Bluegrassby Rainbooms IncChaptersChapter I: “Honestly, this party's killing me”Chapter II: "Houseparty at the end of the universe"Chapter III: "Slug salt and spit it out"Chapter I: “Honestly, this party's killing me”Applejack took another swig of her punch, grimacing as the sugary liquid washed over her teeth. It was one Pinkie's special recipes, whipped up specially for this party. She could feel her molars rotting. Still, as unappealing as the drinks were, they beat paying attention to what was actually going on in Sugarcube Corner. At first glance, it was no different from any of the other parties Pinkie threw as a matter of course. There were ponies gathered around, talking, laughing, and sampling sweets. There was music playing, and Pinkie was moving through the crowd, as endlessly cheerful as always, chatting with her guests and making sure everypony was having fun. But there was something different about this party, and it set Applejack's teeth on edge. There was a tension in the air, an electricity that had never been there before. Ponies were not standing as they usually did: instead, they turned and twisted in place, following the progress of Pinkie through the room with curious gaze. They only turned away to murmur to one another, loud enough that the orange earth pony couldn't help but overhear. “Is that...?” “It is. She introduced her to me.” “It can't be. What on earth would she--” “Who else could it be?” Applejack gritted her teeth. It wasn't that she minded somepony being the center of attention—the spotlight was for ponies like Rainbow Dash and Rarity, not her. But by Celestia, she resented it being taken by a pony like the one currently being lead around on the introduction circuit by Pinkie. The pony in question was a unicorn, and looked a bit like Rarity might if she passed out on Rainbow Dash's couch when the pegasus was in a playful mood. The white coat was the same, but her mane was a garish mismatch of electric blue and metallic purple, cut into a style that Applejack hazily identified as “punk:” ragged and uneven in a very carefully styled way. According to Rainbow Dash—who was, Applejack noted with disgust, trailing after the strange unicorn like a lost lamb—she was some kind of glorified DJ, one who had played to sold-out crowds across Equestria. The earth pony didn't know if that was true, or if Rainbow's enthusiasm had run away with her. She didn't care. What she did know—what she could tell just by watching the strange unicorn, and by watching how everypony else reacted to her—was that this was a pony used to celebrity. It was in her walk (more of a strut, really) which took attention for granted, as if it was unthinkable that a single gaze would be turned away from her. It was in her smile, tight and rehearsed, bestowed with the air of a cherished favor on the ponies she was introduced to. And Applejack was sure it was in her eyes, hidden behind the sunglasses she wore even indoors. The earth pony scowled at nothing as she took another sip of her punch. Unlike Rarity, she had never seen anything to be ashamed of in Ponyville. She was proud of the town: it was her home, where she had grown up, a place intimately connected to her family and their history. And she could feel this newcomer, this interloper, sneering at it all behind her glasses, behind that painted-on smile. It wasn't good enough for her, this unicorn with her carefully-mussed mane and painted-on smile. Applejack was honest by nature, but that didn't mean that she couldn't spot a liar, and every move the unicorn made screamed falsehood. Applejack seethed at the insult inherit in that, in the simple callousness that everypony else seemed to be mistaking for friendliness. She wanted to jump on the table, kick the punchbowl to the floor, and scream. Why couldn't they see? See that this unicorn didn't give one fig for them or their lives, that she was playing just as she must have played every audience she had ever performed in front of. Why couldn't they see that— “Uh, you okay, AJ?” Applejack blinked. Pinkie was standing in front of her, looking a little worried. “You feeling okay? Because, like, I could hear your teeth grinding and if you keep that up you won't have any teeth, and then how will you be able to eat my cupcakes? Not to mention, you know, all the other stuff you need teeth for.” Applejack opened her mouth to say she was fine, realized that it would be a lie, albeit a small one, and settled for taking another swig of punch while waving a dismissive hoof. “That's right, drink up!” the candy-colored earth pony said encouragingly. “I've got lots!” “Uh, Pinkie?” That was Rainbow Dash, fluttering impatiently around head-height a few paces behind Pinkie. “Aren't you getting a little sidetracked?” “Oh, right!” Pinkie stepped to the side. “AJ, I'd like to meet Ponyville's newest resident, Vinyl Scratch!” And there she was, just behind Pinkie, sporting the same smile that Applejack had been quietly loathing for half-hour. “Applejack,” said Applejack shortly, thrusting a hoof forward. She couldn't bring herself to say it was a pleasure. But the pale unicorn's smile never faltered. If anything, it widened fractionally as she shook the proffered hoof. “You own Sweet Apple Acres, don't you? I've heard your family makes some of the best cider in lowland Equestria.” “All of Equestria,” AJ corrected instantly. “Better than anythin' from Manehatten to Las Pegasus.” Overhead, Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes, appalled that anypony would want to argue about cider with Vinyl freakin' Scratch. Granted, the pegasus loved her cider as much as the next pony, but there was a time and place. But below, Vinyl Scratch was still smiling. “Well then, I regret never having the chance to sample some before now. Perhaps you think about selling some of your stock in Canterlot. After all, if it really is the best in Equestria, I can only imagine the court would love to lay in a supply.” “Ah know my own business, thank you” said Applejack with a scowl. “And ah know how to run my own farm.” Who the hay did this tourist think she was, offering advice like it was her good deed for the week, doubting Applejack's word? And she was a tourist, however much Pinkie called her a resident. She might have a house in town—Applejack assumed, she hadn't exactly been keen on the details when Pinkie invited her to this welcoming party—but what did that prove? If she was half of big a deal as Rainbow Dash seemed to think she was, she was rich enough to buy a house in every city in the whole country. As soon as she got bored, or fulfilled whatever court order had gotten her out to Ponyville, she'd be gone. As Pinkie lead the unicorn away to continue her introductions, Applejack took comfort in that fact. With any luck, she wouldn't have to lay eyes on the unicorn apart from the occasional market day. If she was lucky, not even then. Chapter II: "Houseparty at the end of the universe"“I remember that concert you did in Cloudsdale, a few years ago, and the stallion