Sugarcubes

by Mark Garg von Herbalist

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life
Length: 7280

I do believe that the title sounds like it belongs to a movie trying too hard to get an Oscar.

It's Hearts and Hooves Day, where love is everywhere and no one is alone… Well, no one but Applejack, that is. But that's okay, there's always the local speed dating place for quick colts and pleasure!

(This how to NOT do a comedy.)

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-09-20 19:34:02 UTC

Heart Four All

SUGARCUBES

***

Applejack is enjoying her nice, peaceful, and all that is good slumber with a smile on her face to prove how much she’s enjoying her rest. She just loves the way the quilt caresses her coat whenever she shifts her position, or how her soft and fluffy pillow is always soaking up any amount of drool that escapes her mouth without hesitation. And then there is the actual bed; the foundation of her comfort. Without the firm spring mattress, her quilt and pillow would mean nothing without it! However, no amount of fluffy blankets, super absorbent pillows, or springy mattresses can protect her from the wrath of the sunbeams that peek through her curtains on a daily basis.

Applejack groans and folds the pillow over her head when the inevitable sunbeam breaches her curtain defense and stops conveniently over her eye. She mumbles to herself and shifts her position so that she’s lying face down on her bed with the pillow completely covering her head. Then, as if the sun and the farm have plotted against her, a random rooster in the distance crows obnoxiously.

“I’ll get up in five minutes,” mumbles Applejack in response to the rooster’s crows.

“Yay! It’s Hearts and Hooves Day!” yells Apple Bloom as she bolts down the stairs; the volume of her voice literally shaking the walls.

Applejack groans. “Make that ten.”

15 Minutes Later...

Applejack yelps as she feels a sharp tug on her messy, blonde tail, followed by short air time and a face full of hardwood flooring. Applejack yells colorful words as she gets to her feet and glares at the only pony able to do that to her.

“Dang it, Big Mac, I was going t’ get up soon!” says Applejack in a mixed tone of anger and defensiveness.

Big Mac merely smiles proudly of his achievement and walks out of her room, saying something about breakfast being ready. Applejack mumbles to herself and walks to the only bathroom in their home. She tries to open the door but finds that it’s locked and hears Apple Bloom talking to herself over some commotion. The farmer sighs and heads towards the dining room where Big Mac and Granny Smith are eating their breakfast, which consists of the usual: oatmeal, pancakes, toast, and apple juice.

“Another day, another pancake,” mumbles Applejack to no one particular.

“Eeyup,” says Big Mac in his usual tone while reading the newspaper with some reading glasses. Today’s front page story is titled: ‘Blueblood and Trixie Dating?’ with a picture of the two world class jerks sitting at a table, gladly taking in all the attention with arrogant smiles stretched across their faces.

Granny Smith says something that no one can really understand, but from what Applejack got out of it, it has something to do with Hearts and Hooves Day and back in her day. Applejack nurses her pancakes and apple juice, and wishes that her body would wake up already. Her mind is ready to go out on the fields to buck some apples, but her body is so desperate for rest that she’s certain her legs will move on their own accord and force her back under the covers.

“Applejack did ya shower yet?” asks Granny Smith in her old, screechy voice.

Applejack sighs and takes a bite out of her pancake before saying: “No, Granny, I haven’t showered yet.”

Applejack immediately gets a slap to the back of her head, making her grunt and lurch forward; she tenderly rubs the smart pain on the back of her noggin a split second later while trying to keep her glare under control.

“Dang nabbit, child! How many time do I have t’ tell ya to wash up before ya sit at my table!” scolds Granny Smith. “Why can’t ya be more like Big MacIntosh? He always washes up.”

“Eeyup,” says Big Mac, smiling smugly from behind his newspaper, prompting a glare from Applejack.

“Now go wash up this instant before I beat ya with a spoon, ya hear?”

Applejack shuffles out of her seat and goes straight to the bathroom, thankfully Apple Bloom is gone, but unfortunately the filly left an unholy mess pretty much anywhere a mess could be... even on the ceiling. When Applejack sees a disgusting, greenish goop hanging from the ceiling with little droplets falling to the floor her jaw drops and her eyelid twitches as she takes a step back, and when the goop falls from the ceiling and splatters in front of her she screams: “APPLE BLOOOOOOOOM!”

“Ah didn’t do anything!” yells Apple Bloom defensively, a second later there is scampering on the first floor and the door slams shut.

“That girl’s gonna be cleanin’ the whole barn tonight,” grumbles Applejack.

