Bump bump bump bump bump.
Bump bump bump bump bump.
The ridges in the road thudded in Sunset’s ears as she slowed for the stop sign. Her motorcycle quieted, and on came the dreaded quiet. Quiet meant no distractions, and she really wanted some distractions right now. She wasted no time on coming to a full stop; the instant she knew no other vehicles were coming, she hit the gas and took the left turn.
Trees flashed by, brilliant greens just beginning to gain the yellows, oranges and reds of autumn. Every now and then there would be a house, usually with a big yard behind a fence. Sometimes she’d spot a few kids playing the yards through the corner of her helmet, and she slowed down a little. She’d hate to ruin anyone’s last opportunity for fun before school started next week.
School. Maybe that’s what Applejack wanted. All day long. Just talk about school.
Right. That sounded too stupid even to her.
No, she had to stop thinking about the why. ‘Why’ wasn’t important until Applejack offered it. Stop thinking. Just listen to the noise of the bike, watch the road, make sure no dumb ten-year-olds ran out in front of her. Apparently, high speed vehicles attracted children like those little hanging zap thingies attracted flies.
Yeah, she really paid attention to those kids, now.
The last house disappeared. The familiar path curved into some hills. Sunset gunned the bike to enjoy the tingle of fast slopes in her stomach. There came the familiar white gate, and she resisted the urge to groan. No more distractions; time to see why Applejack had invited her to Sweet Apple Acres. She slowed down and turned onto the dirt road, carefully weaving past potholes and mud puddles. Rarity would have complained—no, don’t think about Rarity.
Rainbow might have—
That wasn’t any better! Sunset knew she was just being paranoid. She had to get these ideas out of her head. Applejack was being friendly, like always. It was just her wonderful way. The fact that none of the others were coming didn’t mean a thing. Sunset should stop thinking stupid thoughts!
The big red barn and the farmhouse came into view at last, seeming to tower over the apple trees. The place always felt so strange to Sunset. Old like Canterlot, but homely like nothing Sunset had known before in her personal life, here or in Equestria. She always liked visiting Sweet Apple Acres. It was a warm spot, peaceful and welcoming.
Sunset had never come here alone before, as the sight of the Apple Family loading their pickup truck reminded her. The truck bed was loaded to the brim with brightly colored boxes, undoubtedly full of apples, and Big Mac was just getting into the driver’s seat as Sunset stopped the bike at the corner of the barn. She could see the top of Applejack's hat over the truck's cab.
Bump bump bump bump bump.
“Shut up, heart,” she mumbled before pulling her helmet off. She returned Apple Bloom’s wave, then frowned as the girl hopped into the truck’s passenger seat. Granny Smith was right behind her. The doors closed, the engine revved, and off they went, leaving Applejack behind. She approached at a leisurely pace while Sunset took her dime dismounting and setting the stand on her bike.
Don’t stare. Don’t stare. Do not stare. Sunset did her level best not to think about why Applejack chose to wear those snug jeans and the red, button-up shirt that looked so unexpectedly nice on her. Who’d have ever thought AJ and red would work so well together?
Right. Apples. Duh.
She got her first look at that sun-kissed face and felt her knees wobble just a little. Keep it together, Sunset. She didn’t ask you here for that.
“Afternoon, Sunset.” Applejack had her hands behind her back and her eyes didn’t quite meet Sunset’s. Her smile was slightly tilted. “You’re a little early.”
Catching the anxiousness in her voice, Sunset offered a smile of her own. “I might have gone a little too fast coming here.”
Applejack chuckled, and Sunset was taken aback by how pleasant it sounded. Not that she hadn’t noticed before, it was just one of those things that caught her attention. Frequently. She had to remind herself that this had nothing to do with… that.
“I’d give ya a lecture on that kind of thing, but y’all’d probably ignore it.”
Sunset cringed. That was bad, wasn’t it? She didn’t seem too bothered, but… yeah, probably bad that her friend thought she wouldn’t listen. “Y-you can. If you want. I mean, I don’t mind.”
“It’s alright, sugarcube.” Applejack paused, smile shrinking just a touch. She recovered before Sunset could ask any questions. “Now come on, I had a day planned for us here on the farm. You ever baked an apple pie before?”
Sunset stared at her crooked grin. Apple pies? Was that what she’d asked her here for? “I, uh, can’t say I have.”
Sunset eyed the fruit hanging above her head. “I thought we were baking pies?”
“We need apples, first.” Applejack leaned against the tree and tipped her hat back. Spots of sunlight danced along her exposed skin and hair, making her appear to glow. It was a sight far too pleasant to ignore, but that’s exactly what Sunset tried to do. Just like she tried to ignore how Applejack’s pose accentuated the curve of her hips. Even Fluttershy couldn’t—
Not thinking about Fluttershy now. Apples. Focus on apples. “Don’t you have plenty of apples back at the barn we could use?”
“Sure, but we ain’t gonna.” Applejack’s smile grew, and there was now a playful glint in her eye. “You want a pie? You get the apples for it yourself.”
Sunset bit her lip to keep from mentioning that this was all Applejack’s idea. Once sure she was in control of her snark, she said, “If you say so, but this seems a little pointless.”
Setting hands to her hips, Sunset stared at the apples dangling just out of her reach. She considered jumping, but an image of her looking like a fool in front of the experienced (Experienced?—shut up, brain!) farmer nipped that idea in the bud. “So… how do I get them?”
Still leaning against the tree, Applejack raised her hand palm-up, then gave the trunk a single, light kick. Not a second later, a fresh red apple landed in her waiting hand. Her wry eyes didn’t leave Sunset the entire time.
Sunset blinked, looked at the limbs above, then gaped at her friend’s freshly acquired fruit. “How?” She’d heard the rumors, but thought they were just that.
“Years of practice.” Applejack rubbed the apple against her shirt as if to shine it, then casually dropped it into a nearby wicker basket. “One down. Need two more. I’ll get the other, so you only gotta get one.”
“B-but… I don’t… I can’t…”
“Wanna try?” Applejack stepped away from the tree and gestured with a flourish at the trunk. “Go on, give it a kick.”
