[FLUTTERRAPE] The Handyman and the Farmer


                                            "[...] AJ also hasn’t been the main focus of a story in what feels like an entire year."

                                            For you, Anon.

                                            ---


                                            "Do it carefully now, Applebloom; you don't want to damage the head of the screw or it'll make pulling it out a pain if you ever need to do it later."

                                            >Applebloom, her tongue pinched between her front teeth and her eyes narrowed, twists her hooves slowly.

                                            >The screwdriver between them turns, and the screw it's pressed against gradually sets into the hole you'd bored a moment prior.

                                            >Once all the way in, she draws back and waits for your approval.

                                            >From your squatted position next to her, you shake the chicken coop to test it, the little structure holding firm.

                                            >Smile at the young filly beside you and run a hand through her mane, scratching her head and finishing with a stroke to neaten it a bit.

                                            >She hums as you do so.

                                            "That's it! Well done. You can go and get yourself a drink now if you'd like, we're all finished here."

                                            >"Alright then!" the filly nods eagerly, "Thanks for showin' me, Anon!"

                                            >She scrambles to her hooves and hurries back to the farmhouse, a spring to her step.

                                            >You pack up your things into your toolbox, including the many screws Applebloom somehow managed to mangle during her failed attempts, and stand, dusting your knees off and admiring your handiwork in fixing the coops legs and hatch door.

                                            >"Y'all done with that now?" a friendly voice calls from behind you.

                                            >You turn to see Applejack watching you, the mare leaning over the perimeter fence surrounding the coop.

                                            >One of her hooves is absently playing with her mane, but stops when you give her a slight wave.

                                            "Just about; I showed Bloom how to use a screwdriver properly; not sure what she was trying to do before but it sure as hell wasn't productive."

                                            >Applejack chuckles, her eyes not leaving you.

                                            >"Well I'm glad she's finally taken a shinin' to you. Was worried she'd be scared'a workin' with you at first, but she seems to like you well enough."

                                            "Yeah," you say with a nod, "she was jittery this time last month, but she's more curious than she is scared, so that won out in the end. We're alright now; she's my partner in crime."

                                            >Gesture towards the house.

                                            "She's gone to get a drink, you up for one as well?"

                                            >"Uh, in a bit, I wanted to collar you for a sec'."

                                            >With a shrug you wander over to her, resting your arm on top of a tall post and putting your weight against it, looking down at the farmer expectedly.

                                            >"Just wanted to say thanks, again; you've really been helpin' us out with these little odd-jobs around the farm. Wouldn't think it, but even small stuff like that," she nods at the coop, "just builds up an' up, an' suddenly you've got a whole buncha nonsense to sort out an' no time to do it."

                                            >She gazes up at you, her emerald eyes locking onto yours.

                                            >"So... thanks. Again."

                                            "Think this is the..." you make an obvious show of counting on your fingers, "tenth time today, you've thanked me?"

                                            >She looks away bashfully, pulling her hat slightly down her forehead.

                                            >"Aw come on now, I'm just grateful, is all."

                                            "I appreciate the kind words, AJ, but it's nothing. I'm happy for the work and the bits, so as long as you have stuff like this for me to do, it's my pleasure to swing by and do it."

                                            >She chews her lip as you speak and nods her head to the side when you finish.

                                            >"Well, that an' seein' us all, right? Applebloom's warmin' up to you, Granny's not got a bad word to say so far, an' even Big Mac speaks highly of you. You're like a part of the family already!"

                                            "Hah, yes, it's nice to see Bloom, Granny, and Mac as well."

                                            >"And, uh, me, right?"

                                            "Yes, AJ," you smile down at her, "that includes you too."

                                            >"Heh, alright, just checkin'. So-oo, what was that about a drink you were gonna buy me?"

                                            "Buy nothing; I'm getting some water from your kitchen sink and you can't stop me; I'm parched."

                                            >She draws back as you promptly vault the low fence and set off walking up the hill towards the house, toolbox in hand.

                                            >The mare hurriedly draws up alongside you as you stroll.

