Work never really ended at Sweet Apple Acres. Even winters were spent preparing for the next year. As summer turned to fall and more and more cultivars ripened, three of the Apples were out gathering their namesake. Not-so-Little Macintosh took over more for Granny Smith with each passing year, but nopony drew any attention to that, least of all Bright Mac.
Buttercup had gotten a pass, as a mother's work was even more unending than a farmer's, especially when her youngest foal was still working through newborn magic surges, covering both of them in tree sap that had no business still being in the family crib. But Apple Bloom was far from the only pony Buttercup had to pick up after. Applejack generally left her room like a hurricane had been through. How a filly who had only three outfits to her name managed to leave them all on her floor that consistently was beyond Buttercup.
She couldn't help but smile as she hung them back up. "Maybe if I told her she might get a cutie mark in pickin' up after herself..." Applejack had only gotten antsier with every marked classmate. At this rate, it looked like she would be the last foal in her class to find herself. Buttercup's attempts to tell her how the same thing had happened to her hadn't helped any. Of course, that jar had been obvious in hindsight...
"Hmm..." Buttercup looked around the room. Maybe there was a hint about what Applejack was meant to do in all the clutter. She didn't want to snoop, but if she could nudge AJ in the right direction, her daughter would be sure to thank her. She started shuffling through the boxes at the floor of the closet. Just a quick little look-see, she told herself. It wasn't like she was going to comb every inch of the room.
Anything else she might have told herself went unthought. Her whole train of thought all but flew off the tracks as she took in what she found in a box labeled "such n such" in her darling baby's scrawled mouthwriting.
Her darling, sweet, innocent baby who had somehow gotten her hooves on...
On...
The scream woke Apple Bloom from her nap. She then proved enough of a distraction to break her mother out of the shock. Buttercup took the...
Buttercup took it back to her own bedroom, then went to settle Apple Bloom down, because Celestia knew she didn't have the spare time she'd need to fall to pieces. By the time Applejack got home from school, Buttercup could pretend the only thing wrong was Jackie throwing her bookbag on the floor. She managed to smile her way through dinner and putting the foals to bed. She even managed to look Granny Smith in the eye when they said goodnight, which wasn't guaranteed even without something weighing on her mind.
Only when she lay in bed did she let herself turn to Bright Mac and say, "Do you know what I found in your daughter's room?"
He folded the evening paper and looked over at her. "Well, if you're callin' her 'my daughter,' it probably ain't good."
"No." Buttercup pulled it out from under her pillow and threw it into his lap. "It ain't."
Bright Mac picked it up, idly flipping through a few pages. "Huh. To be honest, it's kind of a relief to know she's takin' an interest."
Buttercup's mouth worked silently for a few moments. "What?"
"Well, either Little Mac ain't lookin' or he's better at hidin' it than I ever was, so—"
"Bright Macintosh, you shut your fool mouth." Buttercup took the... periodical in her own hooves, paging through it so roughly that she put a few tears in it.
"Careful, Buttercup; pretty sure that's the library's."
"I'll pay for the back order." Buttercup snarled as she found what she was looking for. "Do you know what Jackie's been lookin' at in here?"
Bright Mac shrugged. "Didn't see any dog-ears. How can ya tell?"
"Two pages were stuck together." Buttercup gripped it in a fetlock and all but shoved the pages in his face. "These two."
The magazine blocked her view of Bright Mac's face, but she could see his ears droop over the edges. "Oh."
"Yeah."
"I see." With a gentle hoof, Bright Mac brought Buttercup's foreleg down until the fruit catalog was on the mattress. He gave one more glance at the clumsily airbrushed pictures of pears. "You don't think she knows, do you?"
"How could she? I don't think anypony's called me anything but Buttercup since the weddin'." Buttercup crossed her forelegs and glowered off to the side. "And that stallion certainly ain't tellin' nopony."
"Buttercup…" Bright Mac brought a hoof up to her cheek.
She flinched back, unable to face him. "We ain't talkin' 'bout that again, Bright Mac. I tried. Celestia knows I tried. If he ain't writin' back after I let him know 'bout his third grandfoal, then I'm as through with him as he is with me."