who led the band that opened for you was old, like, when-dinosaurs-ruled-Equestria ancient, and I thought it was gonna be a nightmare. Old guy could really rock, though. I think he was almost as loud as you were!” “Yeah, Winging It will surprise you like that.” Vinyl smiled at the rainbow-maned pegasus that had been bobbing beside her for most of the party. She didn't remember that particular show (which was hardly surprising), but she had toured with Headbang and the rest more than once, and everyone seemed to get the same first impression of the elderly pegasus. “That's what they were called! It was right on the tip of my tongue. Hey, wasn't that the same tour that you burned down that hotel in Chicacolt?” “I did not burn down anything in Chicacolt,” Vinyl said with mock indignation. “There was a small misunderstanding involving exactly how many flaming cocktails could be served at once. That's all.” The pegasus's magenta eyes went wide. “So the story about you setting the entire bar on fire with just your breath is true?” Vinyl groaned as the pegasus laughed, throwing her head back for a good, long guffaw. It was an angle that did her proud, Vinyl had to admit. Her rippling, multi-colored mane was on display, and it bounced and danced as she chortled. The way her neck was extended put her lean muscles on display as well, just visibly defined beneath her sky-blue coat. Her legs and back were the same way, Vinyl noticed: narrow but taut, like a coiled spring. Like even the slightest movement could send her rocketing off in some unguessed direction. Vinyl wondered what it would take to get taken along for the ride. She felt her stomach lurch at that thought, and looked away quickly, scanning the party for somewhere safe to stare instead. Her gaze fell on the earth pony from earlier, still standing sullenly in a corner. She was drinking her punch like she had a grudge against it, slugging it down fast and refilling her cup mechanically. And, the unicorn noted, she was glaring at her, with a look of unadulterated loathing. Behind her sunglasses, Vinyl blinked. It had been a long time since she had been given the evil eye so enthusiastically. The pegasus laughter faded into the background as Vinyl tried, fruitlessly, to remember what she might have done to so offend the orange mare. She had barely even been to Ponyville before--that was the whole point. So what could have earned her so much dislike? For a moment, the unicorn felt a chill, deep in her gut—surely, the earth pony couldn't have been one of those. Her eyes safely hidden, Vinyl risked another quick glance. No, she decided with a sigh of relief, she couldn't have. Her gig in Ponyville had been a different point of her life—there was no chance that the scowling farmer's grievance could be the same one that had brought her here in the first place. Of course, that didn't mean that she couldn't have met the earth pony in some other town, at some other time... Before that thought could quite ruin Vinyl's evening, the endlessly energetic mare who was hosting the party—Pinkie, Vinyl remembered with great satisfaction—was at her side again. "Hey Rainbow!" she chirped. "You're not giving Vi here a hard time, are ya?" Rainbow, Vinyl repeated mentally. That was the pegasus's name; of course it was. How could it be anything else? "Nah, just having a little fun." Rainbow grinned at Vinyl, who returned the expression. "Finding out what it's like to be an honest-to-Celestia rockstar, you know?" "Well, no, I don't think so." Pinkie frowned. The expression darted across her face like a frightened rabbit, as if unsure of what it was doing there. "I mean, I might, if I talked to Vinyl about it, or if I'd been listening while you did it, but I had to go refill the punch, because Applejack is really putting it away, and if it runs out while there's still chips left, then everypony could get really thirsty, and the last time that happened we had to use the rain barrel, but you haven't let it rain here in more than a week, so if there's any water left at all I bet it would be really gross and--" "Right, Pinkie, of course." Rainbow interrupted. She shot Vinyl an apologetic look before continuing. "And I'm sure AJ appreciates how thoughtful you are." The pegasus glanced away from the two mares before her. "Though it sure doesn't show." Vinyl followed Rainbow's gaze to the mare glowering in the corner. Ah. That was Applejack, then. Vinyl turned away again, adjusting her shades a trifle self-consciously, but the pegasus continued to stare. "I can't figure out what her problem is. She almost bit Vinyl’s head off when you introduced the two of them, and all she did was compliment her cider.” "It doesn't bother me, really." Vinyl said quickly. "So she takes pride in her work and doesn't like to be told how to do it by strangers. I can't imagine I'd like her telling me I was spinning records all wrong, either." "Yeah, 'cause you spin 'em exactly right." Rainbow snorted. "But AJ's... well, AJ. She might not listen to your stuff, but she's looking at you like just burned her barn down. That just doesn't happen." "Do you think it's the punch?" Pinkie sounded worried, shifting from hoof to hoof. "Ooo! I could get another flavor! And maybe add some of that syrup I found in that shop in Canterlot, the one that came with a liability form and ownership license!" As she spoke, she began bouncing from hoof to hoof enthusiastically, picking up a surprising amount of speed over the course of a few seconds. "I'm sure the punch is fine," Vinyl said quickly, before Pinkie could vibrate herself to pieces. To prove her point she snatched a cup from the sideboard with her magic and brought it quickly across the room and to her mouth. Applejack, she noticed, spared several seconds of glare for the cup as it bobbed past her muzzle. "Yeah, Pinkie, the punch is great" Rainbow agreed. "So what's eating AJ?" Vinyl continued to take frequent sips of the punch—with, in truth, she found entirely lacking in the rum department--as the two mares debated what could have gotten into their friend. She sighed. It was an uncomfortable kind of conversation to listen to, especially because it was all caused by one pony's lukewarm--or, okay, positively frigid--reaction to meeting her. But disliking Vinyl Scratch wasn't a crime, whatever her agent said to sell tickets. "Look," she said when her cup had run out of ways to distract her, "maybe she's just having a bad day. Maybe she's worried about something, maybe she just doesn't like my face or my hairstyle. Who cares? It's a party—let's party. Where's the stereo, Pinkie?" Rainbow's face lit up. "You got something planned?" Vinyl shot her an easy grin. "Not today. Right now, I just wanna dance." ~*~*~*~ Much later, when the last of the guests were gone and the party was well and truly over, Vinyl was patrolling Sugarcube Corner with Pinkie, corralling abandoned cups and plates, returning displaced furniture to its rightful place in the universe, and generally getting a feel for the side of parties