                                            >"But maybe you -could- buy me-- us, a drink? Just sayin', might be nice?"

                                            "Eh, I'll think about it; got some skirtings to fit at the schoolhouse for Cheerilee later on today, and Rarity needs her water pressure looking at too at some point, but I think that might be a symptom of a larger problem so I have no idea how long that'll take."

                                            >"R-right, right, but if you find time?"

                                            >You look down at the pony.

                                            >She's staring right at you as she walks, eyes searching your face for an answer before you can give it.

                                            >You give her a warm smile.

                                            "As I said, I'll think about it."

                                            >"That a promise?"

                                            "That's a promise, AJ."

                                            >"Alright then, I'll hold you to that!"


                                            >The next morning, you're on your back looking up at Rarity.

                                            >She gazes down at you, a relieved smile on her lips.

                                            >"So it's all fine?"

                                            "For now. Try not to knock the pipes when you're taking bottles and such out from under here; if the seal bursts it'll be a nightmare to clean up if the water's running at the time."

                                            >You wriggle yourself forward, pulling your head the rest of the way out from the small bathroom cupboard and stand up, stretching and cracking your knuckles.

                                            >Rarity winces at the noise.

                                            "Ah, sorry, keep forgetting."

                                            >"If you're done with that, I suppose you'll want paying." she says with an exaggerated huff.

                                            "If you wouldn't mind, Rarity."

                                            >She rolls her eyes and looks away, shaking her head.

                                            >"Ugh, you're always doing this; why can't you just do it for free? Every other stallion in Ponyville does."

                                            >You watch her patiently.

                                            >She catches your eye, and a growing smirk from her matches your own grin.

                                            >Turning back to you, she giggles and pokes your leg with a hoof.

                                            >"I'll not be a moment, Anonymous."

                                            >She prances off, humming something to herself, and you climb to your feet before lumbering out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the front room of Carousel Boutique.

                                            >You wait around for a bit, absent-mindedly inspecting the dresses Rarity had painstakingly put together and trying not to get your greasy fingerprints on anything.

                                            >You're quite the contrast from the rest of the shop, with your mucky clothes and unshaven stubble.

                                            >A further reminder that you don't exactly fit in around here.

                                            >As you think about your next job among other things, you hear her trot down the steps behind you.

                                            >"And here we are!" a sizeable bag is thrust into your hands via levitation.

                                            "Woah, hey," your eyes widen, "this is too much--"

                                            >"Not at all," she cuts you off, "I still owe you for last time."

                                            "Now, last time really -was- free--"

                                            >"I'll not hear a word, Anonymous; take it! Take it and be -gone- with you, before I do something drastic, like attempt to use you as a model for my next creation, or would you prefer to be dressed in pink?"

                                            "Ever the thespian, Rarity; you missed your calling as an actress."

                                            >"You know," she says as you both wander to the door, "I'm actually not that good at it; I could never get over stage-fright as a filly, isn't that strange?"

                                            >The two of you exchange pleasantries as you approach the exit, and with a final one-handed hug at Rarity's behest, you stroll out the door.

                                            >As you step out into Ponyville, the mid-morning sun catching you through the canopies of a group of trees, you feel the weight of the bag hanging off your belt and think about what you could buy with its contents.

                                            >You're walking in the direction of the town square when you feel something nudge into your leg.

                                            >Glance down to see Applejack happily trotting along with you.

                                            >You didn't even hear her coming.

                                            >"Howdy, Anon! Nice mornin', ain't it?"

                                            "Oh, hey AJ; yeah, it's a crisp one. What are you up to, picking up supplies?"

                                            >"Eh," she bobbles her head from side to side, "bits 'n pieces, why what are you doin'?"

                                            "Was gonna swing by the hardware store and pick up another pack of screws; I didn't tell you this yesterday but Bloom went through a lot before she figured out how to actually use them."

                                            >"Heh, yeah, she's a wasteful one alright... B-but the hardware store! Yeah, yeah I was gonna go there, we can go together!" she watches you hopefully.

                                            >Shrug your shoulders and look forward again, nodding.