This was going to go poorly, Sunset knew it as sure as she knew she hated bricklaying. But she’d just been challenged, hadn’t she? Rainbow Dash always liked it when she accepted a challenge, and Applejack was a little like Rainbow.
No, no, no! No comparing her to Rainbow Dash! Or Fluttershy, for that matter. Applejack is attractive for all her own reasons. She took in the curve of that body. So many reasons…
“Uh, sugarcube?”
Staring! Staring not good! “Okay! L-let’s try this.”
Sunset straightened her back, set her shoulders and stepped up to the tree, only to realize she had no idea what she was doing. Her gaze lingered on the trunk. Was she supposed to hit it in a specific spot? She glanced down at her grey boots, boots that didn’t look half as sturdy as Applejack’s. She lifted her leg… put it back down, lifted it again. “So…”
Leaning back a little, she gave the trunk a kick so hard it sent a jolt up her leg and into her thigh. Worse, it made her sprawl backwards. With a yelp, she waved her arms and tried to regain her balance. It was too late, and she closed her eyes in preparation for the intense mortification that was about to come.
Instead, she landed in the soft but firm hold of Applejack. “Heh, not a bad try for a rookie. What’s say we do that again?”
Sunset’s cheeks burned, and it had nothing to do with her shameful display. Applejack’s arms around her midsection felt so very good, and the sensation of… her against the back of her head…
Bump bump bump bump bump.
A glimpse up was rewarded with a glorious, freckled face smiling down at her. And those wonderful green eyes…
Applejack glanced away. “Uh… You can’t exactly kick a tree like this.”
“Right!” Sunset straightened up with what she hoped was a convincing laugh. Applejack had not been blushing just now and Sunset was not going to fantasize about it. “S-so how do I do this?”
Did Applejack just breathe a sigh of relief?
No fantasizing!
“Let’s get your posture right, first.” Applejack stood beside her and angled herself so her side was to the tree, legs shoulder-width apart. “Get like this, balance low and as even as you can get it.”
Feeling more than a little silly, Sunset copied the pose. “Like this?”
“Close. Here.”
Her hands were on Sunset, touching and prodding and pushing. Sunset bit her tongue and wished she knew how it was Rarity could fight an oncoming blush. That would be a really good skill to have right now. Sunset held her breath and let Applejack mold her into the proper poise, doing her level best not to think about the places those hands could go if she shifted just a little. Maybe if she messed it up a few times on purpose—
Stop. Bad brain!
“Okay, that’ll about do it.” Applejack stepped back and returned to the ready pose. Her fingers were wriggling against her palms. Sunset hoped it was because of the feel of her jacket and not, say, a dislike of touching her at all. “Now, I’m gonna go slow. Try and match me.”
Her knee raised, then her perfectly shaped (I’m warning you, brain!) leg came out until the boot tapped the tree. It all happened with such slowness that Sunset marveled at the fine muscle control. Rainbow was fast and strong, but there was no way she’d have been able to move with that kind of grace. With a wobbling balance, Sunset copied the motion as closely as she could until her boot tapped the tree. “That was terrible, wasn’t it?”
“Heh, I’ve seen worse.”
Sunset felt a heat rising in her chest as if she’d swallowed a hot air balloon. “Really?”
“Really. Y'all should’ve seen Rarity try it the first time.” Chuckling, Applejack repeated the motion with just as much care and precision as before. “Go on, try again.”
She was better than Rarity. Sunset wasn’t sure how much of a compliment that might be, all things considered. She mimicked the motion once again, but felt no closer to success. “One more time?”
“Reckon it’ll take more than that.” Applejack demonstrated again, and this time Sunset focused very closely on the exact motions of not just her leg, but also her hips and upper body. There was a balancing act on display here, a demonstration of fine control. For once, her study had nothing to do with ogling; she wanted to get this right.
So she tried, and tried, and tried again. For over an hour, Sunset kept working to match Applejack’s form. As she mimicked the motions more and more closely, Applejack performed them gradually faster. She gave a long lecture about how posture led to strength in the kick and how certain muscles were important for the task. Sunset relished every minute. She was learning something new, and that always kept her spirits up.
Abruptly, Applejack stood up straight. It was her first time leaving the pose since they'd started in earnest. “Y’know what? I think you’ve got it. Go ahead and give the tree a proper kick.”
“W-what? Now?” Sunset paused to stand up straight and flex her legs; how in Equestria did Applejack manage to stay like that for over an hour and not end up sore? “I’m not sure.”
“I bet you do can do it.” Crossing her arms and flashing an encouraging smile, Applejack nodded towards the tree. “Go on, give it a try. Remember, not too hard. Don’t wanna break those fine legs of yours.”
Fine legs? Applejack thinks I have fine legs!
Not now, brain.
Sunset cast a glance at the tree, then at the branches above. Recalling everything that she’d learned and hoping she didn’t look like a complete idiot, she gave the trunk a solid kick. She felt the vibrations of the impact run up her leg, but not enough to hurt or unbalance her this time. Her eyes darted up to the shivering fruit, hoping at least one would prove as susceptible to gravity as her stomach did right about now.
There came the faintest snap, and a lone apple dropped. Sunset gasped, tried to catch it, missed. Her hands fumbled at the air frantically before, bent over with one leg out for balance, she saved the apple from a grassy fate. The bright red fruit almost seemed to gleam in the sunlight.
“I did it.” Her lips parted in a grin as she bounced back and displayed her prize above her head. “I did it!”
Applejack matched her expression, freckled cheeks a bright pink. “Heh, that you did, sugarcube. Feels good, don’t it?”
“It does. It really does.” Sunset cradled the apple in her hands as if it were an infant in need to tenderness. She felt bubbly and wanted to jump, but restrained her enthusiasm; explaining pronking to Applejack might just ruin the mood. “I wanna do it again!”
With a chuckle, Applejack stood back and gestured to the tree. “What’s stopping ya?”
What indeed? Sunset promptly assumed the position she’d been trained into and gave the tree another kick. Her excitement faded when she looked up to find none of the fruit falling. “What? But I did it just like before.”