It takes Applejack a good two hours to clean up Apple Bloom’s mess, which means Big Mac is probably already out bucking apples. She climbs in the tub and looks out the window to see that her suspicions have been proven correct. Big Mac is getting the job done with easy, one-legged bucks and looking bored, too. Applejack is about to head out to help her brother, but when she sees Rarity approaching him, looking stunning in her flowery fedora, she can only stare. She can’t hear what they are saying, but from the way Big Mac’s nodding and pointing at the house, she fears that they might be talking about her. Either that, or Rarity is trying to flirt with her brother again. Whatever the case may be, Applejack is in no mood to deal with Rarity’s shenanigans. She does have a lot of work to do after all; such as bucking apples, storing apples, selling apples, making apple dishes for dinner, cleaning the barn -wait, that’s for Apple Bloom... cleaning the silo, cleaning the farming equipment, cleaning the-

“Hello, darling!” says Rarity happily. Applejack screams and falls on her back in the tub; Rarity winces and looks down to see if her friend is okay. “Are you okay, Applejack? That looked painful.”

“What’re ya doin’ in mah bathroom?” asks Applejack harshly, wincing as she gets out of the tub.

“Oh, I just came by to see how you’re doing on Hearts and Hooves Day. And in my defense, the door was open and you were staring out the window.”

“I was thinkin’ about stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Chores. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work t’ do.”

Applejack goes to her room sits on her bed -which almost makes her pass out right then and there- and tries to put on her red hair bands, but Rarity pulls them away with her magic, saying: “You aren’t going anywhere looking like that.”

“I’m gonna be on the farm gettin’ dirty anyway,” says Applejack crossly.

“Wow, you certainly are moody this morning.” Rarity tests the bed and scowls when she hears the springs squeak under her weight, then her scowl turns to a look of absolute horror when she rubs her hooves on the quilt. “My word, no wonder you are moody. How can anypony possibly sleep in such dreadful conditions?”

Applejack tries to yank her hair bands out of Rarity’s magical grip, but the unicorn holds fast.

“I’ve had that mattress since I was just a filly,” says Applejack. Rarity’s jaw drops and her magic disappears, thus releasing Applejack’s hair bands. Upon retrieving her precious bands, Applejack quickly puts them on and her rustic ponytail looks return in all their frazzled glory. “Besides, this here bed is like a member of mah family. I even named it ‘Springy’.”

Rarity’s jaw closes and she looks at Applejack, unimpressed by her friend’s defense.

“You need a new mattress,” says Rarity in a monotonous voice.

“No I don’t! He’s fine just the way it is. See?” Applejack pushes down on it and it makes a horrible, rusted squeaking noise that sounds like a cry for someone to perform an act of mercy killing; this makes both mares cringe. “Nothin’ to it, he’s just a bit... old... and maybe worn around the springs with some bed bugs in it.”

“You're getting a new mattress.” Applejack opens her mouth to protest, but Rarity puts her hoof over it and says: “But not until we have some fun first!” with stars in her eyes and a beaming smile taking up her whole face.

Applejack spits Rarity’s hoof out of her mouth. “I have work t’ do, Rarity. Can’t ya bug Twilight?”

“She’s researching tachyons.”

“Spike?”

The fashionista sighs sadly. “Busy with Twilight.”

“Pinkie Pie?”

Rarity looks up in shallow though. “I believe she’s baking cakes with Joe.”

“Fluttershy?”

Rarity grins. “Massaging bears.”

“Rainbow Dash?”

Rarity’s unimpressed, half lidded eyes are enough to answer that question.

Applejack sighs and puts her stetson on. “Look, Rarity, I don’t know what yer plannin’, but I got work to do, and-”

Applejack turns around and her pupils shrink to that of pinpricks and her eyelid twitches upon seeing Granny Smith standing in the doorway with a spoon in her mouth.

“I tolth ya to take a shthower, Applethack,” says Granny Smith dangerously, her voice being distorted by the spoon.

“I was gonna do it soon,” says Applejack uneasily.

“‘Sthoon’ better mean ‘Now’, mithy.”

Applejack and Rarity look at each other and then back at Granny Smith.

“Yep,” chuckles Applejack nervously, taking off her hair bands and stetson a second later, “I was just um... yeah, I’ll go do that right now.”

A couple of minutes later the warm water sprays out of the showerhead and Applejack finds that the massaging sensation she’s getting is putting her to sleep. Not that she’s complaining. All of her knots dissolve and her toned muscles relax to the point where her body lays down in the tub all on its own. Applejack sighs blissfully, folds her hooves under her chin and closes her eyes. The droplets barraging her are heavenly to say the least, and she can literally feel the grainy grime of yesterday’s labor slide off of her pelt and tangled hair. What comes next is a welcoming darkness and a snore.

“Applejack!” calls Rarity.

Applejack screams, jumps to her hooves, pulls the curtain over the tub and pokes her head out from her cover to give Rarity the most murderous gaze her tired eyes can muster. The water is also cold for some reason.

“Why are ya in mah bathroom this time!” yells Applejack.

