Strange Bedfellows

by Fernin

Rating: teen
Tags: Alternate Universe, Human, Applejack, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy
Length: 8980

AJ's stubbornness could derail a diplomatic conference. Can one Texas Guardsman solve the problem?

Princess Celestia gave very clear instructions to Twilight and her friends before sending them through the Interface to the temporary embassy on Earth: without the unanimous support of all six mares, any and all negotiations with the humans of the Confederate Gulf States will come to a screeching halt.

Both sides have much to gain from a cordial relationship and, after a week of feverish talks, the Confederacy has brought around five of the six Equestrian ambassadors... But there is one hold-out: Applejack. How can the CGS' diplomatic team get Applejack to sign off on the deal?

That's a tricky question, but by no means the hardest... The hardest is being asked by Texas Guard Corporal Robert E. L. Cargyle: why the heck do his bosses think that he is the one for the job?!

One thing's for sure... Politics definitely makes for some strange bedfellows.

Art by Tzelly-El.

A/N: Don't worry, readers; despite the title, this is not a clopfic

Tagged alternate universe for things on the HUMAN side of things, not the Equestrian side. I only made this an alternate human history for my own personal amusement... and so that I could fudge the details of protocol etc for the diplomatic stuff.

This is just a silly little thing I came up with after watching some line dancing when I got dragged to a country bar for someone's going away party. Anyway, it was fun.

Published 2012-02-07 05:31:29 UTC
Last updated 2012-02-07 05:31:29 UTC

Part 1

Applejack looked at the expectant eyes of her friend and, unfortunately, one of her co-ambassadors. The orange earth pony sighed. It was awful of her to disappoint the unicorn’s expectations like this, she knew. But… She shook her head. “Twilight, Ah have to tell you what Ah told Pinkie. Ah jest don’t know.”

Twilight Sparkle had hoped that this private meeting with Applejack would be productive, but with this new revelation most of her hopes evaporated instantly. Pinkie Pie had visited Applejack and hadn’t gotten any further than this, either? Groaning in frustration, Twilight pressed a hoof to her head and tried to massage away the rising headache caused by Applejack’s obstinacy. “AJ, could you at least explain why so that everypony can help you make a decision?”

“Like Ah already told Pinkie, Ah… Ah can’t tell if they’re really good ponies—er, Ah mean people—or not,” Applejack replied, waving one hoof as she tried to put her worries into words. Twilight simply groaned and sat down on the carpeted floor with a thump.

It had been like this for days. At first, Applejack’s earnest desire to do a thorough job had made good sense. All five of Twilight’s fellow Element Bearers were supposed to help Twilight make sure that Equestria’s newest neighbors were the honest, pleasant creatures they portrayed themselves to be. But a week into the negotiations, the lavender unicorn was beginning to wonder whether her farm pony colleague was doing this intentionally just to see how far she could fray Twilight Sparkle’s remaining nerves… No, that was unfair. Anypony could see that Applejack was getting just as agitated about the continued lack of resolution as anypony else. After all, Applebucking Season was coming up rapidly.

Twilight tried again. “Okay, Applejack. What specific problems do you have? I mean, we’ve spent hours talking with Ambassador Hudson and his staff. They’ve given us tours around the immediate area on their side of the Interface. They’ve told us everything we’ve asked about and more—even that awful stuff about the way they like eating… ergh… and their… Well, you know.”

“Ah… Ah guess it’s just all this fanciness,” Applejack admitted after a long moment of silence.

“‘Fanciness?’” echoed the puzzled unicorn. If Twilight had been forced to come up with one word to describe the two mares’ current surroundings, ‘fancy’ wouldn’t have been it.

Twilight Sparkle looked around the austere room that was serving as the Equestrian delegation’s temporary lounge here on the human side of the ‘Interface’ (or as Pinkie called it, the Big Swirly Blue Thingie). Some pains had been taken to make the ponies comfortable with the addition of slightly-too-large plush chairs and a nice carpet. Unfortunately the gray walls and blue-tinted buzzing lights made it clear that up until a week or so ago this building had been built for a very different purpose from its current existence as a sort of mutual embassy.

“Fanciness,” Applejack repeated. “It’s… There’s all this talk, and talk, and talk. Twi, Ah know you’ve heard ‘em say the same things Ah’ve heard. But… it’s like Manehattan. Ah haven’t seen one genuine article since Ah got here. Maybe if the Princesses hadn’t said what they said Ah could just trust anypony who could win the support of you, and Dash, and Pinkie, and Rarity, and even Fluttershy.”

Applejack sighed, her tail swishing in agitation as she continued, “…But the Princesses said that what y’all thought didn’t matter if Ah couldn’t give mah personal guarantee as the Element of Honesty. And Ah’m about two days away from turnin’ tail and gallopin’ back to Sweet Apple Acres as fast as mah hooves can take me.”

Biting her lip, Twilight nodded. If Applejack did that, all the work that the other Element Bearers and their human counterparts had done would be for nothing. The alicorn ponies’ orders had been clear: without unanimous consent by the Element Bearers, the two rulers would use their powers to seal the Interface for good. No more fascinating exchange of human and pony knowledge. No opportunity for Twilight to examine the road less taken in the humans’ odd replacements for magic. No opening of vast new markets for Equestrian farmers and artisans. If the human delegation couldn’t win Applejack over soon, with or without her friends’ help, it would all be for nothing.

* * *

The clock in the Interface Embassy ticked. Papers rustled as the recently appointed Ambassador James Hudson reviewed his notes. These were the only sounds in the embassy’s largest human-occupied office… save for the desperately quiet noises of Corporal Robert E. L. Cargyle trying to remain absolutely, perfectly still. The ambassador let the young man stew for a few moments more before setting down the binder with a thump. He rubbed his eyes, wincing as the habitual gesture poked the still painful injury that had recently left him a cyclops. “For the love of God, Corporal. You don’t have to sit at the position of attention for me. I’ve already told you ‘at ease’ three times, haven’t I?”

“Sir! Four times, sir,” Corporal Cargyle corrected. He shifted uneasily, unwilling to leave the safety of strict military formality despite the ambassador’s exceptionally loose approach to protocol. This was… uncomfortable, to say the least.