“Did you?” Applejack’s smirk was back in force. “Were you paying attention to yourself when you did it?”
“I…” A pause. A glance at the apple in her hand. A pout. “I guess not.” She sucked in a deep breath and regained her smile. She’d just have to do it correctly this time. Sunset took care with her poise and tried a third kick. The tree shivered, quivered… and another apple dropped into her waiting hand. “Hah!”
“And now we’ve got three apples, enough to make ourselves a proper pie.” Applejack picked the wicker basket up and held it out invitingly, and Sunset put her glorious harvest within. Staring at the three apples, knowing that she’d figured out the trick Applejack had mastered… it made her feel warm. She’d learned something, something that C.H.S. couldn’t offer her. Of course, C.H.S. didn’t have much to offer a former student of Princess Celestia.
The knowledge that she was learning again sent pleasant tingles up Sunset’s spine, but that wasn’t all she felt. Did Applejack feel this good every day she harvested apples? Probably not, but it was still a pleasant idea. “Why stop at three?”
Applejack tucked the basket under one arm. “Because this ain’t the only thing I wanted to do with ya today. Gotta admit, though, it’s nice y’all like apple harvesting so much.” She abruptly glanced away and muttered something under her breath, face tense. Sunset wondered what had crossed her mind, but didn’t get an opportunity to ask before Applejack was walking for the farmhouse at a fast walk. “What’s say we head inside and get to work on that pie?”
Sunset held back to look up at the apples overhead one more time. She turned slowly, taking in the vast orchard and its bountiful produce. So many trees. So many apples. To spend all day out here in the sunshine with Applejack, working up a sweat, doing something meaningful, knowing the reward was worth it. And to hear that lovely drawl…
Bump bump bump bump bump.
“Y’all coming, Sunset?”
“Be right there!”
Flour covered Sunset’s upper body. Her arms were sore from constantly stirring, mixing and rolling. She felt like taking her pin and smashing a few pie pans with it, but she settled for trying to get the pie crust to the right thickness – again.
One good thing had come out of the last hour: Applejack was also covered in flour and dough, yet she never stopped smiling. Somehow, seeing the farm girl all messy and icky like that helped to keep Sunset’s spirits high – well, higher. She was especially fond of the dollop of dough dangling from the hat. Applejack apparently hadn’t noticed it yet, and this amused Sunset to no end.
“I think you’re gonna get it this time,” Applejack said as she finished peeling the apples. She could have done that ages ago, but she’d been devoting all her attention to helping Sunset get the pie crust made. “It’s got the right stretchiness and everything.”
Stretchiness? Was that a technical term? “I hope you’re right,” Sunset grumbled, rolling the pin back and forth and trying not to think of the ache in her elbows. “I thought making pies was supposed to be easy. How could someone ruin the dough recipe four times?”
“Now, don’t be hard on yourself, sugarcube. The crust is always the hardest part to get right.” Applejack grabbed a waiting knife and began slicing the apples. “You keep trying until your patience bears fruit. Ain’t no tree that grew apples in a day. That should be good, go ahead and put it in the tin.”
Sunset set the pin aside and rubbed her arms. Did the Apples cook like this on a daily basis? How did they keep their arms from falling off? Then again, this was better than Rainbow’s microwave meals and energy drinks. Fluttershy’s sandwiches had been okay, if uninteresting. Rarity was a pretty decent cook, but she was too much of a control freak and never let Sunset help.
Come to think of it, this was Sunset’s first foray into the world of cooking in any form that didn’t involve a microwave or pre-cooked ingredients. She hoped Applejack was right about the fruits of her labors. If this turned out poorly she might never attempt to cook again. Then again, she wasn’t doing this alone. Cooking with Applejack? Sunset eyed the blonde beauty, who was too busy mixing the sliced apples into some sweet-smelling mixture to notice. She was bent over the table just slightly, her ponytail seeming to point directly at her…
Sunset admired the view with a sly smile. Yeah, it might be worth the embarrassment.
Applejack straightened up. “Alright, then.” Sunset’s eyes snapped back to the pie crust. “I got our filling ready. You like to do the honors?”
Chewing the inside of her cheek, Sunset accepted the bowl and mixing spoon. “So… just pour it in? Don’t you want to check the crust first?”
“Don’t y’all fret none.” Applejack leaned against the table with her arms crossed, that lone bit of dough dangling next to her ear. How could she make flour and dough look good? That smile and those freckles probably had something to do with it. “I know enough about baking pies to tell ya it’s alright.”
“Well, okay.” Sunset dumped the golden mixture into the pie tin, moving slowly and scraping the filling out with the spoon. She bent herself at an awkward angle trying to hold the bowl in the crook of her arm, see inside of it, dig out the remaining filling and keep it over the target. There had to be an easier way than this. At last, she got most of the filling transferred.
Applejack chuckled as she took the bowl and spoon. “That wasn’t so terrible, now was it?” She stuck her finger in the bowl, retrieved a dollop of leftover filling, then sucked it off. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, and Sunset was momentarily mesmerized by the sight of puckered lips and a flicking tongue.
Bump bump bump bump bump.
Sweet Celestia’s molten flanks! This has to be some kind of torture.
“That’s good stuff. Go ahead and put the top part of the crust on there.”
Sunset snapped out of her goggling reverie as the words punched through her mind. “Oh, no. No, no, no.” She waved her hands and stepped away from the table. “I’m liable to mess this part up bad, and this time you’ve got the filling already in there.”
She’d apparently said or done something wrong. Applejack’s eyes narrowed into a hawkish gaze and her smile faded. “What are you talking about? This is your pie, you should give it the finishing touch.”
Not sure exactly what had triggered Applejack, Sunset fidgeted and eyed the remaining circle of crust. “You made the filling. Isn’t that, like, four-fifths of the task right there?”
Applejack hmm-ed, but didn’t lose her critical look. “Okay, our pie, even if you’ve way overstated how hard it is making the filling. It ain’t hard to put the upper crust on a pie.”