that she hadn't been on for years. "I 'preciate the help, Vi" Pinkie mumbled as she trotted past, a stack of plates nearly as tall as she was balanced precariously on her nose. Vinyl watched the teetering tower, mesmerized, until with a sound very much like a sneeze the pink earth pony deposited her burden in the sink. "But I've cleaned up after a lot of parties with no one to help but Gummy, and he mostly just sits and licks crumbs off of stuff." Vinyl chuckled. "I don't mind. Besides, I figure it’s the least I could do in return for you letting me crash here tonight. Sorry about that, by the way—I didn't really plan very well." Or at all... "Hey, no problem! I mean, it’s not your fault Ponyville doesn't have a hotel. But a bakery's even better! And a lot better than the library. That's where the last unicorn that came here had to stay!" Pinkie, for some reason, began to giggle at that point, and Vinyl was able ferret out two forks and a saucer that had inexplicably ended up behind a couch before she finished. "Uh, that reminds me, actually. Do you know where in Ponyville I could get a job?" "We-e-e-e-e-ell..." Pinkie tapped a hoof on her chin. "Ponyville already has a librarian, a mayor, a tailor, a baker, a candlestick maker..." She shrugged. "Rarity might be looking for a new model in time for fall, and Twilight's said something about finding a unicorn test subject that won't run away..." She shrugged. "I guess I don't really know. I don't pay too much attention to jobs outside of Sugarcube Corner." She spotted a pastry sitting alone and lost on a platter, and popped it into her mouth. "'Cause, I mean, why would I want to work anywhere else?" Vinyl smiled. "I can't think of a reason." She paused. "Hey, do you know if any of the farmers around here hire extra hooves?" Pinkie scratched her head. "Well... the Apples do, sometimes, but Sweet Apple Acres is just about the biggest farm around here. Most ponies just keep gardens." "The Apple Family?" Vinyl blinked. "Would that include...?" "Applejack? Oh, yeah!" Pinkie brightened for an instant, then seemed to droop. "Oh, yeah. Do you think that could be a problem?" Vinyl shrugged. "No way to know until I ask." She returned to cleaning, her mind made up. Next morning, she would go down to Sweet Apple Acres and ask the mare with the very fine cider and the very angry eyes for work. As she worked, Vinyl found herself whistling. She was rather looking forward to it. Chapter III: "Slug salt and spit it out"Applejack set her hooves carefully, planting them in the soft earth. There wasn't an art to this, not quite. Art was what Rarity did. It wasn't quite a science, either. Science was what Twilight did. No, this was a craft. There was craft in knowing each tree, from the depth of its roots to the strength of its limbs to the ripeness of its fruit. There was craft in knowing exactly how hard and fast to strike the trunk, to shake free only the fruit ready to fall. It was Applejack's craft, and she knew it well. She kicked out at the tree, savoring the silence of the one frozen moment, before her hooves connected and she felt the shock run up her legs. Grinning, she cocked her head, listening for the gentle thud of falling apples. “AJ! There's somepony here to see you!” Applejack sighed as her sister's voice cut through the morning stillness. As she shouldered the newly filled basket onto her back, she wondered what sort of visitor was important enough to demand her attention, but not familiar enough to simply be directed up the hills to meet her. Her suspense didn't last long: her visitor was waiting at the gate to Sweet Apple Acres, wearing a familiar set of round sunglasses and an irritating smile. Applejack slowed her pace as she approached, not bothering to hide her glare at the unicorn who watched her with that same carefully-disguised sneer. Dropping the basket from her back unceremoniously, Applejack nudged it towards her sister. “Applebloom, take these to Granny Smith.” When Applebloom remained, looking in confusion from her sister's scowling face to the visitor's smiling one, Applejack sighed. “Run along now, little filly.” As Applebloom (reluctantly) departed, Applejack turned towards Vinyl Scratch, unconsciously placing herself between the sister and the unicorn she was thinking of as an intruder. “What do you want?” If Vinyl Scratch was offended at her flat and unfriendly tone, it didn't show. “I'm looking for a job. You wouldn't happen to be looking for a farmhoof would you?” Applejack stared at the pale unicorn. “A job? Why in tarnation would you need a job?” Vinyl Scratch shrugged. “Well, you know. I'm new in town, and I have to keep myself fed somehow.” Now thoroughly certain she was the subject of some kind of joke, Applejack opened her mouth, prepared to shout the DJ off of her property. However, she paused, as a small, uncharitable little thought made itself heard. She's just doing this to get to you. She needs money like you need a spoiled unicorn getting in the way around here. So why not call her bluff? Don't just offer a job, offer her a hard, dirty and unpleasant one. Just to turn the tables. Just to watch her squirm. “Well,” she said thoughtfully, “there's the always the western hill. It's part of the farm, technic'ly, but it's too full of rocks too plant on. Ah don't suppose you'd be interested in clearin' some of them boulders out?” She smirked, eager to hear what sort of excuse the unicorn would scramble to find. “Sure. What's the pay?” Applejack blinked. “What?” “I said, the job sounds good. What's the pay?” Vinyl repeated patiently. “Uh...” Applejack rummaged through her memories, trying to remember what Big Macintosh had offered the farmhooves when she was down with the flu one harvest season. “Eight bits a day.” Vinyl Scratch nodded thoughtfully. “Benefits?” “Not'nless you count the right to sleep in the barn.” “I'll take it.” The unicorn thrust a hoof towards Applejack. The earth pony stared at the extended hoof. “You sure you want this kinda work?” “Why not?” Vinyl Scratch shrugged. “It's been a while since I got to stretch my muscles—or my magic.” “Your funeral.” Applejack muttered to herself as she shook the unicorn's hoof. As she turned away, she called over her shoulder, “West hill's this way.” As the unicorn followed her through the gate and across the hills of Sweet Apple Acres, Applejack wondered just what she had agreed to. -x- The hill that Applejack lead Vinyl Scratch too was much like the rest of the farm: low and with a gentle slope, covered in thick grass that was kept short by the regular attention of the family's cows and sheep. But where the other hills were covered in neat rows of apple trees, the western-most hill held only piles and outcroppings of grey stone. The largest of the rocks stood about as tall as a pony, at least above ground, but they were few and far between. Most were smaller, half-buried, and Applejack knew from experience how difficult they could be to prise from the earth. “Well, here y'are.” Applejack said, waving a hoof