Ambassador Hudson stared back at the young Guardsman. Corporal Cargyle looked crisp and new in the olive green dress uniform of the Texan Guard, like he’d come straight out of a box as a life-sized action figure. The diplomat sighed. “Look, Corporal. I served in the Gulf State Militia back before Reunification. I know a thing or two about a professional military, and I can assure you I’m not going to bite or fire you or throw you over a desk just because you sneeze without asking permission first.”

“I hope it won’t come to that, sir,” Corporal Cargyle acknowledged noncommittally. The Texas Guard’s universal opinion of the Gulf State Militia didn’t include either the description ‘professional’ or the word ‘military,’ and the Guardsman was pretty sure that if someone was going to get thrown over a desk, it wouldn’t be the portly 50-something diplomat who would be doing the throwing. Not that Robert would ever say any of that within earshot of his new boss.

The ambassador’s unbandaged gray eye drilled into Cargyle’s brown ones as the two stared at each other. The diplomat blinked first… or perhaps he winked at Robert. It was hard to tell when matching gazes with a temporarily one-eyed opponent.

Ambassador Hudson’s face split in a huge grin. He laughed. “That was very… diplomatic of you, Robert. Well done. And in fact, that’s why you’re here today. Here. Look through this and ask me when you have questions.”

Cargyle nearly leaped out of his chair to catch the binder as the ambassador tossed it in his direction. He opened the first page and hesitated. “Sir… this is stamped Most Secret. I’m not cleared to read any further.”

“Oh, for f- All right, fine.” Growling in irritation, Ambassador Hudson scribbled out few brief lines on a sheet of stationery. Signing it with a flourish, he passed it over to the Guardsman along with a second photocopied page. Corporal Cargyle stared at them both. He’d only ever heard of situations like this. A direct authorization from the President?

Ambassador Hudson waved languidly at the twin letters of authorization—his and Confederate President Rodriguez’s—and drawled, “So you see, Corporal Cargyle, clearance isn’t a problem. Now then. Proceed.”

Hands shaking slightly, Cargyle began to read. A lot of the information shouldn’t even have been classified: after all, it was already public knowledge. Some few months before, there had been an incident at an experimental power laboratory here in northern Texas, right near the border with the Plains Union. This laboratory, in fact. And now the Confederacy was the proud owner of the world’s first known inter-dimensional portal… and had the distinction, for what it was worth, of being the first nation in the former United States to make contact with extraterrestrials: the ‘Equestrians.’

Corporal Cargyle turned the page, wondering what exactly it was he was supposed to be getting out of all this. He risked a glance up to see Ambassador Hudson watching him with his one good eye. The Guardsman wondered yet again what could possibly have happened, there. What, did the ambassador poke his eye out with a cocktail skewer? Robert found himself chuckling at the thought. Thankfully the cyclopean James Hudson didn’t seem to notice.

The next page was covered with a series of photos, all starring one of the six Equestrian ambassadors. Having done security detail here at the embassy for the past week, Cargyle had gotten somewhat used to the odd appearance of the diminutive little horse-people… but was still odd to think of them as real flesh-and-blood creatures instead of something out of a storybook. Amusingly enough, the pony featured in all the pictures seemed to be wearing an Equestrian-sized cowboy hat. Robert vaguely remembered seeing her a few times around the compound, usually peering out the chain link fencing into the rolling plains beyond. Heh. He could sympathize.

“Her name is Applejack,” Ambassador Hudson explained—rather unnecessarily considering the name was plastered all over the page. “She’s the last holdout. And, according to our sources, if she doesn’t sign off on this deal in the next few days, we might as well all pack up and go home.”

“..Sir?” Corporal Cargyle put the binder down. This was all very interesting, but so many pay grades above a corporal’s rank that Robert had to wonder why, precisely he was getting this information. He was starting to get an idea, but… Corporal Cargyle began to get a horrible sinking feeling. No. No, it couldn’t be. That would be stupid.

Ambassador Hudson leaned forward on his desk, making sure he had the increasingly nervous Guardsman’s full attention. “Corporal Cargyle, you are going to make sure this doesn’t happen. We believe you are the man for the job. We’ve arranged some time off for you from your usual duties for this.”

“But sir! Ambassador. What, exactly, do you want me to do here?!” Military protocol forgotten, Corporal Cargyle practically erupted from his seat. Robert wasn’t some James Bond type, damnit, he was a Texas Guardsman on the embassy detail!

“Nothing crazy, Guardsman. We just need you to find a way to convince Ambassador Applejack that we’re all good folks here in the Confederacy. Think you can do that? Of course you can.” The ambassador smiled winningly and stood, indicating that the briefing was at an end. Rounding his desk to help Cargyle to his feet, he said, “Approach it as you see fit, Robert. Take as much time as you need... as long as you don’t need more than two days.”

This was nuts. If diplomacy between the Equestrians and the Confederate Gulf States failed, it sure as shooting wasn’t going to be pinned on one Corporal Robert Edward Lee Cargyle. Taking a deep breath, Cargyle shook his head and protested, “Sir, I’m not a diplomat. I don’t understand why you’re picking some random embassy guard for this. Isn’t the situation a bit more serious than that?”

Ambassador Hudson slapped Robert on the back reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it, Cargyle. Some of the top thinkers at this conference think you’re the man for the job.”

“Who?” the corporal managed as Ambassador Hudson propelled him toward the door.

The diplomat pushed both letters of authorization into Corporal Cargyle’s hands and opened the door. “Top thinkers. Now, take these and git. I have a party to plan.”

* * *

The wide, high-ceilinged banquet room had been a loading bay in its former life, but now it was innocent of piled boxes or forklifts. Various dignitaries, Confederate and Equestrian, took up much of the floor space around long, white-swathed tables. The diplomats chatted in small groups and congregated around the punch bowls and platters of hors d’oeuvres. Waiters moved gracefully through the crowd, refilling drinks and spiriting away discarded plates and silverware.

