Informed Delivery

by Gay For Gadot

Rating: teen
Tags: Apple Bloom, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Starlight Glimmer, Romance, Comedy, Derpy Hooves, Slice of Life, Sex, Main 6, Applejack
Length: 9114

After her brother and Sugar Belle get together, Applejack decides it's finally time to give this whole "relationship" business a shot. Only problem is, she's gonna need a bigger mailbox...

Applejack doesn't "do" dating. Everypony knows that. But after her brother and Sugar Belle get together, she decides it's finally time to give this whole "relationship" business a shot.

Only problem is, she's gonna need a bigger mailbox...

Takes place prior to Season 8.

Published 2020-11-27 20:50:00 UTC
Last updated 2020-11-27 20:50:00 UTC

You've Got Mail

Informed Delivery

Ponies in love could be a mite stupid.

As Big Macintosh let yet another flapjack burn, Applejack knew this far too well. A fresh puff of black smoke rising from the range, Big Mac stared off into space. If she squinted hard enough, she could see floating hearts dancing before his goofy green eyes.

“C’mon, Mac! Quit burnin’ ‘em! Yer gonna make Apple Bloom late fer school.” After shoving past him, Applejack grabbed the skillet and tossed the ruined flapjack into the garbage.

Shaking his head clear, his dilated pupils rattling in his eyes, Big Mac shot her an embarrassed grin. He slinked away from the stove to join the rest of the family at the breakfast table. As he sat down, that dopey grin sprang back to his muzzle. The way he sighed reminded Applejack of a bellows—if a bellows had morning breath.

“Aw, I don’t mind, Applejack!” Apple Bloom smiled over at her brother. “It’s just nice to see Big Mac so happy.”

“Apple Bloom’s got the right idea!” Granny Smith chimed in, chuckling as she rustled the filly’s mane. “‘Sides, if I didn’t know any better—” her weathered muzzle twisted into a mocking grin—“I’d say somepony was jealous.”

“Jealous?” Flipping another perfect pancake on top of the towering stack on the counter, Applejack scoffed. “Jealous o’ what? A pony so lovestruck he can’t even focus on makin’ flapjacks?” Two more pancakes joined the batch. “No thanks.”

As she carried the huge plate to the table, Applejack added, “It’d be nice to have a special somepony, I’ll admit, but not if I end up like…” She gagged. “That.”

The bite of pancake Big Mac had speared on his fork missed his mouth. Another one made contact with his chin instead.

Apple Bloom drowned her breakfast in an ocean of maple syrup. Enough that Pinkie Pie would consider it excessive, if asked honestly. “What’s wrong with Big Mac bein’ all lovey over Sugar Belle? Me an’ the Crusaders thought it was real cute.”

Somehow, Big Mac heard her, blushing darker than his own coat. “Naw, ‘t ain’t cute…”

Granny Smith rolled her eyes. “Aw, don’t mind her, Apple Bloom.” She slathered enough butter to clog all of their collective arteries over her own pancake. “Yer big sister’s just too shy to get her own special somepony.”

“I’m not shy!” Applejack huffed as she prepared her own sensible breakfast. Two flapjacks with a pat of butter and a drizzle of syrup. Enough to power her through her morning chores, but not enough to give her a sugar rush. Or put her on those pills Granny Smith never remembered to take. “I’m just waitin’ fer the right pony.”

“Fiddlesticks!” Granny Smith scoffed. “Unless yer afraid o’ comin’ outta the stable—”

Applejack flushed. “Gr-Granny!”

“—Which, I should remind ya, is a mite silly, considerin’ how many gay ponies we have in the family—”

“Ya know what they say!” Apple Bloom grinned around a mouthful of pancakes. “‘If ya don’t know who’s the gay cousin, then yer the gay cousin.’”

“—Then I don’t know what’s keepin’ ya. I need some grandfoals already. Adopted or not.” At Apple Bloom’s pout, Granny Smith clarified, “More grandfoals, silly filly.”

Applejack pointed over at her brother. “Then bother him, not me!”

Big Mac sighed, his eyes glazing over. “Eeyup.”

Applejack laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he didn’t hear that. Otherwise, he’d be on the floor.”

“Don’t try an’ change the subject now, missy.” Granny Smith prodded her shoulder. “If ya don’t get a move on in the courtship department, I’ll have no choice but to start playin’ matchmaker!”

That sent a chill down Applejack’s spine. The last time Granny Smith had “played matchmaker,” she’d ended up stuck in Appleloosa with one of Braeburn’s… very nice, but very gay stallion friends. For one so accepting, Granny Smith sure didn’t pick up on a lot of things. At least Applejack’s “date” did. He picked up their tab, then cordially left the bar with… Braeburn… and a few other stallions from out of town.

Applejack suddenly lost her appetite. “Yeah, let’s not do that again, Granny.”

“Well, then what’s the hangup?” Granny Smith asked. “I ain’t gettin’ any younger waitin’ fer ma grandfoals!”

Applejack exhaled through her nostrils. “Like I said, Granny, I’m just waitin’ fer the right pony. But,” she added, hearing the rebuttal already, “I’ll have you know that I told ma friends just the other day to keep their eyes peeled. Y-ya know, just in case they knew a real nice pony lookin’ fer a night out.”

“Really?” Apple Bloom’s eyes widened. “Ya mean it?!”

“Uh…” Applejack tilted her head at Apple Bloom’s somewhat worrisome—okay, very worrisome—enthusiasm. “Y-yeah? Why ya ask?”

Chuckling, Apple Bloom shoved the rest of her half-eaten flapjack into her mouth. “Oh, no reason.”

Applejack narrowed her eyes. “You’d better not be plannin’ anythin’. I don’t need ‘Cutiemark Crusader Matchmakers,’ or anythin’ like that.”

Applejack could practically see the fake halo floating above her little sister’s head. “Got it, sis.”

Groaning, Applejack shoved the rest of her food away. Breakfast now finished, she gathered their dishes. As she started towards the sink, Granny Smith slapped her on the flank. The stack of dishes almost tumbled to the floor. “Wh-what the hay was that fer, Granny?!”

With a long, low whistle, Granny Smith said, “Now that’s the spirit, darlin’! Go out there an’ get the mare o’ yer dreams! Or the stallion, I guess. I don’t mind.” She winked. “Heh, heh, heh!”

Her coat almost matching her brother’s, Applejack replied, “I wouldn’t mind either, if ya must know.” She added under her breath, “Though I don’t see how that’s anypony’s business but ma own…”

“See?” Granny Smith gestured to Apple Bloom. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”

Nodding, Apple Bloom smirked at her brother. “Alright, Big Mac, pay up! I told ya she likes both. Ya owe me a month o' chores!”