to take in the hilltop. “Looks like I have my work cut out for me,” Vinyl Scratch observed. She gave the nearest stone an experimental prod with a hoof. “This might take me more than a day or two.” The earth pony shrugged as the possibility that the DJ would back down when faced with what exactly she had signed on for quietly slipped away. “That's fine, ah guess. Just so long as the work gets done. Come see me at the end of the day for your pay.” She hesitated, then said “an' if you come down to the farmhouse around noon, I'll make sure Granny has lunch waitin' for you.” Vinyl Scratch nodded absently. “That'd be great. Thanks, boss.” Applejack opened her mouth to tell the unicorn that her name would be fine, but settled for turning away, shaking her head. She might not like Vinyl Scratch, but the mare was her employee—apparently—and there was no need to go looking for an argument. The earth pony trotted away, leaving the newest farmhoof alone on the hill, and headed for the orchard. The business of hiring Vinyl Scratch had set her behind on her work for the day, and she needed to catch up—especially considering she'd need to pay the unicorn's wages as well. As she crested the first hill, however, she was brought up short by a familiar stallion waiting for her. “Hey, Big Mac. You lookin' for me?” “Yup. Applebloom said you came up here with some strange pony.” Applejack's brother nodded across at the rocky hill, where a head-sized boulder was rising into the air, wrapped in a white aura. “That her?” “Yeah. She came lookin' for a job. Ah told her she could clear the rocks off the hill for eight bits a day.” Big Macintosh nodded thoughtfully. “We could move the saplings we got comin' in down south out there. Good thinkin'.” Applejack nodded distractedly as she and her brother set off down the hill. “But, just who is she?” The orange earth pony sighed. “Her name's Vinyl Scratch. Accordin' to Rainbow, she's some kinda rock star.” Macintosh blinked. “Then what's she doin' workin' for us?” “Honestly, Mac? I got no idea.” Whatever her reasons for working on the Apple family's farm, Applejack couldn't accuse Vinyl Scratch of not taking her job seriously. By the time the unicorn came down from the hills for lunch, her mane was drooping and matted with sweat. But she was still smiling, the tight little grin that made Applejack's skin crawl. There was something so false, so dishonest about the expression that the earth pony could barely stand looking at it. If Vinyl Scratch picked up on her hostility, though, it didn't show: the only time it dropped off the unicorn's face was when she was wolfing down the sandwich that Granny Smith had set out for her. Then, with a “thanks” mumbled around the last mouthful, she trotted off west to resume her work. And that was it, really. For most of the day, Applejack could almost forget that the unicorn was working on the farm. She was reminded, however, in the late afternoon, when a sky-blue pegasus dropped from on high. “Alright, AJ, what the hay did you do?” The earth pony rolled her eyes. “Nice to see you too, Rainbow.” “Was it blackmail? Did she lose some kind of bet?” Rainbow Dash continued, ignoring Applejack's greeting. She gasped. “It was drugs, wasn't it? You poisoned her at Pinkie's party, and this is the only way you'll give her the antidote! Applejack, how could you?!” The farmer frowned. “Just what in the world are you talkin' about, sugarcube? I ain't done nothing to nopony.” “Oh, yeah? Then why is Vinyl Scratch—as in, Vinyl Scratch, the most awesome musician in all of Equestria—breaking rocks on your farm?” Applejack sighed. For all her speed, Rainbow Dash had yet to learn to look before she leapt. “She's on my farm 'cuz she asked for a job, sugarcube. Nothin' more to it than that.” The pegasus hesitated. On the one hoof, the idea that Vinyl Scratch would look for a menial job was crazy. On the other, that's what Applejack said had happened, and the earth pony could no more tell a barefaced lie than she could fly. So Rainbow Dash settled for asking “Why?” “Y'know, you could ask her yourself,” Applejack pointed out, annoyed at hearing the same question she had asked herself all morning. “Uh...” Rainbow Dash looked sheepish. “I did. I saw her working when I flew over and dropped down to ask what she was doing.” “And she said...?” “Working for you. And when I asked why, she just said it was private.” Applejack tapped an impatient hoof. “Then why'd you think I would know?” The pegasus shrugged. “I dunno. I figured it had something to do with why she chose your farm. I mean, if she just needed a quick bit, she could offer to endorse Rarity's dresses. It'd pay a lot better than busting rocks.” “She's movin' rocks, not bustin' em. She's a farmhoof, not a miner.” “She's a DJ. So what's she doing out here?” Applejack just shook her head, turning back to the tree she was trimming of dead branches. She wished ponies would stop asking her that question. She wished she could stop asking it herself. -x- But when Celestia's sun was low in the sky, and the unicorn made her way down from the hills, Applejack resisted the urge to ask the question of the one pony who could answer it. Vinyl Scratch's reasons were her own, and Applejack wouldn't press her to reveal them—no matter how curious she felt. But as she accepted the small pouch containing her wages, it was the unicorn who spoke. “I hope your friend didn't give you too much trouble. She seemed pretty agitated when she left.” “Rainbow Dash can get riled up, but she's got a good heart,” Applejack replied. “And meetin' your idols can get anypony excited.” “Er, yeah. About that...” Vinyl Scratch began, but Applejack was too busy staring to listen to the rest of her sentence. For the first time, the unicorn had lost the smile that got under her skin so effectively, and the lack of it seemed to change her whole face. Her lips lost their sneer; her round glasses became playful, rather than unfriendly; and on the whole her face seemed more real, less like a mask. Applejack slowly became aware of an uncomfortable silence where her reply should have been. Blushing slightly, she said “Sorry, ah didn't quite catch that.” Vinyl gave her an odd look. Applejack found that she didn't mind—it was sincere confusion, after all. “I asked if you could not mention that I was working here. I mean... I'm kinda well known, and if many ponies like your pegasus friend stop by, it'll get in the way of the farm work.” “Her name's Rainbow Dash,” Applejack responded automatically, before she pulled herself together. “But sure. Ah'll make sure nopony bothers you.” “Great, thanks!” Vinyl Scratch grinned at her. It was like a door slamming shut. All at once, the unicorn's defenses were back up, her smile back in place, her glasses once more like armor. But as the unicorn disappeared down the road to town, Applejack felt oddly cheerful. There was something genuine in Vinyl Scratch, even if the disc jockey kept it hidden most of the time. And that, the earth pony decided, did something that neither celebrity nor Rainbow's bluster had accomplished before: it made her worthwhile.