With the notable change that half the guests were tiny little horse-people instead of humans, Corporal Cargyle had seen this all before. Being an embassy guard meant standing around bored at lots of parties like this one, and sometimes getting to attend as a guest. Embassy detail was a cushy assignment that let Guardsmen like Robert spend a year or so rubbing elbows with the movers and shakers before heading back out to the real military—standing watch on the border with the Democratic Republic of the Plains, patrolling the Rio Grande opposite Nuevo Tenochtitlan…

The embassy detail had treated Corporal Cargyle right. Up until now, anyway. Sergeant Morales, the guard at the door, gave his friend a grin and a wink as the nervous corporal walked through the door and into the party proper. The Texas Guardsman suppressed the urge to shudder as he felt the weight of his task bearing down on his broad shoulders. How the hell did Ambassador Hudson expect him to do this?

If Corporal Cargyle was going to go down in history as the man who lost Equestria, he wasn’t going to do it thirsty. He headed to the punch bowl and poured himself a glass. The punch burned his throat a bit going down, but hit the spot. All right, now to find that orange pony. What was her name again?

“Some party, eh?” drawled a soft feminine voice off to Robert’s left.

“Oh, I don’t know. The drinks are okay, but the little cracker things aren’t all that,” Corporal Cargyle replied with a shrug, keeping his eyes scanning the room. How hard could it be to pick out one of the six Equestrian ambassadors in a crowd? Damn, this was going to fill his dance card for the evening, wasn’t it? Thanks for nothing, Ambassador Hudson.

“Hah! Ah hear that.” The hearty guffaw from Cargyle’s fellow crowd watcher was hardly the demure titter of a southern belle that he’d expected. The girl chuckled a bit more when a few dignitaries shot angry looks in the pair’s direction and quickly turned back to their hushed conversations. Robert heard a crunch as his companion chewed thoughtfully on some appetizer or other. “Ayup. Mah family’s grub could beat this frou-frou stuff any day of the week. Too bad they didn’t have us cater it, hah.”

“I bet. What do you think of the music?” Corporal Cargyle found himself smiling as he continued to scan the crowd. Well, there was the purple one… And there was the white one, talking with Ambassador Hudson’s wife. Robert spotted the pink one with the frizzy hair over by another punch bowl, but quickly looked away. The pink pony had been staring right at him with the creepiest grin on her face.

“It ain’t what we play at home, that’s for sure,” the girl replied with a laugh. “Well how about that. Only a week here and Ah’m already polishing up mah dip-lo-matic skills.”

Cargyle resisted the urge to abandon his mission and to focus on his as yet unseen companion. She sounded hot and she thought he was funny, what was there not to like about that? He didn’t recognize the voice though, and the accent seemed a bit thicker than most he’d heard. Was she new on the embassy staff? She’d just said she’d only been here a week… And where the heck was that damned orange pony? Robert was going to have to go hunting for her; he could feel it.

“Definitely wouldn’t complain if they put on some of the old pre-war stuff. That’s the only music that’s any good any more. Maybe some Johnny Cash,” Corporal Cargyle agreed, refilling his punch glass and taking another sip.

It occurred to the Texas Guardsman that he was being terribly rude. Good thing his dear old mother wasn’t here to see this. He quickly filled a second glass and turned to face his unseen companion, saying, “I’m Robert. Corporal Robert Cargyle, Texas Guard. Would you like some punch, Miss—”

There was no one there. Cargyle looked down. The filled glass nearly dropped from his suddenly numb fingers. Two emerald green eyes stared up at Robert from under the wide brim of a Stetson. The cowboy hat was perched atop the head of an orange-pelted pony wearing an embroidered green and brown dress. It was Applejack. The corporal’s throat went even drier than before as he handed the glass down to the Equestrian ambassador. “Here you are, Ambassador.”

“Aw, don’t call me that. It’s plain old Applejack. Ah get confused when folks start usin’ weird titles like that. But thanks fer the punch anyway.” Somehow managing to pinch the glass in her fetlock, the mare raised it in toast. “Anyway, here’s to another boring party. Like ya said, at least the punch ain’t too bad.”

“Heh, tell me about it,” Corporal Cargyle agreed with a rueful grin. Crap, here was the ambassador herself, and he’d been jaw-jacking away as if she were just some girl. He scrambled to say something intelligent and rallied with, “My platoon’s Reunification Day party was better than this, and that was after the LT forgot to buy charcoal for the grill. Sergeant Jones and I had to go running halfway across New Austin just to find a store that still had any. By the time we got back, the rest of the platoon had already drunk all the beer. Bastards. Er, sorry Miss Applejack.”

Chuckling, Applejack waved on the hesitating Guardsman. This was the most interesting party conversation she’d had in the past several days at least. It almost made the humans seem like real ponies. Or, people, rather. “Come on now, Robert, Ah don’t bite. So, what brings ya here? Y’all with the fancy green suits there are usually watchin’ the doors and standin’ on the roof, not chattin’ with us diplomatic types.”

“I’m uh…” Corporal Cargyle had been wracking his brains trying to come up with the best approach here, but so far there had been no flashes of genius. “Actually, I’m here for you.”

The orange mare blinked. “…Beg pardon?”

Cargyle drove on, letting his father’s words echo in his brain. Honesty is the best policy, Robert. Honesty is the best policy. Honesty is the best policy. “Ambassador Hudson thinks we’re not going to reach an agreement and all this will be for nothing, and… Look, Miss Applejack. I don’t know the first thing about diplomacy, but you seem like a reasonable, um, pony. What’s keeping you from giving us a thumbs up on—oh geeze.”

Applejack laughed again at Corporal Cargyle’s embarrassed expression. She finished the rest of her punch and smiled up at the Guardsman. “Did ya know, Robert, yer the first human to come straight out and ask me that?”

“I didn’t.” Taking the raised cup, Corporal Cargyle refilled it and handed it back. He filled his own cup and drank some down. The punch was really hitting the spot… and it gave Robert an excuse not to say anything before he stuck his foot in his mouth any more than he may already have done.

Looking around, Applejack saw several sets of eyes—pony and otherwise—watching her chat with the human. She shifted uneasily at the attention and looked back to Corporal Cargyle. “Come on, Robert. Let’s get some fresh air. Fresher ‘n here, anyway.”

