting hurt at those speeds, thus why the Wonderbolts drilled specific flight patterns until they could almost recite them by heart.
Her eyes returned to Rainbow.
The light in those red-purple eyes made her heart skip a beat. It had been three weeks since the last time she’d seen the way they gleamed and shone with unrivaled joy as she flew or roughhoused around the farm. To her, all this spectacle was more than just some show.
It was more than a chance to show off a loop-de-loop or how close to the ground she could pull out of a nosedive. Hay, it was even more than a chance to fly with the best.
Wonderbolts shows to Rainbow were like the farm to Applejack.
Pure bliss. All she would ever ask for.
All she’d ever ask for except perhaps one or two things.
As Rainbow came out of a dive, their eyes met for a second. For a moment, time stood still. Rainbow’s grin faltered a fraction, then renewed twofold.
The gleam in her eyes shone brighter than ever before as she came out of her dive just before her snout kissed the ground and shot forward with one hoof outstretched. Her path was straight and true.
Directly toward Applejack.
Swallowing a lump, Applejack tried her usual response when seeing Rainbow fly toward her at full speed: back away and try to dive for cover. She only managed a step before her backside hit the plastic seat, drawing a yelp and a startled glance over her shoulder.
All Rainbow needed.
By the time she turned back around, a blue hoof tapped her nose ever so gently, a teasing gesture Rainbow so loved to pull on the girls—a light tap, just enough to make them scrunch and cross their eyes. Then, with her tail lashing gaily, she was gone, arching back into formation as if it had never happened.
Applejack adjusted her hat, grumbling curses and promises of retribution in contrast to the grin spreading across her face. “Dang, hard-headed pegasus,” she muttered under her breath.
Her voice joined the cheers a half second afterward.
One of the many perks of dating a Wonderbolt would make her the envy of superfans across Equestria: backstage passes.
The security teams and trainers knew her well enough to call her by name or stop and wave as they worked to get everything packed away. Applejack returned each greeting with a nod and tip of her hat, never stopping her brisk trot through the hallway leading to the locker rooms. The smell of sweat and mildew might have made her nose curl if she didn’t work around farm animals and Big Mac during the summer months, but she pressed onward.
She arrived before their locker room door in short order, sparing a tip of her hat to the Wonderbolt Security pegasi on either side. “Evenin’, boys,” she greeted.
The pair offered small smiles in return before slipping back into their proper masks. “Nice to see you again, Applejack,” the one on the left said in reply. “Lieutenant Dash should be out in a few minutes. Captain Spitfire is probably still giving the post show—oof!” He was cut off as the locker room door swung outward and clipped his snout.
Rainbow stood in the doorway, her sky blue ears perked up, eyes wide, and feathers twitching nervously. She cast a quick glance to her right and gave an awkward cough before mumbling a quick apology.
Then her eyes fell on Applejack again. The farm mare felt her heart leap into her throat.
“Uh …” Applejack shuffled her hooves and ducked her head low. “Hey, Dash.”
Her words seemed to jolt Rainbow out of a stupor. She blinked twice. “You came,” she said softly.
“Yeah. I, uh, missed you. A lot.” Cursing her tongue for being uncooperative, she tilted her hat forward to cover her eyes. “Reckon we need to talk somewhere private—no offense, guys.”
“None taken,” the security ponies replied.
A nervous grin tugged at Rainbow’s lips. Again, her feathers twitched, joined by a flick of her colorful tail. “Yeah, we probably should.” She looked down the corridor Applejack had just come from and gestured with a slight lift of her right wing. “Wanna head out? They’re all going to a bar or something, and I … don’t think that’s the best place for this.”
With a nod, Applejack let Rainbow take the lead. They walked out of the Celestial Gardens together, then down Canter Corner and Seventh Avenue toward Sun Square.
A heavy silence fell over them, almost suffocating.
Or was that just the nerves? Or the guilt?