Rarity steps back, shrugging and saying: “What? We’re naked most of the time, so I see no harm in seeing what’s taking you so long to shower.”

“I’m showering! That calls fer some privacy!”

“Oh Applejack, you need to loosen up. And I know just how to do that.” Rarity pulls open the curtain, much to Applejack’s annoyance and discomfort. “We need to have a girls day out!”

Applejack gives Rarity a deadpanned look and flat out says: “No.”

“But it’s Hearts and Hooves Day! Us lonely mares need to stick together.”

Applejack pulls the curtain shut. “You just wanna find some way t’ pick on me since everypony else is too busy or somethin’ for ya.”

Rarity frowns and pulls the shower curtain open, revealing the soaked and ticked off orange mare. “That’s not the whole reason. I just-”

Applejack pulls the curtain shut again in a feeble attempt to hide herself from Rarity. “Now I’m definitely not goin’ anywhere with you!”

“It is our duty to the Elements of Harmony-” Rarity pulls open the curtain again and Applejack growls at her, “to strengthen our friendship, Applejack! Besides, what do you have planned for Hearts and Hooves Day, anyway?”

Applejack reluctantly switches the shower off, hops out of the tub and grabs a towel while saying: “A little somethin’ I like t’ call chores.”

“So, you have no special somepony for you, just dirt and apples?”

Applejack nods and half-heartedly dries herself off to the best of her abilities. Then she heads to her room to put on her red hair bands and stetson. When that is taken care of, Applejack heads outside with Rarity trailing close behind and constantly nagging about why they need to go the spa, have a salad, try on dresses, and so on and so forth for a good five minutes before Applejack finally snaps.

“Alright! Gosh darnit, I do have somethin’ planned fer Hearts and Hooves Day!” snaps Applejack, making Rarity shrink back slightly. “I’m gonna be spendin’ a lotta time with mah own special surgercubes when I’m done with mah chores!”

“Chores are done,” says Big Mac dryly while pulling a cart full of apples past the two mares.

“What?” Applejack turns around to see that Big Mac had somehow managed to buck all the trees that needed bucking, plowed the fields and somehow made the silo sparkle. “Phooey.”

“So,” says Rarity slyly, “am I going to be meeting your ‘sugarcubes’?”

“NO!”

And Applejack bolts down the path, leaving a trail of kicked up dirt and a very confused Rarity in her wake.

Applejack runs as fast as her legs can carry her all the way to the very back of Sweet Apple Acres, where the abandoned barn is. The barn’s red paint has faded and is chipping off in large chunks in places to reveal rotting wood, the roof is missing panels, and the gaping holes in the wall have been poorly covered with planks of wood. The derelict structure may be an eyesore, but that rundown building has her precious sugarcubes locked safely away inside and when she gets to them she’ll enjoy every second she has with them.

Applejack skids to a stop, panting, in front of the barn door, which is sealed shut with a crisscross pattern of chains held together by a brand new padlock. Applejack, still breathing heavily, glances to the left. To the right. Over her shoulder. Up to the clouds. Nothing.

She pulls off her stetson and carefully removes a key from the interior rim and fiddles with the lock until it clicks open and falls to the ground. She gradually pulls off the chains, wincing when the chains’ saw off little bits of the wood on the door, and when the chains are off she drapes them around her neck and proceeds inside.

The interior is dark, with the only light being beams of sunlight that illuminate the dust particles that float in their way. The place stinks of rot and the floorboards creak and groan with every step Applejack takes as she makes her way towards the very back where they used to store milk. She pushes open the rusted metal door and walks inside the enormous fridge to see her precious beckoning her with a holy light around it (courtesy of a small hole that has worn in).

Applejack can hear choir music and hymns dedicated to her prized possession as she gets closer. When she gets to it, she cradles the glass jar to her chest and shuts her eyes, smiling.

“Hello, sugarcubes,” says Applejack lovingly, “did ya miss me? I missed you.”

Applejack shakes the jar and grins as she hears the little sugarcubes inside bounce off of each other and the glass wall. She then twists the cap off and shakes out four of the sugar-y cubes of goodness in the bowl of her hoof and quickly -and sloppily- licks them up. She closes her eyes and moans as the sweet little cubes dissolve on her tongue. She pours out four more of them and shudders as the good taste tantalizes her tastebuds. Then she pours out four more and-

“My, my, you really like those sugarcubes,” quips Rarity as a playful smile stretches across her face.

Applejack screams, and quickly closes the lid and hides the jar of sugarcubes behind her.

“Rarity, don’tcha have any sense of privacy!?” scolds Applejack.

“If I did I wouldn’t be running a boutique,” retorts Rarity. Then she levitates the jar from behind Applejack and brings it to her face and reads the label. “‘Heart Four All Sugarcubes. Where love is never rejected’.”