Whatever wonderland Big Mac was lost in came crashing down at this revelation. Applejack could only watch, slack-jawed, as he said, “Darn, I thought I had it right.”

The dishes in Applejack’s forelegs fell into the soapy water. “Wh-what did ya think you had right?!”

Big Mac shrugged. “AJ, I remember how ya’d stare at certain fillies’ flanks when we were in school. Never caught ya lookin’ at a colt.”

While the others murmured in agreement, Applejack could only stare down the sink’s drain. Diving into it seemed like a good idea right about now. The sewers could be real nice, right? Cool, spacious, somewhere she’d never hear this kind of talk ever again. The rushing water would drown out the sound of the laughter behind her. Hopefully forever.

As she attempted to do the dishes—cursing the foul crimson blooming across her muzzle—Applejack heard the others get up from the table. She called out through gritted teeth, “Apple Bloom, don’t forget to check the mail. I’m expectin’ somethin’ from Braeburn.” An apology letter, she left off, although the events of last month should’ve made that clear.

“Alright!” In a flash, Apple Bloom was off, her light hooves sounding far too happy on the floorboards.

“I’m off to work on ma quilt, then.” When she passed by, Granny Smith patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry yer mane none, Applejack. I’m sure yer friends will set ya up with the prettiest mare in town.”

Applejack mumbled something… polite. Well, at least it was if Granny Smith didn’t hear it.

Sighing into the soapy suds, Applejack finished scrubbing the pan. There weren’t enough dishes here. Might as well clean the range, table, and counters, too. She grabbed the sponge and set to work as Granny Smith finally let her be, laughing all the way.

From the corner of her eye, Applejack caught Big Mac staring. “Yeah, Mac?” She scrubbed at an ancient stain on one of the burners. One that would never come out, no matter how much elbow grease she ground into it. “Whatcha want?”

Big Mac rubbed at his nape. “Y’know… I hope it don’t offend ya none, but Sugar Belle knows all the ponies in Starlight’s old village. She could probably se—”

“Finish that sentence, an’ yer doin’ all ma chores fer the month, on top o’ Apple Bloom’s.”

“Gotta go!” A red blur bolted from the kitchen, slamming the back door on his way out.

Applejack looked up from her fruitless task to sigh. “I swear… if I hear one more joke ‘bout this…” She returned to her cleaning. “Best not jinx it.”

Including sweeping the floor, it took about fifteen minutes for Applejack to make the kitchen shine. Now that she’d had some time to lose herself in her work, she was feeling right as rain. She smiled as she left the kitchen, heading out the back door.

Outside, she was rewarded with a beautiful day on her farm. Birds sang in time with the rhythm of the light breeze. Only a few fluffy white clouds dotted the blue sky above. She took in a deep breath, sighing contentedly. It was the perfect time to get some real work done. Till the ground, plant the seeds, help Apple Bloom with the mountain of mail—

M-mountain of mail?

“A-Applejack, help!”

Applejack’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “Apple Bloom!”

Fifteen minutes was an awful long time to walk down to the mailbox, check it, and walk back. Between embarrassment and housework, Applejack had completely forgotten. On any other morning, she would’ve guessed that Apple Bloom was just dilly-dallying before heading off to school. This time, she understood why it took her so long.

Buried under a mountain of envelopes, Apple Bloom limped over. An apple basket on her back was filled to the brim with mail. When Applejack hoisted the basket onto her own back, Apple Bloom staggered. “Th-thanks, sis. I didn’t think I was gonna make it!”

“What in tarnation is all this?!” It was the biggest pile of mail either of them had ever seen. “How’d it even fit in the box?!”

Shakily, Apple Bloom straightened out her hooves. “I-I don’t know! Some letters fell off the pile on ma way back. Let me grab ‘em real quick.”

As Apple Bloom walked off, Applejack studied the ridiculous amount of mail with narrowed eyes. Was that chain letter trend starting again? The last time it’d happened, Pinkie Pie had forwarded the letter to literally everypony in Equestria, asking everypony to forward it back, which she then forwarded to everypony again, which… Applejack’s brain twisted into knots just thinking about it.

Or maybe it was spam. While Applejack wasn’t able to prove Flim and Flam were responsible, after the whole incident with the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy Six Thousand, the Apple Family’s mailbox had been flooded with all kinds of junk mail. Advertisements for horn cream, lawyers representing those harmed by Nightmare Moon’s (admittedly brief) return, and coupons for... rather unconventional supplements arrived for months. They stopped when Applejack replied with a piece of her mind… and some creative drawings.

Huffing and puffing, Apple Bloom joined her side. “Alright, there weren't as many as I thought. There’s just these—” she passed over a half-dozen more envelopes— “an’ this magazine.” The magazine was black, the image of a white pony’s head on the cover a stark contrast to the background. “‘Playcolt’? What’s this? Some kinda game magazine?”

Applejack snatched it away. “Gimme that!”

“Whoa!” Apple Bloom almost fell over again. “Sorry, Applejack! Was it yers? I wasn’t gonna steal it.”

“N-no! It ain’t mine!” Applejack hissed, her cheeks returning to their previous, ridiculous red. “It’s yer brother’s, an’ darn it if I didn’t—Big Macintosh!”

Across the way, Big Mac, in the process of harnessing himself to the plow, froze. He looked over at her, his eyes almost bulging from his skull. Despite the warm weather, Applejack’s breath steamed as she stared him down. “Uh… Y-y-yeah, AJ?”

Applejack held up the magazine. “Mind explainin’ this?!”

Paler than a ghost, Big Macintosh galloped over. He grabbed the dirty magazine in his mouth and gave Applejack a look so sheepish, she was surprised that he didn’t baa as an afterthought. Muttering something about needing to cancel, he rushed away. To dispose of it. Hopefully.

“What’s in that magazine?” Apple Bloom asked with wide, innocent eyes.

Applejack pointed down the path that led into town. “Go to school, Apple Bloom.” She stomped a hoof. “Now.”

Apple Bloom’s ears flattened. “But what ‘bout yer mail? Maybe I could—”

“You could help by gettin’ yer rump to school.” Taking another look at the basket, Applejack just sighed. “I’ll be fine. Just run off to school, an’ I’ll take care o’ things here like I always do.” She mustered a slight smile. “Alright?”

Though she looked skeptical, Apple Bloom finally nodded. “Alright, Applejack. I’ll see ya when I get home. After crusadin’, I mean.”