Rainbow led her into the Grand Manehattan Hotel, a rather upscale place in Applejack’s opinion. Just the thought of spending bits on one night was enough to make her wonder if she’d have to mortgage the farm--let alone actually eat there. Room service alone just might put the family into bankruptcy.
As they waited for the elevator, their eyes met again. In near perfect unison, the pair broke the silence.
“I’m sorry—”
“--I said those things ‘bout your shows—”
“--shouldn’t have stormed off like that—”
“--know it meant a lot when ya made the team—”
“--wanted to write but I thought you’d just tear up the letters.”
“--it’s my fault.”
They stopped walking and turned to stare at each other, both blinking. “Uh,” Rainbow began. “Can we try that again?.”
“Sure.” Applejack sighed. “Look, Dash. I’m not gonna pretend I wasn’t a little disappointed about losin’ you for the season, that’d be a bold-faced lie an’ we both know it.” She waited a moment for Rainbow to give a reluctant bob of her head before continuing, “But I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have. An’, honestly, I can’t quite blame ya for not writin’ home with the way I acted.”
Rainbow’s ears twitched. “But I’m the one who blanked on—”
Applejack covered her mouth. “Yeah, I know. But that don’t excuse what I said. Any of it. I’m sorry. It took me three weeks an’ Mac tellin’ me off to pull my head out of the mud, but I’m sorry for treatin’ ya that way.”
For a moment, Rainbow stared. Her lips pressed together in a thin line. Several times she opened her mouth as if to say something, but thought better and closed it again.
The bell chimed, then the twin doors opened to reveal a tiny compartment and a young stallion in a colorful hotel uniform. “What floor, ladies?” he asked as they entered.
“Top floor,” Rainbow replied. “Wonderbolt team reservation. And guest,” she added before he could question Applejack’s presence.
He nodded once, then pulled the lever to take them to the top. Applejack could feel her hooves leaving ground level as they slowly climbed. In the back of her mind, she longed for something natural to walk on. A nice mountain would be acceptable, if they had to be higher up.
To her left, Rainbow heaved a sigh and hung her head low. “I really thought I messed up after I left,” she said softly. “Every time I thought about writing, I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t even sure if you’d want to read it in a letter.”
Applejack winced. “I can’t say I’m the best at dealin’ with my temper, so I can’t hold that against you. But I did feel a mite upset not to hear anything for so long.”
“I guess that just makes us both idiots, doesn’t it?”
The bell chimed again, then the doors opened a second afterward. Applejack turned to fix her with a crooked smile. “Meh,” she said. “Long as we get back together and patch up after a fight, I ain’t gonna complain.”
Laughing, Rainbow laid a wing across her back and guided her out of the elevator, then turned left down the hall. When they were far enough away that the attendant wouldn’t hear, she leaned in close and muttered, “Still, I did say I would help out and I didn’t.”
“Dash, leave it.” Applejack shook her head, her smile faltering. “It ain’t a big deal.”
“It is. I said I’d be there and I wasn’t because of a tour. I should’ve checked the dates before answering.”
Well, yes, that would have been nice, whispered Applejack’s pragmatic side.
Then her considering side retorted, Rainbow’s dreams were never to buck apples.
Applejack stopped in her tracks. Yes, having Rainbow around was great, an extra set of hooves always was. But she had a career with the Wonderbolts, something she’d always wanted.
A career, as Applejack herself had pointed out, wouldn’t last forever. Five to seven years was average, generous with Rainbow’s crash record.
But who was to say she couldn’t push it passed a decade? More importantly ...
Who could tell her not to try?
“AJ?” Rainbow called, prodding her shoulder gently. “You home? Blink twice if I’m a featherbrained moron.”
“That ain’t even a question, ya featherbrained moron.”
“Oh, hey, you’re alive. I was starting to wonder if you’d fallen asleep in mid flight for a minute.”
Rolling her eyes, Applejack shook her head. “No, I was thinkin’ a minute. Ya might try it sometime.”
That got a response. Rainbow fixed her with glare and rustled her wings. “Har har, you’re hilarious. So what’s on your mind? How much trouble I’m in for missing out on Zap Apple season?”