Sunset had to admit her abrupt fear was probably ridiculous. At the same time, if she messed up something as ‘ain’t hard’ as putting some pie dough on top of some filling, she might just buck the soul from humiliation. The stuff wasn’t exactly tough, and with how many times she’d messed up just making it…
“Come on, sugarcube, it’s easy. Here.” Applejack’s hardness faded as fast as it came. She took Sunset’s hand in her own – Bump bump bump bump bump! – and guided it so it was palm up by the dough. “Now just take it with your other hand and ease it on there.”
With cheeks capable of heating an oven, Sunset pulled the dough gently over her palm. As Applejack gave her encouragement that seemed inordinately silly given the task at hand, she used her fingers to pin the dough in place on a corner of the pie. Then she carefully slid her hand out from underneath, letting the dough rest on the filling.
“There, see? Nothing to it. Now just press the crust in a little…” Applejack squeezed the dough and the tin between her fingers at the edge, sealing the upper crust to the bottom. “Now you try.”
The patience Applejack displayed towards Sunset’s ignorance was admirable at the very least. As Sunset worked the dough carefully, going all the way around the pie, she wondered about Applejack’s tolerance. She’d recognized it before, of course. It was one of those things that had caught her attention the most, not unlike how it had made her look at Fluttershy once. But this was a different kind of patience. She knew Applejack had limits, boundaries to not be crossed, set intentions. Back in the bad days, Sunset would walk all over Fluttershy for her patience. That never would have worked with Applejack.
Which made it all the more appealing now. Especially after dealing with Rainbow and Rarity.
Thinking about it again. Not good. Sunset chased the birds and bees away and focused on her task, finally finishing the circuit around the pie. “Alright, I guess that wasn’t anywhere as bad as I expected.” She cast a nervous glance at Applejack, looking for any sign of disapproval. “What’s next?”
Applejack smiled that lovely, ever-patient smile of hers and revealed a kitchen knife she’d retrieved while Sunset wasn’t looking. “Now we let the pie breathe.”
Sunset raised an eyebrow at this, but nonetheless accepted the offered blade. “Breathe?”
“Yep. Just cut four or five slices in the top. Little ones.”
“Oh… okay.” Simple enough. As she set about the task, Sunset asked, “Y’know, I’ve noticed the holes in the pies, but never understood why they’re there.”
Applejack leaned against the table and crossed her flour-coated arms. “It lets the steam out. Otherwise the crust’ll inflate like one of Pinkie Pie’s balloons, which can cause all sorts of problems.” Once Sunset was finished and the knife set aside, Applejack tipped her head towards the oven, the dangling dough almost slapping against her ear. “She’s ready to go. Just put it in there and set the timer for an hour.”
That seemed a little long, but Sunset wasn’t about to argue with the expert. With the pie set to bake, she turned to eye the mess they’d made of the kitchen. Or rather, the mess she’d made. “I guess the next step is to clean all this up, huh?”
“Ya guessed right.” Applejack glanced at Sunset’s face and put a hand on her shoulder. “Now don’t go looking like that. Everyone makes a mess in the kitchen when they ain’t used to it. Once ya’ve made a dozen pies on your own, you’ll never have to worry about that kind of thing again.”
That sounded okay, but only if Sunset were making those future pies here. Or wherever her teacher happened to be, really. The two set to work cleaning the dishes and getting rid of the flour, wasted dough and unused ingredients. With two of them present and Applejack’s lifetime knowledge of where things belonged, it didn’t take half as long as Sunset had feared.
They were still coated in flour and dough themselves, though, so she used the bathroom sink to wash herself off while Applejack did the same upstairs. There was nothing to be done about the clothes, but Applejack let Sunset borrow a shirt. A white one that buttoned up and had a stiff collar, suggesting it was new. Strangely enough, it was made of silk. She’d never imagined Applejack would have something like that in her wardrobe, but Sunset had to admit it went well with her jeans. At least those cleaned up easily; the last thing she wanted was to wear oversized pants and look all frumpy in Applejack's presence.
While the pie continued to bake, Applejack – now sporting an orange dress shirt that might have suited her even better than the red one – decided she wanted to do something in the barn. As the two walked outside, Sunset had a curious thought: What are we doing? “AJ?”
“Yep?”
“Why exactly are we doing all of this?”
Applejack slowed down, face scrunching up as if she’d just had one of Rarity’s hors d’oeuvres and it vehemently disagreed with her taste buds. “Uh, what do ya mean?”
“Nothing, I suppose.” Sunset shrugged, hands in her pockets and eyes on the sky. It was well into the afternoon by now, closing in on evening. “It’s just, when you said you wanted to spend the day with me here, I didn’t really know what to expect. Apple harvesting? Baking a pie? Something to do with the barn?” Applejack chose that moment to push open the barn’s sliding door. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind helping out around here, but I feel like I’m missing something.”
“Oh, you are.”
Sunset’s eyes returned to her friend’s backside. A chill ran down her spine. Not what you're thinking! “Pardon?”
Applejack turned to her, hands on hips as she put on a smug smile. “There is a point, and I promise it’s a good one. Bear with me, sugarcube. It’ll all makes sense by the end of the day.”
Applejack was nothing if not honest, so all Sunset could do was shrug and say, “If you say so.”
“I do.” Tipping her hat, Applejack turned back to the barn door. “Now, let’s make use of those arm muscles.”
Arm muscles? Sunset took a moment to feel at her arms as she followed. She tried to keep fit, but she didn’t have half the muscle Applejack did.
Her attention was drawn to the interior of the barn, which was illuminated only by the thin lines of light that cut through the dusty air. The scent of hay was overpowering and, if Sunset were honest, a little enticing. Best not mention that, though; did she really want to have to explain how she’d grown up eating the stuff? Or that on extremely rare occasions she’d buy a small bag of oats and eat them like cereal? Yeah, not the most attractive thing to bring up in this world.
“We got a few things that need moving.” Applejack stopped next to an old grey ATV. The thing had a beat up wooden trailer hitched to the back. Sunset moved in to investigate and wondered how the trailer held anything at all with its cracked boards and missing tailgate.