                                            "Sounds good to me, so how's your morning been so far?..."


                                            >You walk out of the shop, screws secure in your toolbox, as well as a few other tidbits you'd forgotten you needed.

                                            >As Applejack walks out after you, you realise she didn't actually buy anything.

                                            >Jerk your head back at the building behind you.

                                            "Hold up, do you wanna head back inside? You said you needed something, right?"

                                            >"Oh," she blinks, "uh, nah, I remembered I already had what I needed, heh."

                                            "Fair enough; I gotta swing by th--"

                                            >"So where are you goin' now?" she interjects.

                                            "...Gonna head to the schoolhouse; I need to finish off some of the work I started yesterday on the skirting boards."

                                            >"Alright! Need some help?"

                                            "Nah, I'll be fine, you can do whatever you needed to do and I'll catch you later--"

                                            >"Are you sure? I'm a good-hoof with a bit'a sandpaper!"

                                            "Hah, I'm sure you are, but it's honestly a one-man job, there's not much you'd be doing."

                                            >Applejack's expression falls a bit, but she recovers quickly and keeps smiling at you.

                                            >"Then I guess I'll just have to keep you company, don't want you feelin' lonely!" she finishes with a nod and takes off trotting ahead of you in the direction of the schoolhouse.

                                            >You frown after her, but keep your thoughts to yourself and follow on.


                                            >"So whatcha gonna be doin' after this?"

                                            >You pause, staring blankly at the board in front of you.

                                            >You're on all fours, though thankfully this time on a spongy mat you'd just bought that helps keep the pressure off your knees.

                                            >Hurts like hell to kneel on hard surfaces for too long.

                                            >"Uh, Anon?"

                                            "Oh, right," you resume smoothing the new boards down as you answer her, "I'm not sure, Applejack, just got some other stuff to do, I think." you speak in a distracted tone.

                                            >"Like what?"

                                            >You stop again and straighten up, still on your knees, and look at the pony.

                                            >She's perched on one of the little stools the children use, legs firmly on the floor, front hooves in her lap and maintaining an attentive, up-right posture.

                                            >She smiles broadly when you look at her.

                                            >Cheerilee entrusted you with the key to the schoolhouse for the weekend, so it's just Applejack and yourself in the classroom.

                                            "Just... stuff. Don't you have things to be getting on with as well? What's Mac up to, still working on that cellar door?"

                                            >"Oh, uh, he's fine," she says dismissively, "but I have some free time, so if you need any help just say so an' I'll be there!"

                                            "Well as I said before, this is all I'm doing here," you gesture around the room, "just got to do these three boards and that'll be it."

                                            >"Ain'tcha gonna paint 'em?"

                                            "I would, but I've not got any cream gloss; waiting for the guy at the hardware shop to order some more in. Not much else I can do with these until then--"

                                            >"Well shoot, if you needed paint you shoulda just said! We have some at the farm-- come on, let's go get it!"

                                            >She hops off her stool next to you and makes a move towards the door, waiting for you to join her with a big smile.

                                            "Ah, as I keep saying," you nod at the other unfinished boards, "I need to do these, but if you'd be willing to swing by the farm whilst I'm doing this, I should be done by the time you get back? I'd be grateful."

                                            >Her smile falters slightly.

                                            >"Oh, yeah, sure, I could do that for you. Sure you don't need--"

                                            "Applejack, please, I'm absolutely fine doing this by myself, don't worry so much."

                                            >"Not worryin', just thought you could use the company, at least."

                                            "I always like talking to you, AJ, but I also need to focus on my work; you can give a guy that, surely?"

                                            >She gives you a long look, then smiles again, reaching forward punching you in the arm with a front hoof.

                                            >"Shucks, you're just tryin' to get rid'a me. Alright Anon, I'll head on back to the farm and pick up the gloss, better still be here when I get back!"

                                            >She heads for the door as you say goodbye, and is quickly gone.

                                            >You watch the doorway for a few moments, thinking.

                                            >Then turn back to your task, shaking your head.


                                            >You wipe your forehead with a hand and flex your aching arm.