“Sure. This way, Ambassador.” Slipping back into formality, Corporal Cargyle started to lead the way to the door. He stopped short when he realized the Equestrian ambassador wasn’t following him.

“Now, Robert, Ah think we’ve talked…” Applejack took another sip of the punch and finished her cup, continuing, “…Enough fer ya to stop callin’ me ‘Miss’ and ‘Ambassador’ and start usin’ mah name.”

Pony and Guardsman exchanged glances. Robert took another swig of his punch and finished off his own glass. He smiled and nodded. “All right then, Applejack. Let’s go.”

Giving the puzzled Sergeant Morales a sheepish grin, Corporal Cargyle led the way through the compound until they reached the last door, flanked by a couple of serious-looking Texas Guardsmen. Robert showed them the letters of authorization. “Evening, Private Richards. Evening, Sergeant Strong. The ambassador and I are going outside for a few minutes.”

Cargyle could feel two questioning gazes on him as he held the door open and let Applejack step through into the brilliantly lit exterior of the compound. Tugging on his beret he walked after the pony as she trotted out to the edge of the fence. The cool evening breeze was doing little to draw away the heat Robert had built up in his wool dress uniform, and he wished he could at least unbutton the jacket. Instead, he suffered in silence as the Equestrian diplomat put a forehoof to the fence and glanced out onto the dark, rolling plains.

After a moment, Applejack turned and looked up. “Aw… ponyfeathers. Ah can’t even see the stars out here, with all these lights like this.”

Knowing enough to tell when words were unnecessary, Corporal Cargyle kept quiet and followed the pony’s gaze. The harsh glare of the security lights blotted out everything but the black expanse of the sky and even dimmed the crescent moon. He looked back down to see Applejack looking at him.

“Ya wanted to know why Ah haven’t given the okay yet, right?” asked the diplomat.

Corporal Cargyle nodded. “That’s right, M-- Applejack.”

“It’s… Yer the first human to come out and ask. Ah get the impression y’all love to use big fancy words and to dance around things. That may be all right for Rarity or Twilight, but Ah’m a simple pony. Ah’m not here to use ten-bit words and to agree how much everypony likes everypony else without really sayin’ anything, right?” Applejack waved a hoof expressively.

“You think we’re all hat and no cattle?” suggested the listening Cargyle as he took a seat next to the ambassador. “I mean, you think that we’re just saying this stuff to get you into bed—whoops, sorry…”

Corporal Cargyle groaned internally. What was with him tonight? Robert’s cheeks flushed hotly as the ambassador looked sidelong at him. Fortunately once again Applejack found his diplomatic misstep more amusing than offensive. She chuckled into her hoof. “Couldn’t have put it better mahself. So, since we’re havin’ this here honest heart-to-heart, a question fer y’all humans. What d’ya really want from Equestria?”

“Food,” Robert replied without thinking. Applejack took a hasty step backwards, staring at the human with wide, horrified eyes. Cargyle looked at her in puzzlement for a moment before comprehension dawned. “Wha—oh. No. Not that. God, no. No. Horses aren’t for eating.”

Gesturing to the shadowed plains that stretched out before him, Corporal Cargyle explained, “Applejack, we need more grain and vegetables and such than we can grow. Our… neighbors won’t sell to us at prices we can pay forever. They want us weak, so we can’t keep our borders safe. It’s like a family farm. If food is expensive, we can’t eat and keep our fences mended at the same time. We can’t repair our truck. We can’t even replace the shingles on our roof. Am I making any sense?”

“Ah think ya jest may be,” answered the pony. Applejack nodded with a thoughtful look on her face. “All yer diplomats kept going on about ‘mutually beneficial trade agreements ‘n suchlike. This, Ah understand. Ah’ll consider it…”

When Applejack trailed off, Corporal Cargyle turned to look at her. The wind ruffled through the pony’s long blond mane as she sighed. Finally she climbed to her hooves, the expression on her face souring. “Well, Ah suppose we’d better get back to the ‘party.’ Ugh. How Pinkie puts up with this kinda thing Ah don’t know. These things ain’t worth the word ‘party.’”

Corporal Cargyle laughed and got up, swaying a bit. Whoah. Must have stood up too fast. Making sure to get the door, he led the way back to the banquet hall. The minute they entered, Robert could see Assistant Ambassador Michaelson making a beeline for his companion. Uh oh. Turning, he bowed slightly to the orange-pelted ambassador. “Well, Applejack, I’ve said my piece. Don’t want to overstay my welcome…”

“Huh? Why do ya—oh,” sighed Applejack as she saw the diplomat headed her way. “All right. Have a good evenin.’”

Well, that had gone… surprisingly well. Corporal Cargyle wondered vaguely if he’d missed his calling to the State Department as he made his way back over to the food. One of the other of-duty Guardsmen was already there. Private Adams grinned. “Hey, Corporal Cargyle. Fun times, eh?”

“Yeah. Good stuff,” Cargyle agreed, his voice flat. He poured himself another glass of punch. “How’s it going?”

“Well I think I have a chance with this little hottie across the way… just got here from Nacogdoches. She’s a secretary. I’ve been telling her aaaaaalll about embassy guard duty,” snickered the private, leaving the amount of exaggeration in his tales to the imagination of the other Guardsman. “You got anyone going this evening?”

Thanks to Ambassador Hudson, not so much. Corporal Cargyle shook his head and took another gulp of his punch. It really was quite good. “Nope, not tonight.”

“Too bad, I bet—whoops, better go.” Seeing someone else making a move on the secretary, Private Adams hurried back to his girl, punch in hand. Once again, Corporal Cargyle was alone. He finished off his drink again and refilled the glass. Maybe after a few minutes he could get out of here without Ambassador Hudson noticing.

Unfortunately, no such luck. Corporal Cargyle stayed where he was, slowly using the distraction of the punch to dull his boredom at the insipid background music and murmurs of pointless conversations. Robert was pretty sure by this point that the punch wasn’t non-alcoholic, but who cared? It wasn’t like he had any other plans for the evening…

About five glasses in, a vaguely familiar presence intruded on Cargyle’s booze-soaked musings. A light voice with an attractive drawl called, “’Scuse me, Partner. Ah’m a bit parched. Could you get me some punch?”