Is this thing even road legal? She was afraid to touch it for fear of splinters. “And what, exactly, are we moving?”
Applejack counted off on her fingers. “Two hay blocks, a table, a car battery, and a storage chest.”
Sunset stared at her. “That’s a strange list.”
Back came the smirk. “It’ll make sense, I promise. Besides…” Applejack leaned forward to look Sunset in the eyes, the proximity yet again triggering a fire in her cheeks. “Don’t y’all think the potential reward is worth it?”
That one brought about another raised eyebrow. “It might if I knew what the reward was.”
Applejack stood straight once more, twirling a finger in the air. “Have to disagree with ya there. The expectation of a reward alone can be plenty.”
Sunset placed her hands behind her back and glanced away. “And if that promise were to go unfulfilled?”
“Stop working for the no good liar, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Sighing, Sunset raised her hands in defeat. “Alright, AJ, I’ll play along. But this is getting real confusing real quick.”
“I’m sure it is, but trust me; it’ll be worth it.”
And Applejack winked. Freckles, a smile and a wink.
Bump bump bump bump bump.
Maybe that was the reward. Sunset wasn’t sure if she could complain.
Everything was in the trailer, which miraculously managed to hold all the weight. Sunset was thankful it was the start of autumn instead of summer. Oh, she’d come out of it with a little sweat, but nowhere near what she might have. She’d have felt guilty if she’d ruined the silk shirt. Then again, would Applejack even care?
With the task complete, Sunset leaned against the ATV and wiped her brow. The job had taken nearly an hour-and-a-half, part of that being because of the need to get the pie out of the oven and the other because of the contortion act needed to get everything on the small trailer. It would have been nice to have tasted the pie, but Applejack had insisted it needed time to cool first.
“Everything’s on,” she said, turning to Applejack. “I suppose now you want to deliver this stuff?”
“You suppose right. But, uh, I gotta get one more thing. Give me a minute.” Without waiting for an answer, Applejack hurried back to the house.
Frowning, Sunset distracted herself with a look at the trailer’s contents. The table was a small, round thing made of metal and wood. Getting it onto the trailer had been easy, but fitting things around it? Not so much. The hay blocks had been trickier, as they had to somehow squeeze in around the table. That had required some teamwork. Simple enough to lift, not simple to maneuver. The storage box had been the heaviest of all the items, being made of solid wood, but at least it was empty. The car battery was sandwiched between everything, and Sunset still didn’t understand why Applejack wouldn’t let her put it in the storage box.
“Aaand here we go.”
The storage box opened, and Sunset jumped. Applejack was bending over to put something large into it. The glorious view of her backside was enough to distract Sunset from asking the obvious questions. She turned away quickly to avoid being caught in the act, tugging on her shirt in hopes of cooling off a little. “W-what was that you put in the box?”
“Never you mind.” The lid closed with a thunk. Applejack appeared at Sunset’s side, pausing upon seeing what Sunset knew were flushed cheeks. “You okay, sugarcube?”
“O-of course. Never better!” Sunset laughed, hoping it didn’t sound too forced. “Everything’s loaded, right? Where are we going with all that?” Despite Applejack’s knitted brow and concerned eyes, she did her best to smile and look innocent. Or perhaps ignorant. Yes, ignorant would be less suspicious. If the farmer stared for much longer, though, Sunset feared she might crack under the pressure.
Finally, Applejack shrugged and turned for the ATV. Sunset slouched forward and exhaled a long and slow breath, the tension melting from her body now that she was out from under those eyes.
“We’re headed for the Western Fields. Hop on, it’s a long ways.”
The tension shot back into Sunset. She jerked ramrod straight to stare at Applejack straddling the vehicle.
Bump bump bump bump bump.
“Oh. Maybe I sh-should ride my bike?” She cast her thumb over her shoulder. Away from the ATV and the blonde fox sitting upon it.
“Are you kidding? That thing would never take the terrain.” Applejack patted the seat behind her. “Hop on.”
Bump bump bump bump bump!
“L-look, I’m getting, uh… hungry. And if it’ll take a while—”
An insidious smirk formed on Applejack’s lips. “Y’all mean to tell me you ride that dangerous motorcycle all over the highways and you’re too scared to ride a four-wheeler?”
Sunset tensed. The heat that rose up her back and into her face had an entirely different ignition source from the rest of the day’s fires. “Did you just call me ‘scared’?”
“Ain’t nothing to be ashamed of.” Applejack tipped her hat back, looking every bit like she’d just won some sort of game and needed to rub it in. “Plenty of folks are afraid of the adrenaline rush these things can offer. Why, Rarity’s sister Sweetie’s plum terrified!”
Fists clenched. Shoulders stiffened. Sunset knew she was being played, but curse those pretty green eyes, she was not about to be compared to a child! She stomped for the ATV and climbed on, grasping the bars on the back of the vehicle and trying not to think about where her bottom half was positioned. “Let’s go.”
The smugness of Applejack’s glance was nearly enough to set Sunset’s hair on fire. “Ya plan on holding on like that? ‘Cause—”
“Let’s go.”
She chuckled and turned forward once more. “Alright, if you insist.”
The ATV kicked on in an instant, and Sunset had no chance to prepare. Her arms jolted from the force she had to exert to stay on. The roaring engine muffled her startled cry, but there was no way Applejack hadn’t heard it. The devilish girl ran the ATV like Rainbow Dash might have, and they tore out of the barn at a pace that got Sunset’s heart cutting flips. She grit her teeth at Applejack’s laughter.
“See, girl? Nothing to it!”
Sunset was tempted to pull Applejack’s hat off – How is that thing still attached to her head? – and slap her across the skull. If only she could tell her that her original fear had nothing to do with the ATV and everything to do with the feeling of their legs pressing together. Which does feel nice. Too bad she was too busy holding on for dear life. She liked it better when she drove!
Mercifully, they slowed to more reasonable speeds upon reaching the less stable paths of the orchards. Applejack glanced back at her, her devilish smile having faded for something a bit more soothing. “Now hold on the right way.”
What in Celestia’s name was with Sunset’s cheeks today? “What do you mean?” Not that you don’t know.