                                            >It feels dead from the repetitive scrubbing, but you've finished at last.

                                            >You'd say Cheerilee owes you for this, but you owe her for helping you get settled in when you first 'arrived' in Ponyville, so it sort of balances itself out.

                                            "We'll say we're even." you mutter to yourself.

                                            >"E'en abou' wha'?"

                                            >You nearly leap out of your skin and find Applejack smirking at you, a tin of paint hanging from her teeth by its handle.

                                            "How long have you been there?"

                                            >She sets down the tin so that she can talk properly, a gleam still in her eye.

                                            >"Long enough to hear you talkin' to yourself; what's the matter? Got lonely without me?"

                                            >The mare chuckles to herself and reaches into her saddlebag, pulling out a set of paint brushes.

                                            >"Brought these for you as well, thought you might need 'em."

                                            >You pluck one from the set and rub your thumb along the bristles with a hesitant smile.

                                            "Damn, these are perfect, AJ; great condition too, are these new?"

                                            >"Nope! Had 'em for years. Always gotta look after your brushes, Anon. You look after stuff and hopefully it'll look after you. Same applies to folks, as well," she says with a wink.

                                            "Well, I think that's all I'll need for now. Thanks a bunch for getting this for me, Applejack, I'll be sure to return it all when I'm done."

                                            >"Eh, don't worry about that, I'll take 'em back myself."

                                            >She sits down on one of the stools again, wearing a happy expression.

                                            >You're about to say something, but decide against it.

                                            >You chew your bottom lip and look at the paint brush in your hand instead, shaking it a bit and moving towards one of the boards, trying to stay focused on your work.

                                            "Right, well..."


                                            >It takes a bit longer than you would have liked, but eventually the skirting boards are done.

                                            >You'll have to track down Cheerilee at some point to let her know it's been sorted, and they should all be dry by the time the children are back next week.

                                            >Walking out of the classroom, you hold the door open for Applejack as she follows you out.

                                            >"Thanks, sugarcube," she smiles in passing.

                                            >She sucks in the fresh afternoon air and grins at you, those emerald eyes once more drinking in your features.

                                            >"So! What now?"

                                            >You purse your lips, then turn to her slowly.

                                            "Listen, Applejack, I appreciate your company, I really do, but I'm near-certain you've got things you'll need to be getting on with at the farm. Please don't think you need to accompany me everywhere, I'm fine on my own."

                                            >She narrows her eyes slightly and readjusts her hat, clearing her throat.

                                            >"I-I know that, an' sure, I have things that'll need doin', but I like spendin' time with you as well; just thought... you know," she shrugs.

                                            >You're both quiet for a moment, so you decide to nudge her leg with a foot.

                                            "Go on then," you smile at her, "I see where this is going."

                                            >She looks up at you, surprised.

                                            >"You... do?"

                                            "Sure; you're sticking around because you still want that drink, don't you?"

                                            >She blinks a few times, then shakily smiles.

                                            >"Oh, oh yeah! Yeah, you -do- owe me a drink!"

                                            "Well I wouldn't say I 'owe' you--"

                                            >"Pshh, now you're just mincin' words, come on, Anon; I wanna show you why Rainbow doesn't challenge me to drinkin' contests no more!"

                                            >She picks up her paint tin by its handle with her teeth and gleefully tugs on your leg with a hoof.

                                            "Now hold on, wait, you need to drop that off at the farm," you gesture to the tin, "and I still need to do a few odd-jobs. How about we set a time for seven later on this evening; I'll pick you up from the farm?"

                                            >She mulls this over, and finally nods.

                                            >"She'en. O'hay."

                                            "Okay. I'll see you then."

                                            >Applejack narrows her eyes at you, "'Ou be'er," then gives you a wink and happily trots off with her paint.

                                            >You're just glad to have some privacy again.


                                            >You find yourself in one of Ponyville's more seldom-visited bars.

                                            >A few patrons, but not so many as in the busier places near the centre of town.

                                            >Applejack is in agreement with you that it spoils the mood a bit when there's so much chatter around that you can't hear yourself think.