Corporal Cargyle filled a glass and turned. Nobody was there. He looked down. There was Applejack, looking somewhat worse for wear from her conversation with Assistant Ambassador Michaelson. She chuckled tiredly. “Havin’ a good time yet?”

“Nope. You?” Robert passed the drink to the Equestrian ambassador and the two shared a smile. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Cheers!”

Clinking his glass against Applejack’s, Robert trained it to the dregs. After a moment, the pony followed suit. “Ah didn’t think he’d ever stop talkin’ about… whatever that was.”

“I’ll drink to that! …Or maybe not.” Corporal Cargyle frowned down at the empty punch bowl in slightly inebriated surprise. A thought occurred to him. It was a good thought. Robert knew it was a good thought, because he’d thought of it. Yes. “Hey, Applejack…”

“Hmm?” the mare grunted, regarding her punch glass critically.

Cargyle secured the cup from his drinking companion and set it on the tray of a passing waiter. The smile widened on Robert’s face as he suggested, “What do you say we get out of here and I show you what a good time really is, Texas-style?”

Applejack matched the Guardsman grin for grin. “Why, partner, Ah think that sounds like a right old time. What’s the plan?”

Part 2

Corporal Cargyle shook his head to clear it. Whew. Some fast talking and the two letters of authorization had gotten Robert and Applejack this far, but driving under these circumstances might be a bit beyond the somewhat buzzed Guardsman. He turned back to Applejack to give her the bad news—

And nearly died of shock. Applejack was grunting in frustration, struggling out of her dress. She glanced up to see him staring and grated out, “Can ya give a pony a helping hoof, here?”

“Buh…” managed Cargyle as his mouth engaged before his brain got into gear. Finally the language centers of his brain sparked and he managed, “Is it normal for Equestrians to strip in front of people?”

“What? Ah almost never wear these things,” Applejack retorted, voice slightly muffled by fabric as she tugged viciously at the dress. Finally it came loose. Nude save for her hat, Applejack shook like a dog after a bath, relishing a freedom recently experienced solely in the privacy of the Equestrian-only quarters of the Interface Embassy. That was much better.

Applejack looked back to see the human’s slightly flushed face and scowled. “Now look, Ah’m pretty sure Ah can’t fit very well in this here ‘truck’ thing with this big dress on. Now are we goin’ or what?”

“We’re going.” Worries temporarily forgotten, Corporal Cargyle opened the door for Applejack and helped her into the back seat in the cab. Once she was buckled in as best as he could manage, he shucked his jacket gratefully, hopped in the driver’s seat, and started the engine. All right, they were on their way.

A few miles of road had scrolled into the rear view mirror before Applejack murmured, “Ah don’t know about this.”

“What’s the problem?” Robert risked a glance at the worried face of the mare in the back seat. If she’d had fingers, they would have been white as she tried to grip the upholstery.

The orange mare swallowed, somehow managing to look pale under her pelt. “Ah’ve never gone this fast before. Well, ‘cept for the train, but even that only went like this on little stretches of rail…”

“Oh?” Corporal Cargyle grinned and gunned the engine, adding another ten miles per hour to their already respectable speed. Applejack shrieked. One flailing hoof hit the clasp of the seatbelt and suddenly she was free in the cab. Feeling a bit guilty, Robert slowed down—gently. “Sorry about that.”

“Ah should buck ya right in the head fer that!” Applejack snarled, climbing back into her seat and glaring at the driver.

“Sorry, I said… Look, here. Hold onto your hat,” Cargyle suggested… and rolled down the window.

Hesitantly, Applejack peered out the now open window into the starry black gulf beyond. Pushing her hat firmly onto her head, she leaned out. The multi-mile-per-hour breeze buffeted her face. Now that she could actually feel how fast she was going, it didn’t seem so unnatural. The mare squinted against the wind as it whipped her mane back. Applejack’s ponytail trailed out behind her like the golden tail of a grinning orange comet and she whooped at the sudden exhilaration of speed. “Ah gotta get me one of these!”

* * *

Somehow the dark embassy truck made it safely into the neon-lit parking lot of the Grand Ol’ Oprey. Whining fiddle and thumping bass drifted through the air over the slightly muffled sounds of the usual Thursday night crowd. Corporal Cargyle put the vehicle in park and climbed out, making sure his uniform jacket was folded neatly on the seat beside him. He opened the door for his passenger. Pony and human alike looked up at the glowing monument to low-quality beer and country music. Applejack grinned and waved Robert on. “Well, don’t keep a mare waiting.”

What had looked like an amazingly good idea back at the Interface Embassy seemed somewhat less stellar as Corporal Cargyle led the way into the building. For a moment, the hubbub continued as normal. Robert sidled up to the bar and flagged down the bartender. “Two bottles of Shiner Bock!”

“Sure, that’ll be…” The bartender stopped and peered over the counter at Applejack. He shot Robert an annoyed glance. “Son, you can’t have pets in this bar.”

“She’s not a pet!” Cargyle snapped back.

“Ah’m Applejack,” the ambassador agreed helpfully. The bartender stared. He was joined in the stare by every patron still sober enough to see reasonably straight. Someone slapped the DJ on the back of the head, and the music stopped.

Everything was silent save for a few drunks too out of it to notice what was going on. Still weaving slightly on her hooves from the earlier infusion of punch, the orange mare smiled and added, “Pleased to meet y’all.”

“Applejack’s one of those Equestrian ambassadors you’ve heard about,” Corporal Cargyle explained hastily, raising his voice for the benefit of the crowd. “She’s here to have fun and see what the Confederacy is all about. So why don’t we all show her a good ol’ Texas time?!”

In the short pause that followed, Robert wasn’t sure whether the bar patrons even knew what he was talking about. Then someone in the back let out a loud rebel yell. A few others took up the sound and whooped, raising their glasses high. Soon the bar was full of cheering Texans and other Confederates as they welcomed the newcomers. Corporal Cargyle sighed in relief and paid for the beers.

“Not bad,” Applejack commented after a swig of her Shiner Bock. This met with general approval. Someone shouted for a round of Bock for the entire bar. More cheers erupted and the part was soon back in full swing.