Applejack rolled her eyes. “Put your arms around me! Lands sakes, you’re liable to break your arms that way unless I move at Tank’s pace. I wanna get there before sundown, not sunup.”
Suppressing a groan, Sunset did as she was told. Her arms slipped around a waist that was a lot smaller than she would have expected considering Applejack’s relative size. Still a lot bigger than Rarity. Or Fluttershy. Definitely bigger than Rainbow.
No. Don’t think about them.
Too late. Sunset chewed her lip, silently wondering what it would be like to rest her cheek on that sturdy shoulder. Like Rarity had done when we rode on my bike together. Horseapples, I really shouldn’t be thinking about things like that! “How long is it to the Western Fields?”
“At a decent speed? About an hour.”
Sunset swallowed the lump in her throat and did her best not to squeeze too tightly. But the feel of Applejack’s back against her, the heat of their bodies…
Bump bump bump bump bump.
This is going to be a long trip.
Sunset thought it would never end. The warmth of their closeness, the curious and wonderful apple scent that wafted from that blonde hair, the feel of her arms around a toned waist. Every minute was beautiful and torturous in equal measure, and Sunset cursed her immature pride for putting her in this situation. She’d forced herself to think about Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash and Rarity, each a disaster of her own making. And if she let her impulses get the best of her, this would be one too.
So she thought about them. She thought about them hard. As the ATV passed through long, quiet stretches of orchard that threatened to let her focus on the loveliness of the moment and place, she thought of Fluttershy running away in tears. With every bump and skip of rough terrain grinding their bodies together, she recalled the pointless pain and sweat of struggling to keep up with Rainbow. And when she started getting comfortable against Applejack’s backside, she remembered the complacency that had blinded her to Rarity’s doubts.
Every recollection was a stab in the chest, but Sunset endured. She had to. It would be far better to suffer those memories than to risk Applejack becoming just another one.
At last, blessedly, they rolled to a gentle stop. Sunset raised her head and gazed upon a small gazebo on a hill. All wooden and unpainted, it rose just slightly taller than the apple trees surrounding it. She looked around the area, but saw nothing save orachard. Why were they moving all these random things here?
Applejack shifted. Her hands touching Sunset’s. Was that hesitation? No, Sunset’s overeager imagination was getting away with her. She thought about the past and shoved the idea aside as firmly as she could.
“Alright, we’re here.” Applejack climbed off the ATV, and Sunset opined the loss of her body heat. “Now we just gotta move a few things. Help me out, would ya?”
Taking everything out of the trailer proved much easier than putting it in, and the work distracted Sunset from the imminent agony that would be the ride back. They brought the table to the gazebo, placing it in the center, then set the hay blocks down on either side of it. Apparently, they were to act as seats. They were just the right size for it, after all. And… that was it? Applejack grabbed the car battery and set it next to one of the gazebo’s support columns, under which was an empty metal box that the battery fit into easily.
“Don’t worry about the storage box,” Applejack told her while kneeling by the battery and messing with what appeared to be a pair of jumper cables. “We don’t need to move it. Why don’t ya take a seat?”
“Oh. Okay.” Sunset was missing something, she was sure of it. She kept looking around, trying to find the one thing that was missing from this scene, but nothing ever changed. Hesitantly, she sat on one of the hay blocks and rested her arms on the table. She glanced to the west and couldn’t resist a smile.
The gazebo overlooked a long, wide clearing in the woods. There was a tiny cabin, probably only one room, in the corner under the shade of the forest. The sun barely peeked over the treetops, casting the entire area in a warm, orange glow. It had to be one of the most pristine places she’d visited in this world, and for a brief moment she felt as if she might be in Equestria all over again.
Applejack closed the metal box and stood up. She moved slowly into the gazebo, as if each step risked making too much noise. “So… Sunset.” She paused at the table’s side, fidgeting slightly and not meeting her gaze. “You, uh, figure out the theme for today yet?”
At least Sunset wasn’t the only one feeling anxious, although she couldn’t understand why Applejack would. Maybe if she relieved the tension? “Does it have anything to do with apples?”
Her friend’s lower lip pushed out in a pout, but there was amusement in her eyes. “I ain’t all about apples, y’know.”
“Then I’m clueless.” Smiling, Sunset let her eyes drift back to the fading sun. “But I’ll tell you this; you picked a great place to finish the day. The view here is gorgeous.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” Applejack’s eyes didn’t leave her. “Sunsets are always nice to look at.”
Bump bump bump bump bump.
It’s nothing. I just imagined that. Don’t think about it.
A moment of silence passed. Surely it was only tense to her. Applejack wasn’t staring at her, no, she just... happened to be looking in her general direction? Yeah, that’s a lame excuse and you know it.
Mercifully, Applejack moved away, but Sunset didn’t let her guard down. Something was up, and until she knew more—
“The theme was hard work, sugarcube. It's something I expect from...” She trailed off, finishing with only a mumble.
At last tearing her eyes from the oranges and reds of the horizon, Sunset turned her attention to Applejack, who pulled a large ice chest from the storage unit and carried it to the table. “Do you need any help with that?”
“Nope. That would ruin the point.”
“Ruin what point?”
The chest landed on the table, and Applejack promptly pulled out a bottle of cider and two glasses. She didn’t stop there; out came plates, napkins, silverware, a bag of apples, two covered plates of pasta salad, a big tub of what appeared to be soup, some breadsticks, and – what really caught Sunset’s attention – their apple pie. “Dinner for two, complete with your hard work.” Sunset could only stare as the dinner was properly split between them, Applejack setting the scene up with a quickness that spoke of frayed nerves.
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Clasped her hands together in her lap. Her eyes fell to the silk sleeves of her shirt. It wasn’t what she was thinking. Not even close. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it!
Green eyes glanced her way. “You worked hard today, Sunset. You made the apple pie, and now you’re gonna get to enjoy the fruits of your labors. Ya helped me get all this stuff out here, and now ya get a nice meal for two. Ya didn’t know it was coming, but here it is.”