“No already. Do you listen when I talk?”
“Yeah, but do you? I said I felt bad about it. So … I mean, I can’t help now, but I could always see about putting in for next year.”
Again, Applejack sighed. “Dash, no.”
“I’m serious!” Rainbow cut across her. “If I put in with enough time and use my leave—”
Oh, hay no. “Don’t be an idiot, you’re not using leave to work on the farm!”
“But—”
For the second time since their reunion, Applejack placed a hoof over Rainbow’s mouth. “No. You listen to me for a minute.” She took a deep breath and said, “If it works out and you get time, I’d be happy to have your help. But you’re not skipping out on the Wonderbolts for the farm, y’hear?”
Rainbow blinked. One of her ears perked up, the other laid flat.
Cute, really. “Remember what I said about what Twi an’ I found out? How Wonderbolts didn’t tend to last long?” At Rainbow’s wince and glance down, she maneuvered her hoof to cup her chin. “Don’t waste it. I don’t care if ya last five years or twenty, just come home after your shows. An’ when you’re done, the farm’ll be waitin’.” Applejack smiled. “If ya don’t, well, then I’ll have to tie your sorry behind up and mail ya to Spitfire.”
She watched the realization dawn on Rainbow in slow motion. Red-purple eyes went wide, her ears stood up, beautiful blue feathers fluffed and wings flared wide.
And a smile that could’ve lit up the darkest night spread across her face.
Then Applejack found herself caught in a hug so tight it would’ve made Pinkie proud. “You’re the best, Applejack!”
“Nah, I’ve just got the right folks around me,” she replied, grinning like a fool as she reared up to return the embrace. The shift made her saddlebags jostle and bottles clink like muted chimes.
Rainbow stiffened. “Uh, AJ?”
“Huh?”
Slowly, Rainbow drew back and aimed a pointed look at her saddlebags. “The hay are you carrying in those? I thought it was, like, stuff for staying overnight earlier, but … what? Did you hit up a liquor store in case I told you to take a hike?”
Applejack laughed nervously and rubbed at the back of her head. “Uh, sorta but not really?”
A single blue eyebrow arched. Rainbow rolled a hoof in a forward circle.
Her ears pinning back, Applejack opened one of her saddlebags to reveal a bottle of Sweet Apple Acres cider. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Rainbow’s jaw drop.
“Is that … where did you—”
“Liquor store,” Applejack mumbled. “Figured I’d bring it and give it to ya if you were mad instead of flowers or somethin’. But when you weren’t, it sorta slipped my mind.” She sniffed. “Guess there ain’t much use for it now.”
A glint shone in Rainbow’s eyes. “Well, I wouldn’t say that,” she drawled.
“Huh?”
“Well …” Rainbow released Applejack from her embrace and walked a slow circle around her, trailing her soft primaries across her back and shoulders before wrapping a wing around her once more. “I went from being afraid my girlfriend didn’t want to talk to me to seeing her in the crowd out of the blue, then having a chat about things after she came all the way out here in the middle of Zap Apple season to see me, and she told me that she wanted me to keep being a Wonderbolt as long as I could. And just to top it off, she brought me cider to sweeten the deal.” With a quick jerk of her wing, Rainbow pulled Applejack in until they were nose to nose. “How many bottles do you have?”
“T-Two,” Applejack stammered.
“Kinda light, we might need some more.”
Licking her lips, Applejack said, “Well … I’m pretty sure I could find the place if you want.”
Rainbow paused in thought, then pulled a face. “Meh, we’ll see where the night takes us.” Waggling her ears, she waved a dirty gold key beneath Applejack’s nose. “But I’ve got one place in mind.” Without turning, she unlocked the door and pushed it open, then all but picked Applejack off the ground and pulled her inside with a single flap of her powerful wings, kicking the door closed with an afterthought.
Little else mattered. They had three weeks of time together to make up.
And two bottles of cider to polish off, of course.