“So, how do you like it so far?” Cargyle asked when things had quieted down a bit—which was to say, the roar wasn’t completely deafening.

Applejack took another pull at her beer and cocked her hat back, her smile practically lighting up the dimly lit room. “Better ‘n that embassy party by a country mile! Still not as good as a Pinkie party, though!”

“Well that sounds like a challenge!” Robert laughed and drank down a few more gulps of his bottle. “What’re we missing?”

“Games, fer one!” Applejack tipped her bottle up and found it empty. Someone pushed a fresh bottle into her hoof and she nodded in thanks. The bartender nodded back and kept making his rounds. He could only imagine how much business this was going to net him. Life was good.

Corporal Cargyle scratched his chin, deep in thought. “Well then, ever heard of beer pong?”

“Anope. How do ya play?” Applejack asked, struggling off her stool. “Ah warn ya, Ah’m quite th’ athlete back home…”

Several rounds later, the ‘away’ team admitted defeat as Applejack weaved slowly away from the table. “Ah think Ah’d better use the little filly’s room… Ah’ll be right back…”

The Guardsman raised his hands and whooped. “And that’s how it’s done!”

“All right, that was an okay game Ah guess,” Applejack admitted when she returned. “Next Ah guess would be the dancing…”

Robert pointed towards the dance floor. Music blared as the less drunken bar patrons stepped around the dance floor, stomping and moving in near-perfect unison. “Well, there’s the line dancing. But I don’t know if you’d be able to…”

“Ah can do anythin’Ah set mah mind to!” snapped Applejack, blushing at the thought of her recent defeat. The orange mare braced herself. She’d seen Pinkie do this often enough… and that green unicorn, what was her name again?

Corporal Cargyle just about dropped his beer when the four-legged ambassador suddenly reared up on her hind legs and became a biped. Swaying slightly, Applejack planted her forehooves at her flanks and said, “There! Ah think—woah!”

Fortunately the fast-moving Robert managed to catch Applejack before she fell backwards. He steadied her, chuckling a bit as she glared, the blush even hotter on her cheeks than before. “Careful there, Applejack.”

“Thanks… Now let go. Ah’m gonna do this.” Pulling away from the Guardsman’s helpful hands, Applejack hopped up on her rear hooves again. This time she managed an awkward step or two.

“Nice!” complimented the corporal as he grinned at his date—wait, what? Robert stared down at the beer. Maybe he’d had a few too many. Or not enough. Applejack leered triumphantly back at the worried human as she took a few more steps without falling over and managed to stay upright even after she stopped. She stomped her hoof experimentally.

Downing the rest of his brew, Cargyle waved to the DJ. “Hey, play us some Big and Rich!”

“Some what now?” asked Applejack, glancing around in confusion as the DJ slotted a new CD and turned up the speakers.

Robert pulled the newly bipedal pony out onto the dance floor where the other revelers cleared some space. “Just watch me and do what I do!”

“Well, all right…” Setting her jaw in determination, Applejack nodded to the Guardsman. Amazing. Who would have thought this diplomatic thing could actually be fun? Too bad the orange mare had had to come all the way to a different dimension to finally have a good date… wait. What? But before Applejack could review her own beer-fogged musings, the music started.

Dum-de-de-dum, de-de-dum-de-de-dum, de-daa-daaaaaa
Dum-de-de-dum, de-de-dum-de-de-dum, de-daa-daa-daa-daa-daaaaa!

Robert nodded to Applejack as he started to dance, his eyes twinkling. She had to try her hardest to keep up at first… and then the music took her.

Well I walk into the room
Passing out hundred dollar bills
And it kills and it thrills
Like the horns on my Silverado grill

Corporal Cargyle stepped forward and stomped. Applejack followed suit, swaying slightly as her hoof slammed into the planks of the dance floor. She nearly tumbled as she took a step back, but steadied while the music continued.

’Cause I saddle up my horse
And I ride into the city
I make a lot of noise
‘Cause the girls, they are so pretty

Looking quickly at his dance student, Robert chuckled to himself. With her tongue stuck out slightly in concentration, the orange mare was somehow managing to step through the moves with the best of them. Sure, even ‘the best of them’ was about four beers past sober at this point but hey! Who cared? This was fun!

Riding up an down Broadway
On my old stud Leroy an the girls say
‘Save a horse, ride a cowboy,” everybody say—

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy!” Applejack shouted, beaming as she stomped and turned. The bar crowd whooped, and the mare tipped her hat. It may have not been a Pinkie party, but this was definitely a close second. As the song finished, Cargyle slapped Applejack on the back and the two dissolved into gales of laughter when she nearly fell to all fours again. And that was the last thing either of them remembered for quite a while.

* * *

Consciousness returned slowly to Corporal Cargyle. The dull throbbing in Robert’s head suggested that perhaps, in the future, he might consider celebrating a bit less and getting to bed a bit earlier. Hmm… bed. When had he gotten to bed?

Wisely deciding that moving or opening his eyes should be delayed for the moment, Cargyle took stock of his situation. All right. He was definitely in a bed. He could feel the soft pillow beneath his head and the equally soft sheets wrapped around him. But that wasn’t the only thing he felt. Pressed against Robert’s body was a warm, soft shape. It shifted slightly and moaned in its sleep—in her sleep judging by the voice.

Moving carefully so as not to anger the hangover gods, Robert shifted his head a bit to one side. He got a nose full of long, straight, silken hair. It smelled vaguely fruity… Apples? Could be.

Whoever the girl was, she was lying across Corporal Cargyle’s out stretched right arm. He curled it in, pulling her warm flesh closer to his. The dozing woman purred happily in her sleep and yawned, starting to wake up. “Mmmm… Where am Ah?”

Despite the warmth of his bed and the probable severity of his hangover, Corporal Cargyle sat straight up in a single spastic limb-flailing movement as an icy chill rocketed down his spine. That voice. He knew that voice. It was—“Applejack?!”

Human and pony stared at each other, his bleary brown eyes meeting her equally groggy green ones. The mare’s eyes widened in shock and she leaped to her hooves—or tried to. The tangle of sheets arrested Applejack’s movement just as quickly as it had Robert’s. The corporal felt heat coming to his cheeks and saw the same blush rising on Applejack’s orange face.