"That don't change who you are. Who your daughter is."
"My daughter is an Apple. Nothin' else. An' I won't have her sullyin' herself with… with that." Buttercup swiped the catalog off of the sheets, sending it slapping against the floor. For a moment, she wished she had a horn, if only so she could light the cursed thing on fire here and now.
"They're pears, Pear Bu—"
She whirled back to face him, face locked in a scowl. "Don't call me that," she ground out. "Don't you dare call me that. Not when you gave me my name in the first place."
Bright Macintosh looked straight into her eyes, gave his own glare, and said, "Pear Butter."
She felt her muscles tense. Part of her wanted to slap him. Part wanted to shift into position to give him a proper buck. The rest wanted to fall into his arms and cry until the firefly lantern went dark. One tear managed to escape down her cheek as she said, "That ain't who I am no more."
"You're a Pear, darlin'. "So are your foals." Bright Mac seemed on the edge of tears himself. He patted her hindquarters, something she'd love on a happier night. "So's your mark."
She just shook her head. "I don't wanna be part of any family that'll put a feud before love."
Bright Mac heaved a sigh. "Well, y' are an Apple too. But you ain't just an Apple." A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "An' the Apples always have a place for Pears."
Buttercup turned away, laying down and saying, "Yeah, hatin' 'em up until they feel sorry for one."
Bright Mac took his place as big spoon, holding her close. "That ain't what I mean. I tell you what. Tomorrow, I'm gonna show ya somethin'. But first, I'm gonna need your help."
She shut her eyes, letting herself get lost in his warmth and the faint hint of honest sweat that a shower hadn't been able to remove. "With what?"
He whispered the answer in her ear. "Gonna need a Pear to show me which ones're ripe right about now."
Buttercup stiffened. "Now?" She wriggled out of Bright Mac's embrace to face him. "As in right now?
He blinked gormlessly. "Uh, yeah. That a problem?"
"Shoot, wish you'd told me ahead o' time. We coulda picked 'em a few days in advance and let 'em…" She trailed off and lightly cuffed him on the shoulder. "You snake in the grass."
Bright Mac just grinned like the big, lovable oaf he was. "Let 'em what? You got me curious."
Buttercup rolled her eyes and let her thoughts go back to a topic she'd tried her best to forget. "Well, one thing y' can do is let 'em sit in a bag with an apple."
Bright Mac's eyebrows rose. "That so?"
"Makes 'em ripen quicker."
He nodded and gave the grin that always came before one of his terrible jokes. "Well, we got three Apple-Pears that prove that."
That got another cuff. "Hush, you. They might still be awake."
"We still on for tomorrow?" Bright Mac's expression had gone serious again, giving Buttercup the hard stare he usually saved for stubborn stumps and... that stallion.
She just nodded.
The oaf came back, his grin seeming even bigger from the absence. "It's a date, then."
Explaining themselves to Granny Smith hadn't even been necessary. "You two go on," she'd said. "Li'l Mac's startin' to think he's got one over on his ol' grandma. I'm gonna show him I still got plenty of kick left in me. I'll even take Bloomy with me, like I used to with you, Mac. You two don't let her out in the orchard near often enough. Why, in my day..."
At that point, it had just been a matter of waiting for Granny to go far back enough that she wouldn't see her son and daughter-in-law leave in the present. Bright Mac led them towards the site of the old Pear orchard. "C'mon. We got some buckin' to do."
Buttercup stared at him for a few steps before she followed. "Excuse me?"
He looked back, confusion clear in his face. "What?"
She caught up to him, giving him a hard stare of her own. "Tell me you did not just say what I thought I heard you say."
"Well now, that depends. What did I say?"
She swept a hoof over the approaching trees, laden with their bounty. She tried to ignore the hints of fungus and rot she could already make out on the branches. "There're all kinds of pears, Bright Mac. There's eatin' pears, bakin' pears, cider pears—"
"Cider pears?"
"Da—" She bit off the word, glowering. "That stallion never could get the stuff t' sell." She offered Bright Mac a smile. "There ain't no out-ciderin' Granny Smith." Pear Butter's expression hardened again. "My point is for all the kinds o' pears out there, ain't none o' them are buckin' pears. So don't you go slammin' them clumsy Apple hooves against any o' them trees."