“It’s ‘Love For All’,” growls Applejack, eyes now slits, teeth barred, and legs wound up for a bone crushing pounce.

Rarity giggles and hands it back to Applejack. “I know, darling, I was just teasing you.” Then she sighs, sits down, and looks around the drabby place. “But in all seriousness, you need to get out.”

“I’m out all day, everyday, bucking apples for your cider and pie.”

Rarity shakes her head. “No, I’m talking about getting a coltfriend. You really need a special somepony if you’re... um... yeah...”

“‘Yeah’ what?” sneers Applejack, her cheeks puffed out and drool seeping through her teeth as she sucks on way too many sugarcubes.

“You should come with me.”

Applejack swallows her sugarcubes, sits on the ground, and folds her hooves across her chest while looking up with her eyes closed. Rarity frowns and sits directly in front of Applejack.

“Look, Applejack, I know you and I have our differences, but please, pleasepleaseplease, pleeeeease come with me to Ponyville!” begs Rarity, positioning herself so that she looks as though she’s begging for deliverance at a pew. Rarity adds in bambi eyes and drooped ears with a begging whimper in hopes that it’ll give Applejack a change of heart.

“We’ve already been over this,” says Applejack, retaining her position.

Rarity sighs, stands up, and sticks her nose in the air while walking out.

“Very well, Applejack, you leave me no choice,” says Rarity regretfully, “once I have my fun I’ll have to tell the girls about your sugarcubes.”

Applejack’s eyes open and she stares at Rarity; her orange coat pales at the prospect of becoming the laughing stock of Ponyville. How will she be able to sell apples if everyone thinks of her as a sugar obsessed loner!?

“You wouldn’t,” says Applejack nervously.

“I would,” huffs Rarity, then she looks at Applejack smugly and says: “And I will. That is unless you come with me to strengthen our friendship.”

“You don’t strengthen friendship through blackmail!”

“I’m afraid that that is the only option we have left.”

Rarity turns all the way around and smiles at Applejack while the farm pony glares at her.

“So, what do you want to do, today?” asks Rarity innocently.

“How about we go someplace where we can beat the snot outta each other,” says Applejack evilly.

Rarity taps her chin, humming as the gears in her brain turn.

“Hmm, that’s not very couth, though,” says Rarity thoughtfully, “what we can do is go to the cafe.”

“No.”

“Or the theater.”

“Nope.”

“Or do a speed dating session!” says Rarity with a big, cheese eating grin.

Applejack visibly recoils and sneers. “Oh hay no!”

“Oh it’ll be fun!” squeals Rarity; she dances in her spot as she thinks about all the good times she had from doing such an activity. “I already tried it and even Fluttershy and Twilight tried it, and they both had fun!”

“Last I recall, Fluttershy cried and refused t’ leave her house fer a week after goin’ t’ that speed dating thing,” points out Applejack with a hint of smugness in her tone, thinking that if she pins that on speed dating then Rarity will reconsider.

“That wasn’t because of the speed dates,” counters Rarity. Her smile disappears and her whole body droops. “That was because somepony mailed her something... vulgar in nature.”

Applejack’s jaw drops. “Why would anypony do that to poor Fluttershy!?”

“Because perverts thrive on the corruption of innocence, obviously,” says Rarity snobbishly while adjusting her mane with a quick flick of her hoof for no apparent reason other than to show off her beautiful curls.

Applejack’s eyes narrow and Rarity smiles nervously and takes a step back.

“Well, let’s get to The Quickie for quick colts and pleasure,” she says, now trying to contain her nervousness with a happy trot back outside.

Applejack stomps her hoof on the dirty floor and yells: “I ain’t goin’ to no speed datin’ place!”

At The Quickie...

“Phooey,” pouts Applejack, now sitting at a simple table with her forehooves folded across each other and plain placard with her name on it written in front of her.

Out of all the mares in the building, Applejack is the only one who looks like she’s ready to murder someone, which she is; she’s really thinking about putting Rarity through an apple masher. She pulls her stetson down to hide her wrathful gaze, but no amount of stetson coverage can hide her grouchy body language. While Applejack is fuming in her seat, Rarity uses her telekinesis to lift the hat off of the farmer’s head and bring it to her.

“What the hay!”

Applejack jumps off of her seat and takes a threatening step towards Rarity as she holds the hat a good dozen feet out of the earth pony’s range.

“You’ll get the hat back when you go through the speed date sessions,” says Rarity, smirking.

“Give it back or I’ll buck you up so badly ya-”

“Sugarcubes.”

“Gosh darnit.” Applejack sits back in her seat and looks at the mares eyeing her. “What’re y’all lookin’ at?”

The mares staring at her give a mixed, mumbled response while shifting their gazes away from her.