Chapter I: “Honestly, this party's killing me”Applejack took another swig of her punch, grimacing as the sugary liquid washed over her teeth. It was one Pinkie's special recipes, whipped up specially for this party. She could feel her molars rotting. Still, as unappealing as the drinks were, they beat paying attention to what was actually going on in Sugarcube Corner. At first glance, it was no different from any of the other parties Pinkie threw as a matter of course. There were ponies gathered around, talking, laughing, and sampling sweets. There was music playing, and Pinkie was moving through the crowd, as endlessly cheerful as always, chatting with her guests and making sure everypony was having fun. But there was something different about this party, and it set Applejack's teeth on edge. There was a tension in the air, an electricity that had never been there before. Ponies were not standing as they usually did: instead, they turned and twisted in place, following the progress of Pinkie through the room with curious gaze. They only turned away to murmur to one another, loud enough that the orange earth pony couldn't help but overhear. “Is that...?” “It is. She introduced her to me.” “It can't be. What on earth would she--” “Who else could it be?” Applejack gritted her teeth. It wasn't that she minded somepony being the center of attention—the spotlight was for ponies like Rainbow Dash and Rarity, not her. But by Celestia, she resented it being taken by a pony like the one currently being lead around on the introduction circuit by Pinkie. The pony in question was a unicorn, and looked a bit like Rarity might if she passed out on Rainbow Dash's couch when the pegasus was in a playful mood. The white coat was the same, but her mane was a garish mismatch of electric blue and metallic purple, cut into a style that Applejack hazily identified as “punk:” ragged and uneven in a very carefully styled way. According to Rainbow Dash—who was, Applejack noted with disgust, trailing after the strange unicorn like a lost lamb—she was some kind of glorified DJ, one who had played to sold-out crowds across Equestria. The earth pony didn't know if that was true, or if Rainbow's enthusiasm had run away with her. She didn't care. What she did know—what she could tell just by watching the strange unicorn, and by watching how everypony else reacted to her—was that this was a pony used to celebrity. It was in her walk (more of a strut, really) which took attention for granted, as if it was unthinkable that a single gaze would be turned away from her. It was in her smile, tight and rehearsed, bestowed with the air of a cherished favor on the ponies she was introduced to. And Applejack was sure it was in her eyes, hidden behind the sunglasses she wore even indoors. The earth pony scowled at nothing as she took another sip of her punch. Unlike Rarity, she had never seen anything to be ashamed of in Ponyville. She was proud of the town: it was her home, where she had grown up, a place intimately connected to her family and their history. And she could feel this newcomer, this interloper, sneering at it all behind her glasses, behind that painted-on smile. It wasn't good enough for her, this unicorn with her carefully-mussed mane and painted-on smile. Applejack was honest by nature, but that didn't mean that she couldn't spot a liar, and every move the unicorn made screamed falsehood. Applejack seethed at the insult inherit in that, in the simple callousness that everypony else seemed to be mistaking for friendliness. She wanted to jump on the table, kick the punchbowl to the floor, and scream. Why couldn't they see? See that this unicorn didn't give one fig for them or their lives, that she was playing just as she must have played every audience she had ever performed in front of. Why couldn't they see that— “Uh, you okay, AJ?” Applejack blinked. Pinkie was standing in front of her, looking a little worried. “You feeling okay? Because, like, I could hear your teeth grinding and if you keep that up you won't have any teeth, and then how will you be able to eat my cupcakes? Not to mention, you know, all the other stuff you need teeth for.” Applejack opened her mouth to say she was fine, realized that it would be a lie, albeit a small one, and settled for taking another swig of punch while waving a dismissive hoof. “That's right, drink up!” the candy-colored earth pony said encouragingly. “I've got lots!” “Uh, Pinkie?” That was Rainbow Dash, fluttering impatiently around head-height a few paces behind Pinkie. “Aren't you getting a little sidetracked?” “Oh, right!” Pinkie stepped to the side. “AJ, I'd like to meet Ponyville's newest resident, Vinyl Scratch!” And there she was, just behind Pinkie, sporting the same smile that Applejack had been quietly loathing for half-hour. “Applejack,” said Applejack shortly, thrusting a hoof forward. She couldn't bring herself to say it was a pleasure. But the pale unicorn's smile never faltered. If anything, it widened fractionally as she shook the proffered hoof. “You own Sweet Apple Acres, don't you? I've heard your family makes some of the best cider in lowland Equestria.” “All of Equestria,” AJ corrected instantly. “Better than anythin' from Manehatten to Las Pegasus.” Overhead, Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes, appalled that anypony would want to argue about cider with Vinyl freakin' Scratch. Granted, the pegasus loved her cider as much as the next pony, but there was a time and place. But below, Vinyl Scratch was still smiling. “Well then, I regret never having the chance to sample some before now. Perhaps you think about selling some of your stock in Canterlot. After all, if it really is the best in Equestria, I can only imagine the court would love to lay in a supply.” “Ah know my own business, thank you” said Applejack with a scowl. “And ah know how to run my own farm.” Who the hay did this tourist think she was, offering advice like it was her good deed for the week, doubting Applejack's word? And she was a tourist, however much Pinkie called her a resident. She might have a house in town—Applejack assumed, she hadn't exactly been keen on the details when Pinkie invited her to this welcoming party—but what did that prove? If she was half of big a deal as Rainbow Dash seemed to think she was, she was rich enough to buy a house in every city in the whole country. As soon as she got bored, or fulfilled whatever court order had gotten her out to Ponyville, she'd be gone. As Pinkie lead the unicorn away to continue her introductions, Applejack took comfort in that fact. With any luck, she wouldn't have to lay eyes on the unicorn apart from the occasional market day. If she was lucky, not even then.