“But—” Sunset licked her lips and steadied her breathing. Don’t look into those eyes. “But I didn’t expect a reward. Well, except maybe the pie.”
“Oh, sure ya did.” Applejack sat opposite her and smiled, and sweet Celestia, it was a good one. “Spending time with me was the reward ya expected, wasn’t it?”
Bump bump bump bump bump.
They gazed at one another, Sunset stiff and Applejack with her chin resting on her palm. At any moment Sunset’s chest would explode thanks to an overburdened heart, because no matter how much she tried to deny it…
“H-how long have you known?”
Applejack shrugged. “Couple weeks. Honestly? Ya ain’t good at hiding it.”
She would be honest, wouldn’t she? Sunset looked down at the pasta set before her, but had no interest in eating. Her stomach had dropped somewhere under the table, and might have squeezed between the cracks in the floorboards to hide under the gazebo itself. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing’s going to come of it.” She squeezed her hands together, not knowing what else to do with them. “This is probably just you trying to find a nice way to let me down. Don’t. I never planned to act on my feelings.”
The sigh from Applejack could have moved the sun. “Yeah, I can see why y’all’d think that. It’s another change in the season, and ya got used to it.”
Sunset’s anxiety faded just a bit as she processed those words. She glanced at the solemn Applejack. “Another change in the season?”
Applejack nodded. Despite everything, she seemed as calm as ever. Sunset might be envious, especially when she thought about how the others had behaved upon realizing Sunset’s feelings.
The farmer spoke when Sunset didn’t. “Winter, right after the Fall Formal? You chased after Fluttershy’s pink head like a lost puppy. You were drawn to her kindness, weren’t ya?”
Fidgeting, Sunset asked, “Are we really doing this?”
“Yep, and I promise there’s a reason.” Applejack gestured to her as if giving her a chance to speak.
So, with a groan and her eyes back on her plate, she did. “I’d been such a horrible person. I thought, if anyone could help me, who better than someone the total opposite of what I’d been? And she was. Fluttershy was so sickeningly, disgustingly sweet. To be honest, being around her so much was a big part of why I started to turn around.”
“And then winter came to an end, and ya finally confessed.”
Her shoulders tensed. She bit her lip and tried to ignore the barely burning coal nudged against her heart. “I made her cry. I can’t believe I made Fluttershy cry. J-just by…”
Applejack leaned forward, concern in her gaze. “It wasn’t your fault. She just isn’t interested in girls, that’s all.”
“But I made her turn me down. I put her in that position.” Sunset tried meeting her gaze, but failed. “Being rejected was one thing, and yeah, it hurt. But knowing that I hurt Fluttershy by making her hurt me is just—”
“These things happen, sugarcube.” Applejack sat back once more and crossed her arms. “Ain’t no point in blaming yourself for things that come natural.” There was a moment’s pause, but just as Sunset was about to argue, “Then, spring came and your eyes roamed. Ya went after the fastest girl at C.H.S. From what I saw, it was a crazy chase.”
With a light huff, Sunset shook her head. “I was stupid. I thought, ‘If the gentle one wasn’t right for me, maybe I’ll do better with someone who’ll hit back when I need it.’ At the time? I really thought I deserved a good hit. Who better than Rainbow Dash to offer it?”
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Did she actually hit ya?”
Despite everything, Sunset smiled. “No, though I bet she wanted to sometimes. But she did challenge me. She challenged me a lot, and I always rose to it, even when it was something I knew I couldn’t do. It was like… punishing myself.”
“And the more she challenged ya, the more heated you two got, the more ya wanted her, right?”
Now it was Sunset’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “You say that as if you have experience.”
Applejack merely smiled – no blush, no anxiousness, just a patient smile.
Okay, now Sunset was envious. She turned her eyes to the horizon – it was really getting dark – and pouted. “Yeah, you’re right. And then I… horseapples, I was so dumb.”
“Apologies, but I gotta agree that kissing someone out of the blue ain’t the smoothest way to confess.”
Sunset closed her eyes and growled even as her cheeks made themselves known. “Don’t remind me. Who’d have thought the school’s premier tomboy wasn’t interested in girls, either?” At least she didn’t cry like Fluttershy had, not that it cooled the red-hot knife that moment had lodged into her heart.
“That was the end of spring,” Applejack said. “Then came summer, and with summer came—”
“Rarity.” Sunset shuddered; that was a vice that hadn’t quite let her go. “I didn’t know what I was getting into. She’d always been ready to help, ready to listen. It was her who helped me smooth things out with Rainbow and Fluttershy.”
“Yeah, I know.” At Sunset’s glance, Applejack shrugged. “What did you expect? We’re best friends, all of us. We were gonna find these things out.”
“I guess that’s true.” Sunset’s throat tightened, but she refused to stop now. Rarity had spoken to her about Fluttershy and Rainbow, and it had helped, but… nobody had let her talk about Rarity. “Sh-she… She’s a beautiful person, really. Far better than I ever was. Or could be.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, sugarcube.”
“Stop it.” Sunset glared, that ever-calm expression on Applejack’s face only making her blood boil. “Rarity and I are not comparable. She read me like an open book, and I let her because I wanted her to. I didn’t have to worry about rejection because not only did she already know, she reciprocated.”
Applejack nodded, attentive and focused. “So what changed?”
“Don’t you already know?” Sunset winced at the sound of her voice; that sounded a lot like ‘Old Sunset.’ “Sorry, I’m sorry.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, she took a long, calming breath. It didn’t douse the flame, but it helped a little. “She meant everything to me. What I didn’t understand was that I wasn’t bringing anything into the relationship. I was so happy to be in one at all that I… I didn’t notice she was drifting away. Not until it was too late.”
The memory came fresh to her mind, standing at the door to the boutique, crying and waiting for the door to open. Waiting for Rarity to come out and admit to having made a mistake, to wanting her back. She had to have been standing there for over an hour. If she closed her eyes, she could still identify all the little cracks and irregularities of the wood in that door.
“And now it’s fall,” Applejack whispered. “And you’re scared that I’m just gonna be another failure.”