DING!

A line of stallions walk out and take seats in front of the mares, and a second later, all chatter breaks loose. Applejack looks at the stallion in front of her; he has a grayish coat and a slicked back green mane and tail with a flower as a cutie mark, and his stupid smile is doing a fantastic job of grinding Applejack’s gears.

“Hi, I’m ‘Colt Kicker’,” says the stallion, still smiling.

“Applejack,” is her grumpy response.

Colt gasps. “Wow, you’re a hick.” Applejack’s jaw drops and her ears fold back, but Colt is oblivious to this, either that, or just plain stupid. “I’ve never seen a hick so close before. My daddy always said that hicks sounded funny because of generations of inbreeding.”

“‘Daddy’? Oh fer the love of- Yer just a child! What’re ya doin’ here?”

Colt shrugs. “I was bored, and I figured if I wanted a shot at Princess Luna I might as well see mares in their natural environment.”

Applejack grits her teeth and drags her hooves back towards her just so they don’t clock the idiot in the jaw. As she drags her hooves back they make a screeching sound and the couples on either side look at her irritably while clutching their ears. Colt also cringes and shrinks back a bit.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“What do you think?” growls Applejack through gritted teeth.

“...Yes?”

Applejack slams her head on the table and screams; she can’t believe the stupidity of the pony in front of her, thankfully the table muffles her scream and most are too busy talking to notice. But alas, the poor mare has to put up with Colt’s idiocy for five minutes before-

DING!

Applejack hears Colt say his farewell and move to the mare next to her for torment. Her ear perks up slightly when she hears another pony take a seat in front of her. She lifts her head up and sees Filthy Rich in front of her. Applejack raises an eyebrow and sits up, utterly confused as to why the richest pony in Ponyville is sitting in front of her in a speed dating nightmare.

“What’re you doin’ here, Filthy?” she asks.

Filthy Rich frowns and in an icy cold tone he says: “It’s Rich.”

“Mah apologies, Rich. But what’re ya doin’ here?”

Filthy Rich smiles and relaxes in his seat. “I’m here for the pegasi.”

“What’s wrong with earth ponies?”

“Not my type.”

“Unicorns?”

“I was married to a unicorn. Worst. Marriage. Ever.”

Applejack opens her mouth to say something, but closes it when she can’t find the words. When the words return, she opens her mouth once again, only for the words to elude her once more.

“Say,” says Filthy Rich quietly while leaning forward, smiling eagerly. Applejack stares at him quizzically and he has to motion her to come closer, and when she leans in he asks: “Is your friend, Rainbow Dash, available?”

Applejack scoffs and leans back in her seat. “No.”

Filthy Rich sighs sadly and slumps in his chair. “Darn it. She’s a lesbian, isn’t she? I should’ve known.”

“She’s dating Soarin.”

Filthy Rich’s ears perk up and he gets a hopeful smile. “Really? Are they in an open relationship?”

Applejack face-hoofs and groans in disbelief; she knows without a shred of doubt that she’s in for the long haul now.

DING!

A black alicorn with red stripes and blood red eyes sits in front of her, showing off his predatory teeth with a sinister grin. Applejack scowls and leans back.

“Oh hay no!”

The alicorn’s grin is immediately replaced with a saddened frown, and he looks down, sniffling.

DING!

A massive unicorn with a neon blue coat and a neon green and yellow tail and mane sits in front of her. The light reflects off of him at an obnoxious intensity, forcing Applejack to shield her eyes from the menace.

“I am Oh Sea!” proclaims the unicorn, his voice is so loud that the soundwaves push back Applejack’s mane and cheeks. “And you, Madam Applejack, shall be my marefriend immediately!”

“Go buck yerself!” snaps Applejack.

Oh Sea scoffs and shifts his position so that he’s looking away from her with his nose in the air while Applejack fixes her mane.

“Twilight Sparkle’s more attractive anyway,” says Oh Sea resentfully, his voice at a normal level now. Not that Applejack can hear him, anyway, due to the ringing in her ears.

DING!

A nervous, fidgeting pegasus with a brown coat and white spots and a black and white mane and tail is now in front of her. He has been silent for the past four minutes, constantly fidgeting and mumbling to himself, but right as Applejack is about to say something he leans in and in a terrified whisper he says: “I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You and me, both, pardner,” says Applejack with a small smirk.

“Really? Oh thank God!” the pegasus leans back and smiles with relief. “I thought I was the only human here until I met you.”

Applejack’s smirk disappears and her eyebrow arches up. “What’re ya talkin’ about?”

The odd pegasus points at her, his ears now drooping. “You... You aren’t a human?”

“Um... no. What’s a ‘human’?”

The pegasus slams his hooves on the table, furiously screaming: “Son of a-”

He’s tackled to the ground by a titan of a pegasus named Roid Rage before he can finish.