                                            >So here you sit in a quiet booth nestled in the far corner, sipping your drink.

                                            >Applejack has already drained three tankards of the stuff.

                                            >She giddily reaches over the table and pokes your arm again, gesturing with hoof at your drink.

                                            >"You sure you're alright with that? You ain't even touched it!"

                                            "I'd like to savour it, AJ; I had no idea you were coming out ready to get hammered."

                                            >"O' course! It's the weekend, ain't it? No point beatin' around the bush, I like a good drink and this is the only time I get to have one. 'Specially since the girls don't tend to come out with me anymore."

                                            "Oh? I thought you were all best friends."

                                            >She rolls her eyes.

                                            >"'Course we're -friends-, Anon, I just mean doin' this," she motions at the bar around her, "Fluttershy's a lightweight an' hates crowds, Rainbow refuses to drink with me 'cause I embarrassed her last time," she says that with pride, "Rarity don't like comin' to places like this, an' Twilight was never into this sorta thing."

                                            >You nod along with her as she speaks.

                                            "Okay, but what about Pinkie Pie?" you say a bit too loudly.

                                            >Applejack freezes, and a nearby patron who heard you glances over at you fearfully.

                                            >"Pinkie... Pinkie's uh, she's banned from drinkin', Anon. Mayor's orders. I-I think you can probably guess why."

                                            >You gaze down into your murky drink as you think about Pinkie on a sober day.

                                            >Then you imagine her drunk, and promptly inhale a deep breath through your nose.

                                            "Oookay, okay, yeah, right, got it."

                                            >Applejack relaxes a bit more.

                                            >"Yeah, so it's just us."

                                            "Big Mac?" you venture.

                                            >She scowls.

                                            >"Used to come with me all the time, but ever since he met Sugar Belle he's been off the stuff. Says it makes him loopy," she meanders off into vengeful grumbling, "stupid stallion thinks he's better than me..."

                                            "Hah, so it really is just us then."

                                            >She perks up and smiles at you.

                                            >"Eeyup. Nothin' wrong with that though, what with us bein' such close friends an' all."

                                            "Right. So-oo, how's life on the farm?" Applejack tenses up, "You preparing for winter yet or is that just sort of a year-round thing?"

                                            >Applejack doesn't respond, and watches you for a moment, seemingly lost in thought.

                                            >Then, she drains her fourth measure and sets it down on the table with a firm knock.

                                            >She pulls her ponytail over her shoulder and plays with it a bit, avoiding your face for a few seconds, her eyes wandering all over the table.

                                            >Eventually, she looks at you and offers a small smile.

                                            >"Life's, uh, good. It's good. But, uh..."

                                            >The mare trails off, and you cock an eyebrow, waiting for her to speak.

                                            >"Listen, Anon," Applejack shuffles around in the booth until she's sat next to you, her thigh pressed against yours, "we're um, real good friends, right?"

                                            "Sure; wouldn't be drinking together if we weren't," you give her your most confident smile, "I don't let just anyone bully me into taking them out to a bar."

                                            >She laughs softly, her front hooves resting on her lap.

                                            >"It's just that, um, Granny Smith has been pesterin' and pesterin' lately..."

                                            "What, about the weather vane? I told her we're waiting to hear back--"

                                            >"Not that, Anon; -Celestia- no, not that."

                                            >She nudges a bit closer, peering up at you with uncertainty.

                                            >"With Mac goin' all sweet on Sugar Belle, and Cousin Braeburn gettin' hitched to that waitress a month back, Granny's been on my back about, um, you know, findin' someone for myself."

                                            "Yeah? You found anyone?" you lean down closer with a cheeky grin, "Need some 'guy-advice'?"

                                            >"Anon... c'mon now." her eyes bore into yours, pleading silently.

                                            >As you hold her look, you think on how she's been acting lately, and draw back a bit.

                                            "...Oh."

                                            >"I-I just think, what with you knowin' all about how things work around the farm, a-an' how the others have taken a likin' to you... well, you know, it might be... nice."