Applejack shoved her towards the path. “Yeah, yeah. Now, get along now. Yer gonna be late.”

With one last nod, Apple Bloom galloped off. Left behind was Applejack and the contents of her poor, overstuffed, and—as a quick glance up the road confirmed—abused mailbox.

Well, it wasn’t like she had much else to do today besides chores. Adding “Open all this dadgum mail,” and “Repair/replace the mailbox,” to her mental list, she headed back inside.

Ponies in love could be a mite stupid, Applejack already knew.

But this?

This was… This… Was just… On a whole ‘nother level.

Sitting in the middle of the living room floor, Applejack stared at the circle of envelopes surrounding her. Her hat was in her forehooves. She twisted it around and around in a circle. The mindless fidgeting did little to quell the disbelief in her eyes… or the strange, sick fluttering in her heart and stomach.

There must have been a letter here from every pony in Ponyville. Well, almost every pony. The Cakes hadn’t written her anything. Or Caramel and Sassaflash. Or Lyra and Bon-Bon.

Or anypony who was… well, taken. Spoken for. Married, or engaged, or might as well be.

But these? These were all from single ponies. Every single pony in all of Ponyville. Mare and stallion alike.

And they were all love letters.

As Applejack continued fussing with her hat, she felt more sweat wick down her brow. Though it was a pleasant spring day, she might as well have been under the blazing eye of the summer sun. She’d never felt so hot.

And not in the good way.

At first, it had been flattering. The first letter had been from… Noteworthy? Was that his name? Applejack wasn’t too sure. She was pretty sure she hadn’t spoken to him since Winter Wrap-Up. He seemed like a nice enough fellow. His letter reflected that. A bit forgettable—maybe a little too dramatic—but nice enough.

The next had been from… one of the flower ponies. Roseluck? That sounded right. All of them had sent her a letter, but Roseluck’s had been the first. Or maybe it was Daisy’s. Lily’s? Horseapples, it didn’t really matter at this point. The gist had been the same in the second letter, and the third, and…

“I don’t normally write letters like this, but…”

“I heard you were on the lookout for a special somepony, and I just thought…”

“I hope somepony else called you beautiful before me, because you really should be hearing it…”

“I’ve always admired you, but I never had the guts to…”

Most of them were like that.

But there were a few that… Well…

“I’d like to wear your flank as a hat.”

“I’d like you to wear my flank as a hat.”

Most troubling of all, “I’d like to wear your hat!”

Her eyes fell to one of the thicker envelopes. Unlike the others, this one had come from Manehattan. It had been a long time since she'd heard from Rara, hadn't it?

If the photograph within was any indication… Applejack understood why it had taken a while for her old friend to summon the courage to write to her.

… Applejack tucked that photo into her hat for safekeeping. Better not let Apple Bloom find that one. Eenope. That would be a lot harder to explain than one of Big Mac’s Playcolts. Eeyup. That’s why she was saving it.

Feeling her heart palpitate, Applejack tried to count her breaths along with the letters. When she got to fifty, she gave up. Slumping back against the couch, she could only stare at the swaths of envelopes. Many were adorned with wax seals or names dotted with little hearts for the jots. Some were written in neat calligraphy; others were barely legible.

And there were still six remaining.

Applejack peered at the remaining letters, her heart hammering in her chest. She glanced at the clock. Eight in the morning wasn’t too early to start drinking, right? It was five o’clock somewhere. Maybe it was time to crack open that special Apple Family cider they saved for reunions and big parties.

The creak of a squeaky floorboard yanked her from the mess on the floor. She looked over to see Big Mac sneaking through the living room. Or trying to.

“What’s in the garbage bag, Mac?”

Averting his gaze, Big Mac said to the floor, “Magazines.”

Applejack snickered. “Really? Really, Big Mac?”

Brow furrowed, cheeks blazing, Big Mac glared at her. “A stallion has needs, AJ. You know that.”

“Boy, don’t I.” Eyes narrowed, Applejack crossed her forelegs over her chest. “That reminds me. Before ya have Sugar Belle spend the night here, do us all a favor: Buy a new mattress. An’ insulate yer room.”

Ears flattening, Big Mac stared back at the floor. “I said I was sorry.”

“Well, Apple Bloom’s gettin’ too old to believe in ghosts, so I’m gonna run outta excuses next time.” Sighing, Applejack’s eyes were drawn back to the scattered chaos on the floor. She waved him off. “Run along now. I’d put that bag with the trash that’s goin’ out in the mornin’. Don’t want Apple Bloom lookin’ through it.”

To her surprise, Applejack looked over her shoulder to find him studying the six unopened envelopes on the coffee table.

A chuckle rumbled through Big Mac’s chest. “Are those from—”

“And then I said, ‘Darling, I simply cannot let you leave my Boutique looking like that!’”

A chorus of laughter echoed around the Friendship Map table.

Twilight Sparkle giggled into her forehoof. “Let me guess. She missed her train back to Fillydelphia, didn’t she?”

Rarity waved off Twilight’s concern as she brought her teacup to her lips. “Well, yes, but she was far more grateful for my help. To think that she would’ve gone back home looking like—”

The sound of two great crystal doors slamming, followed by a rush of hooves, turned the party’s attention away from Rarity’s latest quip. They fell silent as the sole missing member of their group joined them at the map table.

From the overflowing basket of envelopes on her back, as well as her wild mane and fiery eyes, it was easy to assume that Applejack hadn’t come for tea.

“Applejack, are you okay?” Fluttershy asked, looking over at her sweating, panting friend.

Instead of answering, Applejack bucked the entire basket of love letters onto the table. The sea of envelopes scattered, coating every corner of Equestria in white. While nopony’s cutiemarks responded to this particular friendship problem, it would be impossible to see on the map if they did so anyway.

“Alright, which o’ y’all is responsible fer this?!”

Applejack’s hardened glare was met with slack jaws and wide eyes.

When nopony answered, Applejack spat, “Well?! I know one o’ y’all said somethin’—an’ probably to a lotta ponies, at that—otherwise, I wouldn’t need to replace ma darn mailbox! An’ turn down half the town on top o’ it!”

“... Turn down who? For what?” Rainbow Dash asked, at last breaking their collective silence.

Applejack gestured over the sea of mail. “These are all—” the fire in her eyes sparked to her cheeks— “c-consarn it!” With a gruff groan, Applejack rolled her eyes, her voice cracking as she finished, “L-love letters.”

Her friends exchanged a glance that could only be described as “unfortunate”.