DING!

“Well, this is... um... awkward,” says Applejack uneasily while rubbing the back of her neck.

“Yeah...” says a stallion version of herself as he looks down biting his lip.

DING!

DING!

DING!

DING!

DING!

DING!

DING!

DING!

DING!

DING!

Applejack groans and rests her head on her hooves while being sure to give Rarity a murderous glare out of the corner of her eye. But her fashion obsessed friend is too busy talking to Thunderlane; she’s probably trying to flirt the pegasus into helping her move furniture or something of the like again.

The whole event has been torturous for the poor farmer; aside from how awkward it is to be seeing familiar faces, including stallions she thought were in relationships, most of the meets were disastrous. From being ragged on for being a hick, to being flat out rejected because she wasn’t their type and everything in between, she had heard it all in the past hour and odd minutes.

Applejack gives a silent prayer of thanks to Celestia when the last of the stallions approaches her table. This one is an earth pony with a bluish-gray coat, a dark mane and tail, with the tail being cropped, and he has three clovers as cutie mark and warm, blue eyes. Applejack also notices that he has a mustache, and unfortunately for her and her country mannerisms she can’t help but stare at it. However, there is something oddly familiar about the stallion in front of her, whose now looking nervous because of her constant staring.

“Weren’t you in Appleloosa?” asks Applejack suddenly; she tries to keep her eyes locked on his, but that dang mustache is drawing her attention.

“Yes ma’am, I was,” says the stallion; then he chuckles uneasily and brushes his mustache. “You... um... you like my mustache?”

“Huh? Oh! Mah apologies, I um I-I was just um- Hi! What’s yer name?”

The stallion reels back a bit, eyes wide, from her outburst. Applejack feels her cheeks flare when she realizes how silly she sounded and quickly apologizes for her “rude behavior”.

“Uh, the name is Breeze, Ms. Jack. Shamrock Breeze,” he says with a kind, yet awkward smile; Applejack also notices that Shamrock has a slight Irish accent.

“Please, just call me ‘Applejack’,” says Applejack, still embarrassed about her outburst. “Or if ya want t’ go into formalities, ya can call me ‘Ms. Apple’ and I can call ya ‘Mr. Breeze’.”

Shamrock smiles and Applejack can’t help but smile back. Something about his smile is just... It’s has got to be the most welcoming smile she’s ever seen! Big Mac has a bored smile; Granny Smith’s is creepy; Applebloom’s is cute, but very in-your-face; Pinkie Pie’s smile is borderlining psychotic; Twilight’s is either smug, awkward, or needy; Rainbow Dash has a boastful smile; Fluttershy’s smile is-

“You okay there, Ms. Apple?”

Applejack blinks and looks at Shamrock, specifically his blessed -and nervous- smile. As she stares she notices how white his teeth are; they are really ridiculously white. Like freshly polished pearl white.

“You’re kinda staring again,” he says while motioning towards her eyes with a subtle hoof flick.

“How old are ya?” asks Applejack stupidly, silently praying that he’d be in her age group. Although, from the looks of it, he wouldn’t be. His years of hard labor are obvious by the way some lines of his coat are lighter than the rest, his solid muscles cramped in his average height, and the bags under his eyes from minimal sleep. And there’s also his mustache. All these traits make Applejack believe he’s at least middle aged.

“Didja hear what I said?” asks Shamrock.

“...Kinda,” says Applejack in a brain dead sort of tone.

Shamrock arches an eyebrow. “What did I say?”

Applejack can feel the blood returning to her cheeks to betray her into making her out to be a fool again.

“You were staring at my mustache again, weren’t you?” teases Shamrock; his facial expressions matching his tone perfectly with the half lidded eyes and teasing smile.

“Uh... kinda?” says Applejack nervously.

“Hmm, I see.” Shamrock leans back and rubs his mustache, smiling. “I’m twenty four.”

Applejack’s eyes dilate and she looks at him in disbelief; dropped jaw included. Shamrock, on the other hand, smiles proudly at his achievement of catching the Element of Honesty off guard.

“There’s no way yer twenty four,” says Applejack skeptically; as much as she wants to believe him, she is under the impression that this one of those it’s-too-good-to-be-true scenarios.

“Yep,” replies Shamrock, grinning from ear to ear, “just turned twenty four a month ago. The birthday party was a nice, there were lotsa goodies and presents, including a train ticket to Ponyville.”

“When did ya arrive in Ponyville? Just wondering n’ all.”

“Today.”

Applejack snickers. “And yer first thought was t’ come t’ this speed dating place?”

Shamrock taps his chin and glances at the ceiling as if he’s in deep thought; while he’s distracted with his thinking, Applejack finds herself staring at him again. After a couple of seconds of thinking, he looks at Applejack and shrugs.