                                            "I'm not really sure what to say, AJ."

                                            >You give her a wry smile.

                                            "You sure this isn't just the booze talking?"

                                            >She shakes her head firmly.

                                            >"Don't you be insultin' me now, Anon; I once drank Rainbow under this very table," she pats it with a hoof, "Twelve rounds and I felt nothin'."

                                            >She draws herself up, her posture as straight as she can make it, "So come on, waddya say?"

                                            "Well I'll say it's not how I expected this evening to go."

                                            >"But would you like to? Y'know, live with me on the farm?"

                                            "Hah, one thing at a time, Applejack, wouldn't we need to get to know each other first? Take our time a bit?"

                                            >"We already know each other plenty, so it's not like much would change."

                                            "You're making this sound more like a business proposal than a relationship."

                                            >She averts her gaze and stares past you, a wounded look about her.

                                            >"Granny said I wasn't good at this..."

                                            >You wait for her to continue, and once she plucks up the courage she faces you again, though she trembles slightly as she speaks.

                                            >"I like you a lot, Anon; a whole lot," she swallows, "Didn't think much'a you at first, if I'm honest, but you grew on me."

                                            >She chuckles a bit, "I remember when you first crawled out of Fluttershy's floor when we were all there an' I hit you with a fryin' pan."

                                            >You stroke the back of your head at the memory and glance off to the side.

                                            >One would assume that coming to Equestria would mean being deposited amidst a pleasant grassy knoll on a clear day wearing a full suit and tie.

                                            >Instead, you had to crawl out from under Fluttershy's living room floorboards covered in worms and dirt, half-naked and groaning in pain.

                                            >She still won't look at you properly, Fluttershy.

                                            >Applejack certainly did; she wasted no time clobbering you with a pan whilst Rainbow Dash started screaming about how "this is just like in that zombie movie we saw!".

                                            >Looking down at her again, Applejack is playing with her mane once more, not looking at you and instead staring into space.

                                            >"You've always been nice to us all though, despite that; real neighbourly. You know your stuff too, which is swell. Hard to find a stallion around here that knows his way around a farm like you do."

                                            "Well, briefly grew up on one, like I've said in the past."

                                            >"Right. But I dunno, I just like bein' around you."

                                            >She looks up at you again, fondly.

                                            >"You make me feel calm."

                                            "You? You're always calm."

                                            >"Not always," she says with a shrug, "it gets hard tryin' to balance everythin', but you make it easier to think. Just feels natural talkin' to you about stuff an' gettin' things done."

                                            >She nods again, "Just got attached, I s'pose."

                                            >Her eyes dart about your face.

                                            >"Don't look half bad either, dunno how that came about, what with you lookin' so weird an' all."

                                            "Watch it, mare," you say sternly.

                                            >She giggles, her voice cracking in places.

                                            >"I said it grew on me! You're alright now, even if you were hard to look at in the beginnin'. Then again that might have had somethin' to do with you crawlin' out them floorboards. Sticks in the mind, if you can imagine."

                                            "Mhm."

                                            >"So... waddya think?", she regards you patiently.

                                            >You check your watch before tutting.

                                            "I think we'll need a few more drinks before we can reach a decision about that."


                                            >You stumble out of the bar clutching a struggling Applejack in your arms.

                                            >She waggles her hooves back towards the door desperately.

                                            >"N-no! I weren't done!"

                                            "You are now, little lady."

                                            >"I ain't! Let me down, I can handle like, a dozen more at least!"

                                            "No way, no how; you vomited all over the bartender."

                                            >"Nu uh."

                                            "Yes uh; you're going home and that's final."

                                            >She stops trying to crawl over your shoulder to the bar and leans back, scowling at you as you carry her.

                                            >"You an' me are gonna come to blows if you don't let me down."

                                            "If I put you on the floor will you run back into the bar?"

                                            >"Nnnye-ope."

                                            "Try again."

                                            >"Nu uh."

                                            "Alright, but if you move one step closer I'm dragging you back by your tail."

                                            >Crouching down, you set her on the ground.