What passed through their eyes sent Applejack fuming anew. She stomped a hoof on the crystal floor, the thud echoing off the walls. “Fer the love o’ apples, y’all! When I said I was thinkin’ 'bout gettin’ into datin’, I didn’t mean like—like this!” She looked down at the table in disgust. “This is just too dang much fer me! I don’t think I’ve even talked to some o' these folks!”

Shaking her head, Applejack stole a moment to take a few deep breaths and steady herself. “S-sorry. I guess that came out a little harsh.” Fidgeting, she muttered, “M-maybe I should sit down.”

“Of course, darling.” Rarity pulled Applejack’s marble throne out for her. “Let’s talk.”

Once Applejack was settled, she looked around. Whereas her friends had stared at her just a moment before, they avoided her gaze now. They whispered amongst themselves, odd glances exchanged. Except for Spike, whose shock still registered, the gem cupcake he’d been munching on stuck in his claws.

“Wait a minute.” Blinking, Spike set his cupcake down, then looked around the table. “I thought we all agreed to only tell ponies that Applejack would go well with.”

Applejack’s jaw fell agape. “Y-y’all agreed to what, now?”

“Well, I only told the flower ponies. They all seem nice, and flowers and farming go together, right?” Before anypony could answer, Fluttershy’s ears flattened. “M-maybe I said it a little too loudly. It was market day, after all… There were a lot of ponies around.”

Applejack could hear her gulp from across the table. “Shy, I don’t think it was necessarily yer—”

“I only told some ponies on the weather team! And a few of the ‘Bolts!” Dash chimed in. “Y’know, strong fliers who could keep up at Sweet Apple Acres.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “B-but I did tell Blossomforth, and she’s… uh… kind of a talker.”

Applejack facehoofed. “Dash…”

Pinkie Pie bounced in her seat, raising a forehoof like an excited schoolfilly. “Oooh! Oooh! My turn! My turn!” When the others looked at her, she said, “I just told the Cakes! Well, and Lyra! And Bon-Bon! And Sassaflash! And Caramel! And Davenport, and Cloud Kicker, and Golden Grape, and Sea Swirl, and Noteworthy, and Amethyst Star, annnnnnd—”

Applejack slammed her hat over her eyes, groaning. “Well, that explains it.”

“Um…” A dainty cough came from beside Applejack. Rarity offered her a bashful grin. “I—may have told a few friends of mine as well. Some single mares looking to settle down. Associates in Canterlot and Manehattan. Oh, and a reporter who did a story recently on, er, Ponyville’s hottest bachelors and bachelorettes.”

Looking up from under her hat, Applejack just blinked. “What.”

A forehoof on her chest, Twilight narrowed her eyes at Dash, Pinkie, and Rarity. “I can’t believe you three! I didn’t tell anypony else. I was going to wait until I found somepony who seemed right for Applejack. Not just anypony.”

“Right, that was the idea.” Starlight tapped her chin. “Other than you all, I didn’t really have anypony in mind I would suggest anyway. So I only told… Um… Trixie.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow—as did the others. “Trixie? What makes you think Trixie would be a good match for Applejack?” Her skeptical gaze softened as she cleared her throat. “Especially… considering…”

Starlight tilted her head. “Considering what?”

The others at the table now avoided Starlight’s gaze—including Applejack.

After a moment, Twilight asked, “Did—did Trixie even send you a letter, Applejack?”

Applejack removed her hat, searching inside it for a selected stack of letters. Ones she had set aside to… specifically address. “Uh, yeah. Sorta.” Applejack unfolded Trixie’s letter. “It's mostly just her goin' off ‘bout how amazin’ she is. Then it just ends with, ‘Wanna help me unpack ma wagon?’” She blanched. “I-is that slang fer somethin’?”

“Oh, who knows?” Starlight giggled. “Sounds about right for Trixie though.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Um, Starlight, don’t ya think there’s somepony else she’d—”

Pointing across the way, Pinkie Pie blurted, “Hey, Applejack! What’s that?”

Applejack’s eyes followed Pinkie’s line of sight. Too late. The photograph that she thought she’d tucked away in the lining of the hat had gotten loose, falling face-down on top of the stack of unique letters.

Pinkie Pie bounced across the table in several squishy hops. Applejack was fast enough to slap away Pinkie’s curious hoof—but not Twilight’s magic. “What is th—”

Twilight’s wings sprang open. Stiff, wide open. To their full height.

“Gah!” In a single leap, Applejack tackled Twilight and grabbed the photo. “S-sorry Twi!” she muttered, helping Twilight to her hooves. Her face burned as Twilight’s eyes fell to the photograph once more. Applejack turned it around, clutching the front to her chest.

Twilight shivered as she rose. “O-oh, that’s fine, Applejack…” Her wings remained splayed open. “Um, m-maybe leave that at home next time, though.”

Dash hovered over. “What is it? I wanna see!”

Applejack shoved Dash away with one forehoof, then tucked the photo away in her hat with the other. “No! Sit down, Dash!” When Dash just flapped her wings and approached again, Applejack warned, “Or, if ya don’t want to, maybe I should read yer letter out loud!”

If Applejack ever wondered what that pesky pegasus would look like in purple, she knew it now. That blush was gonna leave a mark.

Pinkie cocked her head. “Wait, you sent Applejack a letter too?”

As she sat down, Dash crossed her forelegs over her chest, flushing furiously. “W-w-well, I wasn’t sure if you guys were actually gonna do it, or just chicken out! So I sent one. I figured AJ could use the confidence boost.”

“Oh, is that what they’re callin’ it nowadays?” When she sat back down, Applejack searched through the envelopes. “That’s not what I’d call it, Dash. More like…” She groaned. “Flatterin’, but could you at least offer to buy a gal some dinner first before ya—” she straightened out Dash’s letter— “ahem, say that ya want to ‘Wear yer flank as a hat, while yer wearin’ YER hat, an’ you call me a dirty little filly an’—’” Applejack retched— “‘spit on me’?”

Six pairs of eyes shot towards Rainbow Dash… whose wings sprang to full mast with the velocity of a gale-force wind. By some miracle, there was enough blood to keep both Dash’s wings and muzzle blazing. Oh, and the rest of her alive, too. Though, the possibility of her living beyond today seemed rather… short-lived, at the moment.

The last set of wings in the room joined the others. “Oh, m-my.” Fluttershy hid behind her mane.

Facehoofing, Applejack rolled her eyes. “Ugh. This is gonna be embarrassin’ as all get out, but I might as well get it over with.” Sighing, she swept her gaze around the table. “Other than wantin’ to know where all the letters came from, I came here to turn all y’all down.”