“Well technically it was Braeburn’s idea for me to go here first. But I can’t say it wasn’t on the list of things to do here, such as getting a job, finding a place... to... live... Applejack?”

Applejack’s eyes lock on his magnificent, always welcoming, blue eyes again.

“Hmm?” she says in a distant, dreamy tone.

When Shamrock smiles at her, she has to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling back or fidgeting in her seat. Not that she doesn’t want to smile at the handsome stallion, but she’s really dumbfounded at what to do right now. On the one hand she never wanted to be here, she just wanted to get her chores done and catch up on some much needed sleep. On the other hand, she just can’t stop staring at Shamrock! It’s like he has her under a spell of some sort. But frankly, he’s so good looking she can care less if that was true.

Shamrock snickers. “You just like staring at me, don’tcha?” Then he rests his head on his hoof as his playful smile makes a comeback. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me what kinda job I was-”

“I’d give ya a job!” blurts Applejack stupidly, then she eeps and covers her mouth with her hoof. The way her whole face turns red and her body sulks in shame suggests that she was not talking about farm work when she said “job”. The sudden outburst also catches the bluish stallion off guard. “I mean I’d pay ya to do me -Do work for me and-and-”

The whole time she’s tripping over herself, her cheeks and ears burn from the horrible embarrassing and shameful feelings she hasn’t had since... never! This just adds to her conviction that today sucks; but Shamrock is a plus, even though it’s not enough to make up for the rest of the day, in her opinion. And speaking of Shamrock, he’s smirking and keeping his head casually rested on his hoof, enjoying every second of the show.

“Feel free to stop digging your hole anytime now, Applejack,” says Shamrock, now grinning from ear to ear. It’s almost cruel how much amusement he’s getting from poor Applejack’s embarrassment.

Applejack groans and lies her head on the table with both of her hooves covering her head, hoping that the cool surface will cool down her raging blush. “Yeah, I think I’ll go do that now.”

Then, as if Celestia herself has seen that Applejack has suffered enough, the all too familiar DING! returns and it is music to Applejack’s ears. Shamrock also looks relieved that the odd ordeal to be over.

Both ponies look up at the ceiling and a mare over the intercom says: “That’s a wrap! Group One, please leave the vicinity immediately for Group Two.”

“Thank Celestia,” sighs Applejack.

“Well, that was-”

Applejack jumps out of her seat and hightails it out the door before Shamrock can finish. She runs outside and spots Rarity sitting patiently on a bench that is under a tree, studying the stetson as if it was a fashion anomaly.

“Gimme that!” snarls Applejack viciously.

She yanks the hat away from Rarity with her mouth, quickly puts it on her head and runs down the road. Rarity runs after Applejack, calling her and trying to get her to slow down so they can talk, and the farmer snakes through the crowd of ponies and the carts they’re dragging, thus making the residents give her curious looks. And right as Applejack thinks she’s safe, she rounds a corner and runs straight into a bar. Darkness ensues.

*

And now it’s bright and sunny!

The clouds are partial, giving a great view of the warm, blue sky and the pleasant sun that provides the warmth and joy that so many ponies rely on. And who just happens to be running through the lush field on this perfect day? Why, Applejack and Shamrock of course!

Applejack and Shamrock laugh and giggle as they prance around each other through clouds of floating, colorful flower petals that have been kicked up by the gentle breeze. They dance around each other in perfect harmony and when Applejack trips like an idiot she rolls head over tail and lands perfectly in a seat at a malt shop with a giant chocolate milkshake in front of her.

Her mouth waters and she’s about to dive in, but another thick straw is placed next to hers and Shamrock slides next to her, grinning. They both rub their noses together, giggling like school yard fillies and then dive right in. They exchange quick, competitive, yet playful, glances as the shake disappears into their stomachs. When the thick, and amazingly delicious, shake is almost gone, Shamrock pulls away and sits in front of Applejack with a necklace in his hoof.

“Will you marry me, my dear Applejack?” asks Shamrock in the smoothest, most romantic voice she has ever heard. Even a small gust of wind blows through his mane and when he smiles the sun shines off of his teeth to further enforce how his body was sculpted by alicorns.

“Yes!” squeals Applejack, dancing in her seat and clapping her hooves together in excitement.

Shamrock smiles and next thing she knows, both of them are at a wedding pew, looking sharp in a tuxedo and beautiful in a wedding dress with wedding bells ringing and rice falling.

“You may now kiss the bride,” says the mare leading the service.

Applejack doesn’t hesitate to wrap her hooves around the love of her life and press her lips against his and keeps him locked in for a nice, lengthy, tongue kiss. Strangely he seems to be resisting, but there’s no way that Shamrock could be rejecting her on the wedding day! No, it’s not possible!