Chapter II: "Houseparty at the end of the universe"“I remember that concert you did in Cloudsdale, a few years ago, and the stallion who led the band that opened for you was old, like, when-dinosaurs-ruled-Equestria ancient, and I thought it was gonna be a nightmare. Old guy could really rock, though. I think he was almost as loud as you were!” “Yeah, Winging It will surprise you like that.” Vinyl smiled at the rainbow-maned pegasus that had been bobbing beside her for most of the party. She didn't remember that particular show (which was hardly surprising), but she had toured with Headbang and the rest more than once, and everyone seemed to get the same first impression of the elderly pegasus. “That's what they were called! It was right on the tip of my tongue. Hey, wasn't that the same tour that you burned down that hotel in Chicacolt?” “I did not burn down anything in Chicacolt,” Vinyl said with mock indignation. “There was a small misunderstanding involving exactly how many flaming cocktails could be served at once. That's all.” The pegasus's magenta eyes went wide. “So the story about you setting the entire bar on fire with just your breath is true?” Vinyl groaned as the pegasus laughed, throwing her head back for a good, long guffaw. It was an angle that did her proud, Vinyl had to admit. Her rippling, multi-colored mane was on display, and it bounced and danced as she chortled. The way her neck was extended put her lean muscles on display as well, just visibly defined beneath her sky-blue coat. Her legs and back were the same way, Vinyl noticed: narrow but taut, like a coiled spring. Like even the slightest movement could send her rocketing off in some unguessed direction. Vinyl wondered what it would take to get taken along for the ride. She felt her stomach lurch at that thought, and looked away quickly, scanning the party for somewhere safe to stare instead. Her gaze fell on the earth pony from earlier, still standing sullenly in a corner. She was drinking her punch like she had a grudge against it, slugging it down fast and refilling her cup mechanically. And, the unicorn noted, she was glaring at her, with a look of unadulterated loathing. Behind her sunglasses, Vinyl blinked. It had been a long time since she had been given the evil eye so enthusiastically. The pegasus laughter faded into the background as Vinyl tried, fruitlessly, to remember what she might have done to so offend the orange mare. She had barely even been to Ponyville before--that was the whole point. So what could have earned her so much dislike? For a moment, the unicorn felt a chill, deep in her gut—surely, the earth pony couldn't have been one of those. Her eyes safely hidden, Vinyl risked another quick glance. No, she decided with a sigh of relief, she couldn't have. Her gig in Ponyville had been a different point of her life—there was no chance that the scowling farmer's grievance could be the same one that had brought her here in the first place. Of course, that didn't mean that she couldn't have met the earth pony in some other town, at some other time... Before that thought could quite ruin Vinyl's evening, the endlessly energetic mare who was hosting the party—Pinkie, Vinyl remembered with great satisfaction—was at her side again. "Hey Rainbow!" she chirped. "You're not giving Vi here a hard time, are ya?" Rainbow, Vinyl repeated mentally. That was the pegasus's name; of course it was. How could it be anything else? "Nah, just having a little fun." Rainbow grinned at Vinyl, who returned the expression. "Finding out what it's like to be an honest-to-Celestia rockstar, you know?" "Well, no, I don't think so." Pinkie frowned. The expression darted across her face like a frightened rabbit, as if unsure of what it was doing there. "I mean, I might, if I talked to Vinyl about it, or if I'd been listening while you did it, but I had to go refill the punch, because Applejack is really putting it away, and if it runs out while there's still chips left, then everypony could get really thirsty, and the last time that happened we had to use the rain barrel, but you haven't let it rain here in more than a week, so if there's any water left at all I bet it would be really gross and--" "Right, Pinkie, of course." Rainbow interrupted. She shot Vinyl an apologetic look before continuing. "And I'm sure AJ appreciates how thoughtful you are." The pegasus glanced away from the two mares before her. "Though it sure doesn't show." Vinyl followed Rainbow's gaze to the mare glowering in the corner. Ah. That was Applejack, then. Vinyl turned away again, adjusting her shades a trifle self-consciously, but the pegasus continued to stare. "I can't figure out what her problem is. She almost bit Vinyl’s head off when you introduced the two of them, and all she did was compliment her cider.” "It doesn't bother me, really." Vinyl said quickly. "So she takes pride in her work and doesn't like to be told how to do it by strangers. I can't imagine I'd like her telling me I was spinning records all wrong, either." "Yeah, 'cause you spin 'em exactly right." Rainbow snorted. "But AJ's... well, AJ. She might not listen to your stuff, but she's looking at you like just burned her barn down. That just doesn't happen." "Do you think it's the punch?" Pinkie sounded worried, shifting from hoof to hoof. "Ooo! I could get another flavor! And maybe add some of that syrup I found in that shop in Canterlot, the one that came with a liability form and ownership license!" As she spoke, she began bouncing from hoof to hoof enthusiastically, picking up a surprising amount of speed over the course of a few seconds. "I'm sure the punch is fine," Vinyl said quickly, before Pinkie could vibrate herself to pieces. To prove her point she snatched a cup from the sideboard with her magic and brought it quickly across the room and to her mouth. Applejack, she noticed, spared several seconds of glare for the cup as it bobbed past her muzzle. "Yeah, Pinkie, the punch is great" Rainbow agreed. "So what's eating AJ?" Vinyl continued to take frequent sips of the punch—with, in truth, she found entirely lacking in the rum department--as the two mares debated what could have gotten into their friend. She sighed. It was an uncomfortable kind of conversation to listen to, especially because it was all caused by one pony's lukewarm--or, okay, positively frigid--reaction to meeting her. But disliking Vinyl Scratch wasn't a crime, whatever her agent said to sell tickets. "Look," she said when her cup had run out of ways to distract her, "maybe she's just having a bad day. Maybe she's worried about something, maybe she just doesn't like my face or my hairstyle. Who cares? It's a party—let's party. Where's the stereo, Pinkie?" Rainbow's face lit up. "You got something planned?" Vinyl shot her an easy grin. "Not today. Right now, I just wanna dance." ~*~*~*~ Much later, when the last of the guests were gone and the party was well and truly over, Vinyl was patrolling Sugarcube Corner with Pinkie, corralling abandoned cups and plates, returning displaced furniture to its rightful place in the universe, and generally getting a feel for the side of parties that she hadn't been on for years. "I 'preciate the help, Vi" Pinkie mumbled as she