Rarity almost spat out her tea. “All of us?”

Applejack nodded. “Eeyup. Apparently, Dash wasn’t the only one with a bright idea.” She gathered up all the envelopes, shuffled them in a random order, and cleared her throat.

When she came to the first letter, Applejack cringed. “Pinkie, I’m very—uh, flattered, by yer letter—” she held up a long piece of paper, which was filled to the margins with wayward scribbles— “even though it turned into a cupcake recipe halfway through.”

Pinkie grinned from ear to ear. “Oooh, I thought you’d like that one, Jackie! It’s my new super secret cupcake recipe! I make them in my basement! Ooh, wait! Can I call you ‘Jackie’? I think it’s a super cute nickname! Don’t you?! Just saying ‘Applejack’ all the time gets a little old, so hearing it must get even more old, but ‘AJ’ is more of a Rainbow Dash thing to say and we all know now how you feel about—”

Applejack raised a forehoof. “Again, I’m flattered, sugarcube, but, uh, no thanks. ‘Applejack’ is still just fine.” She shook her head. “An’ did you forget that we might be, um... related?”

“Nope!” Pinkie Pie chirped.

“... But ya sent me a love letter.” Applejack frowned. “I, uh, don’t have to explain the problem with that, right?”

Pinkie Pie blew a raspberry. “Well, no! Silly Jackie—I mean, Applejack! Of course it would be wrong if we were, like, sisters or something, or maybe first cousins like you and Braeburn, but, at the most, we’re, like, fourth cousins! Maybe even further! Annnnnnd, if you go alllllllll the way back,” she continued, appearing right beside Applejack as she slung a foreleg around her neck, “everypony is at least eleventh cousins or closer!” With a mischievous grin, she reasoned—as much as Pinkie Pie could ever reason—“Sooooo, no problem there, right?”

Applejack wriggled out of Pinkie’s grip. “A-again, sugarcube, no. Not only would that make Apple Family Reunions real awkward, but I just don’t see ya that way.”

The brief sound of a balloon deflating followed. Without missing a beat, Pinkie then gave a firm nod. “Okay dokey lokey! Worth a shot!” With a shrug, hop, skip, and a jump, she was back in her throne.

“... Well,” Rarity said, pouring herself another cup of tea, “I guess we all know Pinkie’s thoughts on, er… unconventional relationships.”

“Don’t you get too judgmental there, Rare. Yer up next.”

Tea dribbled onto the Friendship Map. “A-am I, now?” When the dribble turned to a steady stream of spilled jasmine, Twilight took the teapot back into her own aura. Sneaking glances at Applejack, Rarity tapped her forehooves together, scarlet blooming across her cheeks.

Looking over the lines of stylized calligraphy, the letter’s admittedly beautiful prose was indeed flattering… Applejack guessed. “Rarity, I’m gonna be honest. I don’t even know what half o’ these words are.” She held up the letter, her nose wrinkling as she attempted to pronounce these strange markings. “‘Ma love fer you is the penultimate, resplendent contradiction to ma ennui. Although I often seem pusill—pussill—’”

“And you said my letter was bad!” Dash snickered, laughing into a forehoof.

“Pusillanimous! Pusillanimous, Applejack!” Rarity shouted, gesticulating wildly.

“Yeah, I dunno what that means.” Applejack set the letter down. “In any case, Rare, while it’s, uh, a very sweet thing to do—I think—” Applejack gave the strange mix of twenty-six letters a sideways glance— “I gotta turn ya down too.”

“But why, darling? Don’t tell me we don’t positively have chemistry together.” Rarity fluttered her eyelashes. “I’ve seen the way you stare at me sometimes.”

“Ooooooooh,” Dash and Pinkie exclaimed.

Ignoring the heat on her cheeks, Applejack replied through a stammer, “W-w-well, ya drive me crazy sometimes, too. An’ I know I do the same to you. ‘Sides, we’re friends.” She gestured to the group. “You girls all mean so much to me as it is. I’d hate to ruin that.”

“But why do you assume this would ruin our friendship? After all, as Cadance likes to tell me—all too often,” Twilight added in a grumble, “the best relationships start as friendship.”

Sighing, Applejack shook her head. “See, that’s the thing. When I was talkin’ ‘bout wantin’ to get into datin’, I didn’t really mean with y’all. I meant more, like, somethin’ with a stranger. Or an acquaintance at most. Somethin’ simple to start. Go on a date. Dinner, maybe a movie. See if sparks fly. Y’know… all that…” Her cheeks were burning again. “Silly stuff.”

Fluttershy looked over the huge assortment of letters. “Well, Applejack, you sure have a bunch of choices here for that…”

“I’ll get to that in a minute. Let me just finish y’all's up first, an’ then we can talk ‘bout how somepony here led to me needin’ a new mailbox.” Applejack groaned. She’d just finished painting that new mailbox, too. “Anyway. Twilight.”

The anticipation of what would inevitably follow allowed Twilight's wings to, at last, fold back down. “Let me guess: too wordy?”

“Eeyup.” When Applejack opened Twilight’s letter, the scroll unraveled all the way across the map table. “Pretty much the same as Rarity. Nice words, an’ at least I know most o’ these—” Rarity rolled her eyes— “but yer too good o’ a friend, Twi. Plus, when things do go wrong an’ you lose it, you lose it good.” She managed a nervous smile. “Great as ya are, I don’t think I could handle that more than a few times a year.”

Beside her, Spike and Starlight giggled in tandem. “You’ve got that right!” Starlight pointed out.

As Twilight shot both of them a glare, Applejack raised a forehoof. “Now, now, hold on, Starlight. Yers is next. An’ good timin’, too.”

At this, Starlight frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Twilight shared her offense. “Yeah, are you implying that we’re the same?”

“Ooooooooh!” Dash and Pinkie shouted. “Burn!”

Applejack scoffed. “Do I look like Ember or somethin’? I know y’all are different, but yer letters are similar. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

After the two aforementioned mares exchanged a look, Starlight offered an apologetic smile. “Okay, okay, you’re right. Sorry, Applejack. Guess I’m still a little annoyed by Ember’s whole ‘You two are the same’ deal.” She brought her teacup to her lips. “But please, go on. Let me down gently.”