*

“BLEH! What the buck!” cries Rainbow Dash, spitting and wiping her mouth of Applejack’s lovely, apple-flavored spit. Applejack immediately opens her eyes and cringes as she feels the full force of the head injury on top of the wrath of Rainbow Dash’s verbal lashing. “Dang it, AJ! Now everypony is going to think we’re lesbians!” Then she glares at Rarity. “This is the last time I’m doing mouth to mouth for you! C’mon Soarin!”

Soarin doesn’t move, though; he has a raging blush, his wings are open and his jaw is to the ground. There is also a small crowd of ponies that are walking away and casually whistling to, or conversing with, themselves. Rainbow Dash has to tug on Soarin’s tail to snap him out of it, and when the two fly away Rarity snickers and nudges Shamrock.

“I told you she’d do it,” says Rarity with a devilish grin.

“She didn’t look too happy when Applejack made out with her, though,” says Shamrock with a small frown. Then he smiles down at the subject, she’s still rubbing her head and mumbling profanity to herself. “Did you miss me?”

“Wow, that was a cooky dream,” mumbles Applejack while rubbing her noggin. Then she looks up at Shamrock, smiles, and nervously waves and says: “Hi.”

Then she faints.

Later That Night...

Applejack groans and slowly opens her eyes. The first time she barely opens them halfway and the world is blurry; she knows its night out though since everything is dim. Second time is almost there and slightly less blurry; now she can hear crickets and branches creaking. And finally, after attempt number three, she manages to keep her eyes open and see the world clearly. She knows she’s back in her room because of the mysterious stain on her ceiling and she can see her old nightstand out of the corner of her eye. However, she knows something’s off, she can feel it, and it is comfortable.

When she sits up and pulls the blanket back she sees that she’s been lying on a brand new mattress made of top notch material and smelling fresher than morning dew. Whoever made the mattress must be a master at making mattresses. Applejack snickers at the idea of having a mattress as a cutie mark before getting out of her new bed to further inspect the wonderful provider of sleeping comfort. However, two things catch her eyes: an urn and her jar of sugarcubes, both having notes attached to them and resting on her nightstand.

Applejack stares at them, not knowing what to think about such an odd scene, but she does push the what-the-hay thoughts aside to inspect the two items. She goes for the sugarcubes first. She carefully twists the lid odd and sniffs them. They are definitely hers. Then she pours out four of the little cubes and eats them. As she chews on them she carefully analyzes the tastes and comes to the conclusion that they are in no way poisoned. When she eats a couple more of her sugarcubes she reads the note attached to her jar.

Dear Applejack,

Sorry about bringing those sugarcubes in your room, but I would hate for something as tasty as them to rot away in the barn. Don’t worry I didn’t tell Shamrock about your obsession with them, although he was curious about them so when you go on your first official date be sure to explain it to him so that way the poor boy isn’t lost. Also, I already set up a date for you two, and don’t say you won’t go because I know what I saw and if you leave him alone I will personally force you to wear my most frufru dress that I have at my disposal for a week. Date is this Friday at eight past noon at the Le Café Fromage, be there.

Sincerely,

Rarity

XOXO

P.S.

You probably want to keep an eye on Big MacIntosh; I don’t think he likes Shamrock.

Applejack nearly faints from the news. Her... Shamrock... expensive fancy speak place. It’s all too good to be true! The thoughts send shivers of joy all over her and she bites her lip to contain her happy squeal, but her legs move on their own accord. She jumps up and down giggling to herself, but quickly stops and looks around nervously to make sure no one is watching or coming to see what she’s up to. She wouldn’t want her reputation to be tarnished after all. Thankfully all she hears are crickets and the soft wind blowing through the leaves, though.

Applejack sighs with relief and plops herself on the floor, embarrassed by her silly antics. However, when she sits down she accidently hits the nightstand and the urn wobbles, falls to the ground, and spills its ashy guts all over the hardwood floor. Applejack gasps and slides on her stomach and puts her hooves over her head and stares in disbelief at the mess. As Applejack stares at the ashy blob on her floor she can’t help but wonder whose ashes they belonged to. Did Granny finally croak and they burned her corpse before she woke up? Was Winnona accidently incinerated? Did Bloomberg get struck lightning and burn to the ground?

The possibilities are endless!

Applejack sniffles and tries to scoop up the ashes, but her hooves can’t do it. All they do is rub them around and grind them in her coat and floor. Right as she’s about to burst into tears she notices the letter attached to the urn had landed next to her. Applejack sits up, grabs the note and reluctantly opens it. Not even two seconds later she throws it down to the ground and screams: “NOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The note falls out of her grip and gracefully lands on top of the burnt remains of whoever was in the urn, upright for all to see.

P. P.S.

I also burned Springy; he was way past overdue.

The End