                                            >Her legs wobble a bit, but she looks at you defiantly.

                                            >Then moves towards the bar.

                                            >Sadly, the self-proclaimed 'iron pony' drunkenly trips over her own hooves and collapses forward, cursing.

                                            >With a sigh you pick her back up and hoist her into a better carrying position.

                                            >One hand on her back, the other on her rump.

                                            >She snorts and rests her head on your shoulder, sadly watching the bar get smaller as you stride into the dark.

                                            >"I'm sure gonna miss it..."

                                            "The bar's still gonna be there tomorrow, AJ."

                                            >"Not the bar, my hat. It's still in there."

                                            "Oh. Well it'll be there tomorrow as well."

                                            >"Sure?"

                                            "Probably; most people know not to mess with your hat."

                                            >She nods firmly, "Ain't that the truth."

                                            >A few minutes pass in silence as you walk under the stars back to Sweet Apple Acres.

                                            >"Hey Anon?"

                                            "Hm?"

                                            >"Didja think of an answer yet?"

                                            "For the bar trivia? I think it was Fleetfoot."

                                            >"Noo, I mean the other thing."

                                            "Oh, that."

                                            >"Yeah. If you don't answer I'm gonna..." her face scrunches up, "boy, I'm gonna do it."

                                            "Do what?"

                                            >"Somethin'. An' it's gonna be real bad, just you wait."

                                            "You gonna throw up on me? You'd better not or I actually will drag you home by your tail."

                                            >She snorts and rests her head back on your shoulder with a huge grin.

                                            >"Huh huhhh, you're funny..."

                                            "Yup. Eleven, by the way."

                                            >"Wazzat?"

                                            "You got to eleven drinks before you had to-- well, until -I- tapped you out."

                                            >"More drinks than anyone else, that's for sure."

                                            "It was just us tonight, AJ, and there wasn't a contest."

                                            >"Life's a contest, Anon, Rainbow told me that. Hey! Rainbow told me something crazy the other day..."

                                            >She babbles on about things Dash had likely been making up earlier that week.

                                            >You trudge down the quiet paths of a moonlit Ponyville as she speaks, her voice incessant, but never grating.

                                            >It was always nice to listen to, actually, you think to yourself.

                                            >Eventually, you pass a signpost for Sweet Apple Acres.

                                            >You look around, then at the pony still talking away.

                                            "We're at the farm; you okay to walk?"

                                            >Applejack cranes her neck back and squints through the dark at the farmhouse farther up the hill.

                                            >"Uhh, yeah! I'll be good."

                                            >You set her down again, and she takes one gleeful look at you before scampering off in the wrong direction.

                                            "Oh for... AJ, come on, it's late."

                                            >You trail the mare, who giggles as she leads you around the farmyard, stumbling for much of the way, but still making progress.

                                            >You drag your feet after her, not all that enthused about running when you've had a few drinks yourself.

                                            >Eventually you find her sat on a stone foundation under one of the grain silos.

                                            >She watches you appear from behind it and pats the stone next to her, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

                                            >You grunt and slump beside her.

                                            >The silo being near the top of the slope, there's a surprisingly nice view of the orchards from where you are.

                                            >The trees are bathed in an ethereal silver from the light of the full moon, and the silence save for the gentle rusting of leaves in the wind gives the scene a tranquil feeling.

                                            >Applejack shuffles over to you and leans against your arm.

                                            >"Lovely night, ain't it?"

                                            >You refrain from answering, and she takes a while before she ventures her question.

                                            >"So, you got an answer yet?"

                                            >You remain silent.

                                            >"Anon," she turns and nudges your arm aside with her head, further nestling herself against your body, "please."

                                            >It takes you a few seconds to find your voice.

                                            "I'm sorry, Applejack." you quietly murmur.

                                            >The mare doesn't respond for a moment, but you feel her nod against you.

                                            >"I get it."

                                            "I can't really commit to something like that if my heart's not in it, you know? It wouldn't be... honest."

                                            >She sniffs, and you feel a dampness on your shirt.