“Uh…” Applejack looked over Starlight’s letter. Then, she said with a half-hearted shrug, “I mean… I guess? There’s nothin' wrong with this one. It’s even more readable than Twilight’s.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry, Twi, but it’s true. Starlight wasn’t tryin’ to show off in this. In fact…” As Applejack read it over again, she couldn’t help but ask, “Why’d ya even write this in the first place? It’s mostly just sayin’ how good o’ friends we are. It’s only at the end that ya ask if we could get coffee or somethin’.” She cocked her head. “Were ya even askin’ me out?”

Finishing the last of her tea, Starlight shrugged. There was that shy grin again—along with a slight blush. “That… kind of depended on how you felt. I’m not exactly… forward with this kind of thing.”

The others shared a brief, but knowing, glance. “Gee,” Applejack replied, “I never would’ve guessed.”

“But it’s fine.” Starlight waved a forehoof. “Dating makes friendships more complicated, just like you said. Worth a try though.” She glanced at the clock on the opposite wall. “Oh, shoot!” Her eyes widened with panic. “I’m late for my spa appointment with Trixie!” As her horn glowed, she added, “Sorry about the letters, Applejack! I didn’t tell anypony but her, I swear! And I’ll let her down easy for you! Gotta go!”

In a flash of turquoise magic, Starlight was gone.

Spike raised a claw. “So… When are we gonna tell her?”

“Or them?” Fluttershy added.

“Don’t you push them!” Rarity smacked a forehoof on the table. “They have to work this out for themselves! If we interfere, it might ruin it.”

Fluttershy sank into her mane. “Y-you’re right. It’s just…” A quiet sigh. “It’s always so sad seeing something that’s so obvious to everypony else, except for the ones… in it.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Like you an’ Discord?”

Everypony but Fluttershy gasped. The latter sank even further into both her mane and her seat, almost melting into the marble.

“Applejack!” Rarity scolded. “Don’t push them, either!”

Rolling her eyes, Applejack picked up the last letter. “Anyhow. Fluttershy.” She briefly read over the letter, her gaze softening towards the wilting pegasus. “Honestly, sugarcube, this was probably the nicest o’ them all. I’m sorry to say I don’t feel the same fer ya either, but I appreciate the kind words.”

Beneath swaths of pink mane and crimson cheeks, Fluttershy replied in the ghost of a whisper, “Y-y-you’re welcome.”

With all her friends’ letters read, Applejack added them to the gigantic pile on the map table. “That’s all o’ ‘em.” She turned to the only friend in the room she hadn’t addressed. “Unless you sent me one an’ I missed it, Spike.”

Spike chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry, AJ. I didn’t.” He smiled at each of their friends. “Like Applejack and Starlight said, this can make friendships complicated. Plus, you’re all too old for me anyway.”

Everypony but Rarity laughed.

“Old?!” Rarity repeated, dumbstruck, her look of horror only adding to the humor.

Eventually, Rarity joined in too, but not without a harrumph first.

When they calmed down, Applejack looked between her friends. The disbelief, shock, and anger—and, truth be told, a little bit of fear—she had felt had dissipated with their laughter. “I’m glad y’all aren’t that mad ‘bout me turnin’ ya down. I was worried at least one o’ y’all would be.”

“Applejack, we’re your friends before anything else,” Twilight said. “No hard feelings. Right, girls?” The others murmured their agreement. “See? No big deal.”

“Yeah, I s’pose.” Applejack shook her head at the pile. “But now I gotta do this again with all o’ these ponies. I doubt they’ll all take it so well. No way I’m gonna get ma chores done today.”

An uneasy, tense silence lingered. Then, Rainbow Dash piped up from across the table, “Y’know… Since this was kinda our fault, I think we should be the ones to fix it.” She grabbed a stack of letters. “I’ll start on the weather crew.”

“Oooh! Oooh!” Pinkie pulled out her party cannon, then shoved hooffuls of the letters down the barrel. “I’ll do some too!” She stood up, wielding the cannon with a salute. “I won’t let you down, Applejack! I’ll let these mares and stallions down easy! With nice words, and one of my new cupcakes, too!”

Rarity sparked her aura in turn. “I suppose I’m responsible as well.” She gathered a stack of letters. “Would you like to come and help, Spikey Wikey?” she asked with a big, toothy grin.

“Sure!” Grabbing his long-forgotten gem cupcake, Spike popped it into his mouth, then said around a mouthful of sapphires, “I need to get out of the castle anyway. Twilight’s going through her reshelving phase again.”

“It’s not a phase, Spike! I just got a whole shipment of new books from Canterlot, and they need good homes!” Twilight turned to Applejack with a shamefaced grin. “Buuuuut… First, let me take the rest of these off your hooves.” She grabbed Applejack’s apple basket with her magic, organizing the remaining letters and placing them inside. “Fluttershy, think you can help me?”

“Oh, of course.” Once she joined Twilight’s side, Fluttershy turned to Applejack. “Sorry again for all of this, Applejack. We’ll make sure it’s taken care of. With no hard feelings from anypony.”

Applejack gave a firm nod, her earlier distress forgotten. “I know ya will, Shy. I know y'all will.”

The others nodded back.

As the group headed towards the door, Applejack rose to her hooves. “Hey, y’all…”

When they turned around, Applejack removed her hat and held it over her heart. “Um, thanks. Both fer sendin’ me yer own nice letters, an’ fer tryin’ to find me somepony. It… really means a lot that y’all would do that.”

As Applejack put her hat back on, the others left their stacks of love letters behind. There were more important matters to attend to at the moment. Like a group hug.

A bell jingled when Applejack entered the United Pegasi Service office. Behind the counter, a smiling, walleyed pegasus turned around to greet her. “Oh, hey, Applejack!”

“Good mornin’, Derpy.” As she joined the mailmare at the counter, Applejack asked, “Y’all wouldn’t happen to have that same mailbox I bought last week, but in a, uh… bigger version?”

“Why?” Derpy chuckled. “To hold all your love letters?”

“Uh, s-somethin’ like that.”

“Let me go check in the back.” Derpy rushed off, leaving a gust of dust behind her.

Applejack cleared the dust from her face, then looked around the UPS office. Past the counter was the mailroom. Several mailponies rummaged through an avalanche of mail… and put most of it into a basket labeled “Sweet Apple Acres”.

Tugging at the brim of her hat, Applejack hid her burning face. Her friends had done a better job of promoting her than even they had thought. Or would admit.

Less than a minute later, Derpy returned, bearing the gift of an oversized, stone-gray mailbox on her back. “G-got you our biggest model, Applejack. Should be more than big enough.”