Corporal Cargyle started at the wall for a few moments and collected his thoughts. Despite the pain of every word, the hung over Guardsman started reasoning aloud. “All right. This is a hotel room. I was obviously too drunk last night to drive safely back to the embassy. So we got a room.”

“Right,” Applejack agreed, contemplating her own section of wall. She switched for a moment to the ceiling. Maybe there would be an answer there… an answer that didn’t have a certain earth pony mare having a drunken fling with a male not even of the same species.

Continuing his assault on apparent reality with the sharp sword of logic, Corporal Cargyle continued, “Now, the hotel probably only had one room available right now. And there was only one bed and no couch. So… we both slept in the bed. On opposite sides.”

“Stands to reason.” Applejack replied, shooting a quick glance to the human. He kept his gaze resolutely on the wall.

“I was very drunk, so I probably took a shower last night and didn’t think to put my clothes back on before I got into bed. And then we somehow rolled into each other in the night and stayed that way. Nothing strange about it,” the Guardsman concluded triumphantly, finally allowing himself to look at his bedmate. The mare nodded encouragingly. The early morning sunlight glittered in her emerald eyes. Her mane and tail pooled around her like spun gold and—No! No. Bad brain. No thinking like that.

“That sounds jest about right. Um… Ah think Ah’ll go freshen up. Which way to the bathroom?” Applejack asked nervously. It was a silly question since the bathroom door was obviously a few paces to her right, but she had to say something to fill the awkward silence.

Making good her escape, Applejack hurried to the tub. She steadfastly ignored the fact that the towels looked untouched and the bar of soap sitting on the counter was still unused in its wrapper. She turned on the water and started concentrating furiously on anything else that might come to mind other than her current situation.

Carlyle dressed quickly, wracking his brains for any memories of the night before. He recalled dancing… and maybe buying another round of drinks..? Damn.

A knock at the door shot waves of pain through the corporal’s head and sent him lurching towards the door with his pants barely on. He managed to finish fastening the button and, still shirtless, opened the door a crack.

The shining, well-groomed face of Lieutenant Price peered back. “Good morning, Corporal.”

“Geeze! Good morning sir!” Remaining grogginess gone in a single searing flash of adrenaline, Corporal Cargyle leaped to attention. The door swung open and the embassy guard’s platoon leader stalked inside, resplendent in his crisp dress uniform.

Taking in the room in one sweeping glance, Lieutenant Price returned to his wayward Guardsman. His voice remained even, but his eyes were cold and hard as frozen diamonds. “Corporal Cargyle. I have a lot of questions for you. But I’m going to ask this one first. If you can’t answer this one, the others can wait.”

“Sir?” The color drained from Cargyle’s face as he contemplated his immediate future. It looked, for lack of a better word, short.

“Where. Is. The. Equestrian?” asked Lieutenant Price, biting off each word viciously as he glared at his subordinate.

“She’s…” Corporal Cargyle started. He hesitated. How exactly was he going to explain all this?

Up until now, the water in the bathroom had been running, the sound quickly fading into the general background. Now, however, the hiss of plumbing stopped as something climbed out of the bath. The sharp report of hooves on a hard floor rang out and Applejack trotted into view, mane still dripping and water pooling at her hooves as she looked at the newcomer. “Ah’m right here, Partner. And who’re you?”

Lieutenant Price looked at the pony, her flanks still glistening wet, and then back at the disheveled, half-dressed Guardsman. Corporal Cargyle could see the wheels turning in the lieutenant’s head. The wheels whirred. They stopped. They whirred again as the officer reached the same conclusion as before. Finally, the lieutenant shook his head and said, “We’ll discuss this some other time. Corporal, get dressed and get your ass out here on the double.”

“Yessir!” Corporal Cargyle hurried to comply.

The lieutenant turned to the dripping mare, his eyes not quite focusing on her. “Ambassador Applejack, I apologize on behalf of the Confederate Gulf States for anything that… idiot... may have done—”

“Robert ain’t an idiot,” protested Applejack. “And he didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to d—Uh, he didn’t do anything.”

At this point, Lieutenant Price’s brain started to shut down with the stress of holding back certain thought processes. One of his Soldiers hadn’t done… that, had he? “Right. Okay. Well, Miss, if you could just get yourself ready to head back to the embassy, we have a car waiting. I’ll be outside.”

“Thank ya kindly,” Applejack replied with a polite nod.

* * *

“Well,” Applejack said, “Ah think Ah can say that these humans are about as honest as anypony, and Ah can give mah ‘thumbs up’ to further relations.”

Applejack ignored the questioning looks for her odd turn of phrase and nodded to one of the many nondescript Texas Guardsmen in the room. He straightened and went a bit pale, but nodded back.

“Excellent. Excellent!” Ambassador Hudson clapped his hands joyfully, soon followed by all the other humans in the room. The six Equestrian diplomats smiled appreciatively. When the applause died down, the one-eyed ambassador continued, “I understand you six need to return to Equestria to report your findings to your government. Is there anything we can do for you, or do you need to leave right away?”

“Thank you very much Ambassador Hudson, but I think we’d better get going as soon as possible,” replied Twilight Sparkle. She consulted her note cards. “We’ve appreciated your hospitality, but it’s high time that the Princesses hear from us. Perhaps next time you might enjoy a stay on the Equestrian side of the Interface?”

“I’ll have my people talk to your ponies,” agreed the human ambassador. After the sort of laughter that such not-quite-jokes get in diplomatic circles, the semi-formal not-quite-ceremony came to a close.

With their bags already packed, the six ponies headed for the swirling blue mass of the Interface. Twilight Sparkle glanced sidelong at Applejack. The orange farm pony was smiling slightly, humming an unfamiliar tune. “So, Applejack, a bit for your thoughts?”

“Ah ride into the city…” Applejack sang softly. Her head jerked up as Twilight cleared her throat meaningfully. “Sorry, what was that, Twilight? Ah was thinkin’ of something else.”

“I said, ‘what’s on your mind?” prompted the lavender unicorn. “Why’d you make your decision so suddenly?”