trotted past, a stack of plates nearly as tall as she was balanced precariously on her nose. Vinyl watched the teetering tower, mesmerized, until with a sound very much like a sneeze the pink earth pony deposited her burden in the sink. "But I've cleaned up after a lot of parties with no one to help but Gummy, and he mostly just sits and licks crumbs off of stuff." Vinyl chuckled. "I don't mind. Besides, I figure it’s the least I could do in return for you letting me crash here tonight. Sorry about that, by the way—I didn't really plan very well." Or at all... "Hey, no problem! I mean, it’s not your fault Ponyville doesn't have a hotel. But a bakery's even better! And a lot better than the library. That's where the last unicorn that came here had to stay!" Pinkie, for some reason, began to giggle at that point, and Vinyl was able ferret out two forks and a saucer that had inexplicably ended up behind a couch before she finished. "Uh, that reminds me, actually. Do you know where in Ponyville I could get a job?" "We-e-e-e-e-ell..." Pinkie tapped a hoof on her chin. "Ponyville already has a librarian, a mayor, a tailor, a baker, a candlestick maker..." She shrugged. "Rarity might be looking for a new model in time for fall, and Twilight's said something about finding a unicorn test subject that won't run away..." She shrugged. "I guess I don't really know. I don't pay too much attention to jobs outside of Sugarcube Corner." She spotted a pastry sitting alone and lost on a platter, and popped it into her mouth. "'Cause, I mean, why would I want to work anywhere else?" Vinyl smiled. "I can't think of a reason." She paused. "Hey, do you know if any of the farmers around here hire extra hooves?" Pinkie scratched her head. "Well... the Apples do, sometimes, but Sweet Apple Acres is just about the biggest farm around here. Most ponies just keep gardens." "The Apple Family?" Vinyl blinked. "Would that include...?" "Applejack? Oh, yeah!" Pinkie brightened for an instant, then seemed to droop. "Oh, yeah. Do you think that could be a problem?" Vinyl shrugged. "No way to know until I ask." She returned to cleaning, her mind made up. Next morning, she would go down to Sweet Apple Acres and ask the mare with the very fine cider and the very angry eyes for work. As she worked, Vinyl found herself whistling. She was rather looking forward to it.
Chapter III: "Slug salt and spit it out"Applejack set her hooves carefully, planting them in the soft earth. There wasn't an art to this, not quite. Art was what Rarity did. It wasn't quite a science, either. Science was what Twilight did. No, this was a craft. There was craft in knowing each tree, from the depth of its roots to the strength of its limbs to the ripeness of its fruit. There was craft in knowing exactly how hard and fast to strike the trunk, to shake free only the fruit ready to fall. It was Applejack's craft, and she knew it well. She kicked out at the tree, savoring the silence of the one frozen moment, before her hooves connected and she felt the shock run up her legs. Grinning, she cocked her head, listening for the gentle thud of falling apples. “AJ! There's somepony here to see you!” Applejack sighed as her sister's voice cut through the morning stillness. As she shouldered the newly filled basket onto her back, she wondered what sort of visitor was important enough to demand her attention, but not familiar enough to simply be directed up the hills to meet her. Her suspense didn't last long: her visitor was waiting at the gate to Sweet Apple Acres, wearing a familiar set of round sunglasses and an irritating smile. Applejack slowed her pace as she approached, not bothering to hide her glare at the unicorn who watched her with that same carefully-disguised sneer. Dropping the basket from her back unceremoniously, Applejack nudged it towards her sister. “Applebloom, take these to Granny Smith.” When Applebloom remained, looking in confusion from her sister's scowling face to the visitor's smiling one, Applejack sighed. “Run along now, little filly.” As Applebloom (reluctantly) departed, Applejack turned towards Vinyl Scratch, unconsciously placing herself between the sister and the unicorn she was thinking of as an intruder. “What do you want?” If Vinyl Scratch was offended at her flat and unfriendly tone, it didn't show. “I'm looking for a job. You wouldn't happen to be looking for a farmhoof would you?” Applejack stared at the pale unicorn. “A job? Why in tarnation would you need a job?” Vinyl Scratch shrugged. “Well, you know. I'm new in town, and I have to keep myself fed somehow.” Now thoroughly certain she was the subject of some kind of joke, Applejack opened her mouth, prepared to shout the DJ off of her property. However, she paused, as a small, uncharitable little thought made itself heard. She's just doing this to get to you. She needs money like you need a spoiled unicorn getting in the way around here. So why not call her bluff? Don't just offer a job, offer her a hard, dirty and unpleasant one. Just to turn the tables. Just to watch her squirm. “Well,” she said thoughtfully, “there's the always the western hill. It's part of the farm, technic'ly, but it's too full of rocks too plant on. Ah don't suppose you'd be interested in clearin' some of them boulders out?” She smirked, eager to hear what sort of excuse the unicorn would scramble to find. “Sure. What's the pay?” Applejack blinked. “What?” “I said, the job sounds good. What's the pay?” Vinyl repeated patiently. “Uh...” Applejack rummaged through her memories, trying to remember what Big Macintosh had offered the farmhooves when she was down with the flu one harvest season. “Eight bits a day.” Vinyl Scratch nodded thoughtfully. “Benefits?” “Not'nless you count the right to sleep in the barn.” “I'll take it.” The unicorn thrust a hoof towards Applejack. The earth pony stared at the extended hoof. “You sure you want this kinda work?” “Why not?” Vinyl Scratch shrugged. “It's been a while since I got to stretch my muscles—or my magic.” “Your funeral.” Applejack muttered to herself as she shook the unicorn's hoof. As she turned away, she called over her shoulder, “West hill's this way.” As the unicorn followed her through the gate and across the hills of Sweet Apple Acres, Applejack wondered just what she had agreed to. -x- The hill that Applejack lead Vinyl Scratch too was much like the rest of the farm: low and with a gentle slope, covered in thick grass that was kept short by the regular attention of the family's cows and sheep. But where the other hills were covered in neat rows of apple trees, the western-most hill held only piles and outcroppings of grey stone. The largest of the rocks stood about as tall as a pony, at least above ground, but they were few and far between. Most were smaller, half-buried, and Applejack knew from experience how difficult they could be to prise from the earth. “Well, here y'are.” Applejack said, waving a hoof to take in the hilltop. “Looks like I have my work cut out for me,” Vinyl Scratch