Biting her tongue—her mind far too close to the gutter between Dash’s letter and Rara’s… picture—Applejack hoisted the mailbox onto her own back. Heavier than the other one for sure, but nothing she couldn’t handle. “Thanks, Derpy. How much do I owe ya?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it! I saw what I did to your mailbox after this morning’s run, so, uh, it’s on the house.” Derpy looked back at the mailroom, then brought a forehoof to her lips. “Just don’t tell my boss, alright?”

Applejack made a quick Pinkie Promise. “Ma lips are sealed.”

As the bubbly pegasus thanked her, celebrating her continued employment, Applejack couldn’t help but smile. However, when the enormous pile of outgoing mail came into view again, Applejack felt her stomach turn.

“Say, uh, Derpy. Did ya, um…” Dang. This was harder when she wasn’t talking to one of her best friends. Them taking responsibility for this part of the fiasco was a good call. “S-send me one o’ them letters, by chance?”

“One of the love letters?” Derpy blinked, then shook her head.

“Well, I just wanted to let ya know I’m flattered, bu—buh. Wuh.” Applejack felt her jaw unhinge.

Derpy raised both forehooves. “N-now, don’t take this the wrong way! I mean, I saw the exposé in this month’s edition of Hot To Trot, just like everypony else. Pl-plus, y’know, I’ve, uh, lived here for quite a while.” A nervous chuckle. “You’re a real fine pony and all, Applejack. Don’t get me wrong. I just didn’t wanna jump on the bandwagon.” She shrugged. “Though, I didn’t know it would be this big of a bandwagon.”

“... Oh.” Applejack felt her jaw close. A new nausea rose through her stomach. She felt its bile creep up her esophagus and dry up her tongue. Her heart was beating a little faster again. “S-so, um. In that case…”

Was she really gonna do this? Practice made perfect, sure, and this was the only pony she knew of so far who hadn't already done the hard work for her. But did she even like Derpy that way?

Well… maybe? She was cute, that was for sure. And sweet. And a hard worker. Those were good qualities. Plus, she had a foal already—Dinky. Sure, it might be a little weird, considering that she was Apple Bloom’s age, but Granny Smith would be happy about it…

Though she knew she was getting ahead of herself, Applejack couldn’t stop her thoughts from racing past her. Gritting her teeth, she tried to focus on keeping it simple. After all, Applejack had wanted something simple to start… Not that she was, necessarily, but…

“W-w-would ya… um…” Applejack hated how nauseating these words tasted. “Like to, uh… M-maybe get coffee sometime? O-or somethin’.”

When Derpy smiled, Applejack’s heart leapt—

“Oh, that’s very sweet of you, Applejack…” Derpy blushed. “But… I’m afraid I have to say no.”

—Only for it to tumble off a cliff.

“... Oh,” Applejack said again, feeling dumber than ever. Her ears flattened as she looked away. “Oh, uh, n-no problem. Figured I’d just… uh…”

“Put yourself out there?”

Applejack swallowed. “Y-yeah.”

“I get it.” Though she was still blushing, Derpy seemed mighty casual about the whole thing. “It’s really hard, isn’t it? Even if you have half of Ponyville wanting to… uh, wear your hat.”

“... Pl-please don’t talk ‘bout ma hat right now.”

“Sorry.” Derpy chuckled. “Anyway, I’m just not looking to date anypony right now. It’s hard enough working full-time and taking care of Dinky, you know?”

When Applejack met Derpy’s gaze, Applejack saw something familiar reflected back in her crossed eyes. “Yeah. It’s… real hard, when ya’ve got so much to do. So much to take care o’, an’ so many ponies countin’ on ya.” The weight of something she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying joined that of the hefty mailbox. “It makes ya not want to do anythin’ fer yerself sometimes.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Derpy smiled. “But you have to do things for yourself sometimes, Applejack. Otherwise, you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

“Yer right.” Applejack's smile felt more genuine than it had in a long while. “Th-thanks, Derpy. An’, um, s-sorry if I made anythin’ awkward fer ya.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for. No hard feelings. And if I ever change my mind,” Derpy added with a coy grin, “I’ll let you know.” Winking with both eyes, Derpy headed back towards the mailroom.

Applejack muttered under her breath, “R-right.” Before she could make even more bad decisions, she left the UPS office, the overhead bell jingling as she stepped back into the spring sunlight.

The new mailbox was a pain to set up.

Tearing down the other one—and stomping it flat for good measure—had at least been fun. There was little time for her thoughts to rage when she had metal and wood underhoof. Setting up the new one, on the other hoof, was a chore and a half. By the time she had finished driving its stake into the ground, the sun had risen to the highest point in the sky.

Wiping a forehoof across her brow, Applejack looked over her work. The new mailbox was bigger than one of her apple baskets. It would easily hold the heap of new letters she’d spotted in the mailroom, along with the others soon to come.

While Rarity hadn’t mentioned it, Applejack hoped there was a way she could convince the editors of Hot To Trot to retract that article. Part of her wondered what could have been written there to send half of Ponyville running her way. The other part of her just wanted this nonsense to end.

Although she could place some blame on Dash and Pinkie, the majority of it was squarely on Rarity’s shoulders. Oh well. Cat was already out of the bag. And this one seemed rather pusillanimous to get back in.

Yes, she’d checked the dictionary when she’d gotten home.

Satisfied with the new mailbox at last, Applejack decided a lunch break was in order. She had only taken a few steps when the sight of a familiar filly cresting the hill made her grimace.

“Apple Bloom,” Applejack warned as she approached, “why aren’t ya still in school? Don’t tell me yer skippin’.”

Apple Bloom bounded down the path. “Ee-nope! Miss Cheerilee let us go home early today!”

“An’ why’s that?”

“Not really sure.” Apple Bloom shrugged. “Twilight came by durin’ recess to talk to her ‘bout somethin’, an’ when we came back in, she said we could go home.” After a moment, she rubbed her chin. “Though, I think she had a bottle o’ cider on her desk…”

Applejack chewed on her lips. “O-oh. I… see…”

“I know I said I was gonna be home after crusadin’ today, but I wanted to come by an’ surprise ya! An’... maybe… actually do ma chores.” Apple Bloom's joy gave way to a guilty grin.

“Oh?” Applejack raised a cynical eyebrow. “Yer not gonna pawn them all off on yer big brother, on account o’ correctly guessin’ ma sexual orientation?”

Apple Bloom visibly gulped. “Ee-noooope.”

“Good. I was just ‘bout to have some lunch, so you can start by helpin’ there. An’ doin’ dishes afterwards.”