Applejack shrugged as the mares stopped at the edge of the interface, waiting for Pinkie Pie to say a last few enthusiastic farewells and to extort a few promises to come to a ‘welcome to Equestria’ party. “Well, Ah finally found a human who didn’t talk too fancy.”

“Oh, is that why you stayed out all night with him?” Twilight joked playfully.

Reddening, Applejack turned back to stare into the cyan turbulence of the portal. “Ah don’t want to talk about it.”

With a raised eyebrow, Twilight made a mental note to look into it in a day or two. A moment later her train of thought ground to a halt as Pinkie Pie bounced up the ramp and practically bowled over the surprised unicorn. Pinkie grinned. “Hey Twilight! I was just making some plans with Ambassador Hudson and—”

“Are you ready to go, Pinkie?” Twilight interrupted. “Good. Then let’s go!”

The six mares advanced into the portal. The last thing Twilight Sparkle heard before the rushing energy took her home was Applejack, once again singing under her breath. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy…”

* * *

Corporal Robert E. L. Cargyle stood at parade rest in the hallway outside Ambassador Hudson’s office. Sergeant Aguilar strode by, pausing as he neared the waiting Guardsman. “Hey, Corporal Cargyle…”

Keeping his eyes straight ahead, Cargyle asked, “Yes, Sergeant?”

“You know, my family has a ranch,” commented Aguilar. “I know some very nice quarter horses…”

Corporal Cargyle didn’t respond. It was the only way to be sure. Sergeant Aguilar chuckled and continued on his way with Cargyle staring daggers at his retreating back. Finally, the door to the Ambassador’s office opened and a young, attractive secretary leaned out to regard the corporal. “The Ambassador will see you now.”

Ambassador Hudson was sitting behind his desk when Corporal Cargyle entered the room. Though bandages still covered one eye, the diplomat looked like the cat who’d gotten the canary. “Robert! Robert. Please sit down. What can I do for you?”

“Sir, you asked to see me,” grated the corporal.

“So I did, so I did.” Ambassador Hudson rustled some papers on his desk, trying to find the right stack. “I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done… and to make you an offer.”

“‘An offer,’” Cargyle echoed. “Sir, permission to speak frankly?”

“Of course.” The ambassador waved a hand and continued his distracted search. “I know I put them here somewhere…”

“Sir. You ruined my life. I did everything you asked. I talked with… with Applejack. Somehow, I don’t know how, she ended up making the decision we all wanted. That you wanted.” Corporal Cargyle massaged his forehead with one hand and took a deep breath. “And now everyone thinks I did it by…”

“By bedding what I gather is one of the finest examples of horseflesh Equestria has to offer, yes,” said Ambassador Hudson. He frowned when the Guardsman seemed to fold in on himself. “Oh, come now son. It’s not so bad as all that. Look at Captain Kirk!”

“That’s a fictional character, sir,” Corporal Cargyle pointed out with a shake of his head. He hastened to add, “Also, I didn’t actually do anything. We just went out and had a few drinks and danced a bit, is all.”

“Of course, of course,” the ambassador agreed with a perfectly diplomatic smile. “But actually, you’re right. Due to these… unfortunate rumors, your stay here at the embassy could probably become fairly unpleasant. But if I can just find—ah, there they are. I have a solution for you.”

Cargyle blinked. “…You do?”

“Take a look at these.” Ambassador Hudson passed over the long-sought papers and sat back, beaming.

The Guardsman looked over the sheets, reading them several times. “These are transfer papers? I think. I don’t recognize the unit code…”

“That’s because it’s a brand new unit. You, Corporal, are going to be our military attaché to the Equestrian Embassy. In, ah… ‘Canterlot.’” The diplomat held out his hand for the papers back, but Corporal Cargyle continued staring at them in disbelief.

“Sir… No. What kind of qualifications do—Why are you picking me for these things? I can’t do this.” The corporal knew his tone was making the question sound like a rephrased ‘why are you picking on me,’ but this was ridiculous. Had someone stuck a ‘volunteer me for extremely odd and humiliating duties’ sign on Robert’s back when he wasn’t looking?

The jovial ambassador was suddenly very serious. “All right. If it will make you accept, I’ll tell you. But this doesn’t leave this room, you understand? Strict secrecy. I want your word.”

“Yessir.” The sudden appeal to formality snapped Corporal Cargyle out of his spiral of self-pity. He sat up straight and waited as the ambassador marshaled his thoughts.

“The Confederate Gulf States has a contact in Equestria… A very important contact. You’re aware that the Equestrians have what we are for the time being referring to as ‘magic?’ Well. This contact in particular as a very odd variety of magic. We’re not sure what it can do. Neither is she. But this magic tells her that you, Corporal Cargyle, are the right man for this job. And I am bound by unbreakable oath to ensure that you get there and do the job and guarantee the future of our glorious nation.” Ambassador Hudson was on his feet now, his voice rising as he spoke. “So, Guardsman, you will take this mission and you will receive the thanks of a grateful nation for the successes that will follow. Or…”

“Or I can stay here and be Corporal Robert Cargyle the Pony fu—uh, I mean Pony fancier,” Robert sighed. The ambassador had him over a barrel. So why did he actually feel vaguely pleased with the prospect of being stationed in Equestria? What was wrong with him? “…All right, Sir. I’m your man.”

The ambassador rubbed his hands together, chortling. “Excellent. Oh, and a word of warning… Careful with those ponies. They may seem cute, but they’re deadly serious. Even the strangest ones.”

“You think so, sir?” Cargyle asked skeptically.

Ambassador Hudson’s hand rose unconsciously to rub his bandaged eye. Where had that mare even gotten a cupcake? Oh well, at least with Cargyle agreeing to his new orders the ambassador wasn’t breaking his promise. He shuddered at the thought. “I know so, Corporal. I know so.”

A/N: Fernin & Pinkie Pie together: “JUST AS PLANNED.”

Like I said, this was just a silly thing I came up with while watching people line dance and going ‘well that kind of looks like fun but I have no idea how to do it and am nowhere near drunk enough to try to learn on the fly and make a complete ass of myself.’ Fun times.