He smirked even as she prodded a forehoof into his chest. "'Clumsy Apple hooves'?"
It took a moment, but P— But Buttercup gasped and took a step back, forehoof over her mouth. "Oh! Honey, I'm sorry, that was my daddy talkin'. It just slipped out."
"It's fine, darlin'." Bright Mac chuckled. "I know I've had t' bite my tongue when teachin' you about apples."
"An' Granny ain't paid me th' same courtesy." She tossed her head in a direction she still knew by heart. "C'mon, there should still be some stepladders in th' shed."
They traveled along the orchards' shared border in silence for a time, just like the walks they'd taken during their courtship. Bright Mac watched the seeds they'd planted on their wedding day pass by, the saplings seeming to twine around each other.
Buttercup broke the silence. "Y'know what really bothers me?"
"What's that?"
"Wasn't even an eatin' pear Jackie stained th' catalog with." She snorted at the thought. "Don't know what fool's hockin' pears in this town these days, but they don't know their Bartletts from their Boscs."
"How can you even tell?"
She looked at him like he'd asked how she knew water was wet. "Smell o' th' juice."
Bright Mac tilted back his hat, letting Buttercup get a good look at the admiration in his eyes. "Well I'll be."
She blushed and looked away. A glance at the sun had her settle herself and shift to a canter. "C'mon now. School'll be lettin' out soon, an' I want this over with before Jackie gets home."
"Sure thing."
Buttercup kept her eyes and ears forward, but she just barely heard her husband murmur, "Pear Butter."
She found herself smiling, and said nothing back.
Applejack galloped to the farmhouse, pigtails bobbing every which way. She nearly slammed into the screen door before she could slam it open. "I'm home!" she cried, tossing her bookbag wherever it cared to land. She certainly didn't plan on looking at it again until tomorrow.
"Welcome back, Jackie," said Buttercup, giving her a neutral look from on the couch. She patted the cushion next to her. "Why don't you come up here, sugarcube?"
"Uh..." Applejack blinked. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Mama was supposed to make her pick up the bookbag and hang it up proper. It was Daddy who'd smile, wink, and put it away himself. "Okay?" She heaved herself next to Buttercup. It was getting easier as she got taller, but still a bit of a jump. "Somethin' wrong?"
"Not exactly." Buttercup shifted and pulled out the seed catalog from behind her, still open to an incriminating, sticky page. "I thought we should have a talk. Mother 'n' daughter."
"Oh." Applejack gulped. Prickles of worry ran down her spine. "Thought I'd left that— I mean, uh, Granny needs me t'—"
"Don't need ya for nothin' right now, Jackie," Granny Smith said as she walked through the room.
A hoof running through Applejack's mane brought her attention back to Buttercup. "It's okay, Jackie. You ain't in trouble."
"I ain't?"
Buttercup shook her head. "Every farmin' pony gets a little curious 'round your age."
"Even you?" Applejack gasped.
"Even me." Buttercup smirked. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you what I tried when I was a filly."
Applejack wrinkled her muzzle as all kinds of images came to mind. Like chicory. And rhubarb. "Eww."
Buttercup gave a quiet laugh and hopped off the couch. "Now come with me. We're gonna put apples and pears together and make somethin' amazing."
"Really?"
"Yup." Buttercup looked back with a smile that Applejack wouldn't fully understand for years. "Happens more often than you'd think."
Author's Note
I originally considered using A Gremlin in the Works as the base story, because card games, but I found I didn't have any especially interesting ideas for Ponyville's resident æthervore population. Thus, I turned to one of Alaborn's most eerily prescient works and cranked up the drama knob. After all, Pear Butter would likely have some very complicated feelings about her namesake fruit at this point in time.
It says "Big Macintosh" on his birth certificate, but it still took him a while to grow into the name.
Yes, pears really do ripen faster when there's an apple in the bag, thanks to the apple's exuded ethylene.
Three guesses what fruit Buttercup tried when she was a filly, and the first two don't count.
Thanks for reading. 