“Won’t you?” Sunset met her gaze through the encroaching darkness. “I… I feel like I’ve been doing nothing but going through my friends like some humanoid bowling ball. I’m destroying everything I touch.” She sighed, pushed her plate aside and leaned on the table, arms crossed in front of her face. “Sometimes I wish that stupid rainbow ray or whatever had just turned me into a pile of ash and been done with it.”
“Gotta admit, ya seem to be going through us pretty fast.” She’d said it, but Sunset couldn’t find anything negative in Applejack’s tone. Which was strange; shouldn’t she have been critical? Wasn’t that appropriate right now?
“Why are you so eager for a partner?”
There it was. The big question, and the big truth. Sunset’s eyes burned. She closed them and tried to keep the trembling down. “Because I’m not human.”
“Okay, there’s putting yourself down, and then there's—”
“I’m not human, AJ. I’m a pony. Born in Equestria, raised on Equestrian values, and instilled with Equestrian desires. And…” She sat up and squeezed her arms around herself. “Every pony, from Princess Celestia down to the lowliest criminal, wants to be loved. We thrive on affection, and we give it freely. I’m starving for it. Every scheme, every waking action I did while here, even the bad stuff, was part of a desperate desire to get it. H-humans…”
She rubbed her eyes and fought down the lump in her throat. Her chest felt like she’d ingested tacks and her breathing was erratic. “Humans aren’t affectionate like ponies are. They just aren’t. But I want it, Applejack. I want it so badly. I keep seeing opportunities that aren’t there. It’s like I’m lost in a desert and there’s oases all around me, but every single one is a stupid mirage and I’m dying here!”
The last words had been a shout. She had stood up at some point, hands on the table. She glared at her friend, who gaped at her as if she were something other than human. Which, in truth, she was. Slowly, knees wobbling, Sunset settled back on her hay block and slumped against the table, hands on her head as her shoulder shook. She didn’t even try to stop the tears anymore.
Gradually, she began to calm herself. Her nose kept running, but at least her tears stopped. She felt a little foolish for having vented years’ worth of frustrations like that, but… getting it out felt good, at least.
“And now it’s fall again,” Applejack said quietly. “Another season, another try.”
“What’s the point?” Sunset grumbled, grabbing a paper napkin to wipe her nose. “I c-can’t figure you stupid humans out.”
Applejack leaned forward. “You forgot the theme.”
“The theme?” Sunset thought for a moment, then groaned. “What, hard work? What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Everything. Humans are hard work, Sunset. If you wanna understand us – if you want to be loved by one of us – you’ve gotta work for it.” That wonderful smile returned to Applejack’s lips. “What do you think you’ve been doing over the past year?”
Sunset rolled her eyes. “Failing miserably?”
“Working hard.” Nodding as if to confirm something to herself, Applejack sat back up and gestured to the food between them. “Just like how you worked hard today to get here, even if ya didn’t know that’s what you were working for. Lots of times we have no idea what the reward’s gonna be. Sometimes we don’t even expect a reward. But expect it or not, hard work will provide some reward.”
That was either the dumbest or the most enlightened thing Sunset had ever heard. “I’m not sure anyone works hard without expecting some kind of reward, AJ. And how does me failing to court three of my friends count as hard work?”
Applejack raised a finger in the air. “You’re learning, Sunset. That’s what relationships – friendships or romances – need. Ya don’t learn to make the perfect apple pie after one try. You gotta mess up a few pie crusts and burn a few fingers first. And if ya need companionship that badly as a pony, I don’t think you’re ready to give up the fight just yet.”
The words made a strange amount of sense. Almost too much, really. Sunset turned her eyes to the pie set between them. It looked… good. Even in the dark. She tapped her fingers together and dared another peek at her companion. “You think I can get it right if I keep trying? Even if it keeps hurting?”
“Hurting is part of relationships, sugarcube.” Applejack’s heart-melting smile came back in full force. “Even when they do work. There’ll always be a few bad apples in the bushel. You just gotta keep picking.”
A flicker of hope lit in Sunset’s chest. But it couldn’t be real, could it? “And… is that what we’re doing right now?”
Applejack leaned far back, stretching her arm to the side. Her eyes never left Sunset’s. There was a soft ‘click’, and abruptly the gazebo lit up with soft lights. Sunset gasped at the gentle illumination of white Christmas lights in the rafters.
She’s not…
Everything looked… different. The table, the food, the gazebo, and beyond? Darkness. It was like they’d descended into an ocean of shadows, floating upon a wooden boat. With nothing else to see, Sunset found her gaze focusing upon the green eyes of Applejack.
Oh, Celestia, she is.
“Well, now you know what the battery was for.” Applejack set her hat aside and looked Sunset in the eye. “I’m giving this a try, Sunset. It might not have a happy ending. We might end up hurting one another. But no matter what…”
She reached across the table to take Sunset’s hand. Who’d have thought hers could be so soft? Those lush emeralds stared into Sunset, and she thought she might melt.
“We’ll get through it together. With friendship, honesty, and good old-fashioned hard work.”
Bump bump bump bump bump.
For once, Sunset was glad for the hummingbird in her chest. She couldn’t help but think that this would be a good season. And even if it wasn’t, Maybe Applejack was right. Maybe she’d find what she was looking for eventually. Applejack would be there in the end, one way or another. She squeezed Applejack’s hand and, for the first time in weeks, let the idea bloom in her mind.
Just as Applejack promised, the pie was delicious.
Author's Note
This was not written for the contest so much as it was written because the contest inspired the idea. Which I suppose is true for any story entered into a contest, really. Point is, I'm not here to win, I just wanted to get a new story out.
One battle I faced in this one is the word "you" and shorthand "ya". I did want to have the small reminder of Applejack's accent, and that is an easy way to do it without going overboard. The problem: one doesn't say one or the other exclusively. There's no rule to when you should do one or the other – I should know, as a southern boy. But writing demands some attention be paid to the matter, and I just couldn't determine if I was using too much, too little, or just the right amount. Sentences that sound find with it one day read poorly with it the next, then fine with it again the day after. Where does one find that balance?
I appreciate anyone's opinion.