They started down the path to the farmhouse. Applejack’s stomach growled, thoughts of a sandwich with crisp greens and apples spurring her forward. From the corner of her eye, she saw Apple Bloom stop in her tracks, digging a forehoof at the dirt. “What’s the matter, sugarcube? Somethin’ got ya down?”

“Yeah… It’s just…” Apple Bloom sighed. “Applejack, I have a confession to make.”

“Oh?” Applejack sat down in the dirt. “I’m listenin’.”

Apple Bloom sat down as well, fidgeting. Nothing but the distant sounds of baaing sheep and singing birds interrupted their silence.

Then, with a deep breath, Apple Bloom said in one long burst, “Me an’ Sweetie Belle an’ Scootaloo heard Rarity talkin’ ’bout how you wanted to try an’ find a special somepony but you were real nervous ‘bout askin’ anypony yerself so we told everypony in town ’bout it an’ that’s the reason the mailbox got too full an’ we had to get a new one an’ why ya had all those letters an’ I knew that’s what they were this mornin’ but I felt bad ‘cause you didn’t look very happy an’ I was gonna say somethin’ but I chickened out an’ I was almost late to school an’ I just want ya to be happy, Applejack!”

As she finished, Apple Bloom almost keeled over. Applejack caught her at the last second. “Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa, there, sugarcube. Calm down now. Breathe! Breathe…”

Between Apple Bloom’s rapid, heaving breaths, Applejack just shook her head. “Apple Bloom, you an’ yer friends didn’t have to do that. Shoot, ma friends didn’t have to do that, either, but they did it anyway.”

Any trace of Applejack’s irritation faded away with her laughter. She wiped away a single mirthful tear before raising the filly’s chin. “I appreciate what you were tryin’ to do, sugarcube, but, next time… just leave it to me. It’s ma business, after all, an’ I’d like to keep it that way.”

“But…” Apple Bloom gently pushed Applejack’s forehoof away. “But I know it’s yer business. That’s not the problem. The problem is that you don’t do anythin’ ‘bout it.”

Applejack shrugged. “I guess I never really thought ‘bout tryin’ to get a special somepony o’ ma own. Not until Big Mac an’ Sugar Belle finally got together.”

“But why not?” Apple Bloom’s eyes widened. “Don’t you want to have yer first crush, too?”

Applejack laughed. “First crush? Hah! Sugar Belle ain’t Big Mac’s first crush. Nowhere close. She’s just the first pony he’s, well, tried to get with. Even if he wasn’t doin’ that well tryin’ on his own.” Applejack shook her head at the thought. They’d wasted so many apples on that…

“Wait.” Applejack swore she could see the lightbulb flick on above Apple Bloom’s head. “You’ve been in love before, too?”

“I’m not sure I’d go that far, but… maybe.” Applejack tried not to think on it too much. “But in any case, I think I’m gonna wait on it right now.”

“Wait on it? After ya just said you were wantin’ to start tryin’?” If Apple Bloom tilted her head any further, she actually would keel over. “Why’d ya change yer mind?”

“It’s just… too much fer me, right now, Apple Bloom.” Rising to her hooves, Applejack pulled her little sister up with her. “I’ve got so much goin’ on with the farm, an’ ma friends, an’ the family… ma life is already full.”

“Sounds like excuses to me.”

Applejack’s brow furrowed. “Well, I’m entitled to ‘em, aren’t I?”

“Applejack,” Apple Bloom said with a roll of her eyes, “you probably had a hundred ponies write to ya. Maybe even more. An’ yer tellin’ me that not one is worth givin’ a try?”

To Applejack’s chagrin, Apple Bloom could be quite perceptive. Taken aback, Applejack chewed over her words, letting them digest in her frightened esophagus and upset stomach and other places her renewed adrenaline flowed.

The conversation with Derpy came to mind, as did the one with her friends around the table. If Applejack was honest with herself, she would admit that some of those rejections were harder than others. Some of those letters made her heart race for a reason other than humiliation.

With her little sister staring up at her, eyes narrowed, tapping a forehoof on the dirt, Applejack couldn’t deny it any longer.

“Fine. I’m—scared, okay?” Applejack sighed. “I—I’ve never done anythin’ like this before. I told ma friends I thought I was ready, but I thought wrong. I even tried askin' somepony out today—”

Apple Bloom jumped in her face. “Who?!”

“Doesn’t matter!” Applejack reined in her tone and volume before continuing, “A-anyway, it was so embarrassin,’ an’ I felt so stupid, like I haven’t ‘bout anythin’ else. I could’ve given Shy a run fer her bits.” A heavier sigh. “I’m… just… not there yet. Even if anypony else thinks I am, I’m not. So I’m not gonna do that to maself, until I’m ready.” She finished with a third sigh, “Make sense?”

It took a moment, but Apple Bloom gave a thoughtful nod. “I guess it’s kinda like gettin’ yer cutiemark, then?”

“Whatcha mean?”

“Well, ya can’t force it,” Apple Bloom began, “even if you want it more than anythin’.” The self-aware chuckle that followed sounded… surprisingly mature for her age. “An’ sometimes, it turns out to be somethin’ you never would’ve expected. Sometimes it is, sure, but sometimes it’s not. An’ it all comes in its own time. Different fer everypony.”

As she looked down into those eyes—innocent, yet wise in their own ways—Applejack beamed with pride. “Yer absolutely right, Apple Bloom. It’s just like a cutiemark. But!” She raised a forehoof. “Please… Do me a favor, an’ don’t try to help with this one, alright?”

“O’ course, Applejack!” With characteristic cheer, Apple Bloom hopped along as started back towards the farmhouse. “I think yer old enough to find this one on yer own anyhow.”

“Heh. I hope yer right.”

The journey back was a short one. When they reached the door, Applejack took off her hat and laid it over her heart. “Thanks, sugarcube.” She put it back on. “Sometimes, I swear yer wise beyond yer years.”

“Awww!” Apple Bloom leaned up to nuzzle her cheek. “An’ yer real wise, Applejack, an’ real—whoa.”

“‘Whoa,’ what?”

When Apple Bloom didn’t reply, Applejack followed where her eyes had fallen.

She grabbed the photo… Again.

Too late.

… Again.

“Um… Applejack… was that… Countess Coloratura?”

Sweat poured down Applejack’s mane and coat. “No, it was… R-R-R-Rara.”

“Oh. Okay.” Tilting her head, Apple Bloom asked one more question. One innocent little question. One that would keep Applejack up at night more often than Big Mac’s thin walls, the house “ghost,” or the mountain of letters that would surely grace her brand-spankin’-new mailbox the next morning.

“What was she doin’ with all those beads?”