observed. She gave the nearest stone an experimental prod with a hoof. “This might take me more than a day or two.” The earth pony shrugged as the possibility that the DJ would back down when faced with what exactly she had signed on for quietly slipped away. “That's fine, ah guess. Just so long as the work gets done. Come see me at the end of the day for your pay.” She hesitated, then said “an' if you come down to the farmhouse around noon, I'll make sure Granny has lunch waitin' for you.” Vinyl Scratch nodded absently. “That'd be great. Thanks, boss.” Applejack opened her mouth to tell the unicorn that her name would be fine, but settled for turning away, shaking her head. She might not like Vinyl Scratch, but the mare was her employee—apparently—and there was no need to go looking for an argument. The earth pony trotted away, leaving the newest farmhoof alone on the hill, and headed for the orchard. The business of hiring Vinyl Scratch had set her behind on her work for the day, and she needed to catch up—especially considering she'd need to pay the unicorn's wages as well. As she crested the first hill, however, she was brought up short by a familiar stallion waiting for her. “Hey, Big Mac. You lookin' for me?” “Yup. Applebloom said you came up here with some strange pony.” Applejack's brother nodded across at the rocky hill, where a head-sized boulder was rising into the air, wrapped in a white aura. “That her?” “Yeah. She came lookin' for a job. Ah told her she could clear the rocks off the hill for eight bits a day.” Big Macintosh nodded thoughtfully. “We could move the saplings we got comin' in down south out there. Good thinkin'.” Applejack nodded distractedly as she and her brother set off down the hill. “But, just who is she?” The orange earth pony sighed. “Her name's Vinyl Scratch. Accordin' to Rainbow, she's some kinda rock star.” Macintosh blinked. “Then what's she doin' workin' for us?” “Honestly, Mac? I got no idea.” Whatever her reasons for working on the Apple family's farm, Applejack couldn't accuse Vinyl Scratch of not taking her job seriously. By the time the unicorn came down from the hills for lunch, her mane was drooping and matted with sweat. But she was still smiling, the tight little grin that made Applejack's skin crawl. There was something so false, so dishonest about the expression that the earth pony could barely stand looking at it. If Vinyl Scratch picked up on her hostility, though, it didn't show: the only time it dropped off the unicorn's face was when she was wolfing down the sandwich that Granny Smith had set out for her. Then, with a “thanks” mumbled around the last mouthful, she trotted off west to resume her work. And that was it, really. For most of the day, Applejack could almost forget that the unicorn was working on the farm. She was reminded, however, in the late afternoon, when a sky-blue pegasus dropped from on high. “Alright, AJ, what the hay did you do?” The earth pony rolled her eyes. “Nice to see you too, Rainbow.” “Was it blackmail? Did she lose some kind of bet?” Rainbow Dash continued, ignoring Applejack's greeting. She gasped. “It was drugs, wasn't it? You poisoned her at Pinkie's party, and this is the only way you'll give her the antidote! Applejack, how could you?!” The farmer frowned. “Just what in the world are you talkin' about, sugarcube? I ain't done nothing to nopony.” “Oh, yeah? Then why is Vinyl Scratch—as in, Vinyl Scratch, the most awesome musician in all of Equestria—breaking rocks on your farm?” Applejack sighed. For all her speed, Rainbow Dash had yet to learn to look before she leapt. “She's on my farm 'cuz she asked for a job, sugarcube. Nothin' more to it than that.” The pegasus hesitated. On the one hoof, the idea that Vinyl Scratch would look for a menial job was crazy. On the other, that's what Applejack said had happened, and the earth pony could no more tell a barefaced lie than she could fly. So Rainbow Dash settled for asking “Why?” “Y'know, you could ask her yourself,” Applejack pointed out, annoyed at hearing the same question she had asked herself all morning. “Uh...” Rainbow Dash looked sheepish. “I did. I saw her working when I flew over and dropped down to ask what she was doing.” “And she said...?” “Working for you. And when I asked why, she just said it was private.” Applejack tapped an impatient hoof. “Then why'd you think I would know?” The pegasus shrugged. “I dunno. I figured it had something to do with why she chose your farm. I mean, if she just needed a quick bit, she could offer to endorse Rarity's dresses. It'd pay a lot better than busting rocks.” “She's movin' rocks, not bustin' em. She's a farmhoof, not a miner.” “She's a DJ. So what's she doing out here?” Applejack just shook her head, turning back to the tree she was trimming of dead branches. She wished ponies would stop asking her that question. She wished she could stop asking it herself. -x- But when Celestia's sun was low in the sky, and the unicorn made her way down from the hills, Applejack resisted the urge to ask the question of the one pony who could answer it. Vinyl Scratch's reasons were her own, and Applejack wouldn't press her to reveal them—no matter how curious she felt. But as she accepted the small pouch containing her wages, it was the unicorn who spoke. “I hope your friend didn't give you too much trouble. She seemed pretty agitated when she left.” “Rainbow Dash can get riled up, but she's got a good heart,” Applejack replied. “And meetin' your idols can get anypony excited.” “Er, yeah. About that...” Vinyl Scratch began, but Applejack was too busy staring to listen to the rest of her sentence. For the first time, the unicorn had lost the smile that got under her skin so effectively, and the lack of it seemed to change her whole face. Her lips lost their sneer; her round glasses became playful, rather than unfriendly; and on the whole her face seemed more real, less like a mask. Applejack slowly became aware of an uncomfortable silence where her reply should have been. Blushing slightly, she said “Sorry, ah didn't quite catch that.” Vinyl gave her an odd look. Applejack found that she didn't mind—it was sincere confusion, after all. “I asked if you could not mention that I was working here. I mean... I'm kinda well known, and if many ponies like your pegasus friend stop by, it'll get in the way of the farm work.” “Her name's Rainbow Dash,” Applejack responded automatically, before she pulled herself together. “But sure. Ah'll make sure nopony bothers you.” “Great, thanks!” Vinyl Scratch grinned at her. It was like a door slamming shut. All at once, the unicorn's defenses were back up, her smile back in place, her glasses once more like armor. But as the unicorn disappeared down the road to town, Applejack felt oddly cheerful. There was something genuine in Vinyl Scratch, even if the disc jockey kept it hidden most of the time. And that, the earth pony decided, did something that neither celebrity nor Rainbow's bluster had accomplished before: it made her worthwhile.