                                            >Against your better judgement, you wrap your arm around her and pull her closer to you, rubbing her coat with a hand.

                                            >"Guess Granny was wrong then."

                                            "About what?"

                                            >A shuddering sigh, "She thought you'd love to stay here."

                                            "I enjoy coming here, Applejack, but you're asking me to live with you."

                                            >"D'you think you might change your mind if we spent more time together?"

                                            "We already hang out enough, Applejack."

                                            >"Not... as much as I want."

                                            "AJ--"

                                            >"Landsakes, Anon, I just want someone to hold at night, alright?"

                                            >You stare forlornly at the orchard as her thoughts pour forth, her voice catching in her throat occasionally.

                                            >"Night after night after night, but no one's ever there. Doesn't have to be you, could be any stallion, but no one ever makes a move. I wait, an' I wait, an' I'm polite, an' I'm as friendly as can be, an' I remember my manners just like Ma an' Pa taught me, but all the stallions go for other mares, an' Mac gets Sugar Belle, an' even Applebloom's makin' goo-goo eyes at colts these days."

                                            >She sniffs again, wiping her eyes with a foreleg before continuing.

                                            >"Last time a guy showed any interest it turned into a whole thing with Rarity. I brushed him off 'cause he was a darned weirdo, but lookin' back I wonder if I made a mistake. He was the only guy to ever actually make a move."

                                            >You squeeze her as she trembles.

                                            >"But he's long-gone now, an' I'm left here just... drinkin' myself stupid and talkin' to an alien."

                                            >You watch a bird flutter out of an apple tree and into the night, but it does little to distract you from the thoughts racing through your mind.

                                            >Applejack lets out a soft laugh.

                                            >"D'you ever wonder when life is supposed to get good? Same routine for me, day in an' day out, an' all the time I'm thinkin' 'one day, Applejack; one day you'll wake up an' have foals, an' a husband, an' everythin' will have turned out okay'."

                                            >A long pause, then a weary sigh.

                                            >"Doesn't seem to be happenin' any time soon, though. Can't even get the one guy I've ever actually liked to give me a shot."

                                            >As she speaks, you ponder her situation, and reflect on your own.

                                            >There's no denying that you're a black sheep around here; ponies are cordial, even playful at times; you get invited to parties, and people seem to enjoy having you around, but it never goes any further.

                                            >After the initial excitement of your arrival wore off, and you settled into your apparent and very much unexpected role as Ponyville's premier handyman, the days had indeed started to blur together.

                                            >With the routine of life setting in, you are confronted with the reality that time will march ever on; you'll only get older, and sooner or later you'll end up looking a bit like the old ponies that hobble about the place.

                                            >When you're that old, who will be looking after you?

                                            >You think on Applejack's words about her missed opportunity.

                                            >She dismissed him at the time, then came to regret it later.

                                            >Are you in the same position right now?

                                            >The thought unsettles you, even as you find yourself enjoying the comfortable warmth of Applejack's body leant against your own.

                                            >You carefully turn your head to look down at her.

                                            >She's staring ahead at the orchard the same way you were, and a few loose strands of blonde hair drift along with the night-time breeze.

                                            >A troubling question echoes around your mind.

                                            >Will she become your missed opportunity?

                                            >You become aware once more of your hand clasped at her side; of your arm pulling her closer to you.

                                            >The feeling of her fur beneath your fingers, the sound of her uncertain breathing.

                                            >You wet your dry lips and speak gingerly.

                                            "We could... see what happens."

                                            >She raises her head to look at you, her expression steady.

                                            "You know, just for a little while. See where it takes us."

                                            >The mare slowly smiles.

                                            >"No kiddin'?"

                                            "Nah," you hold her gaze for a moment, "not really got much time to kid around, have we?"

                                            >"Heh, true."

                                            >You both break away and go back to watching the orchard.

                                            >Without looking at you, she places a hoof on your leg, and you gently clasp it with your other hand, rubbing your thumb across it.

                                            >"Kids might be an issue," her voice sounds calmer now.

                                            >You consider this, then nod.

                                            "We'll worry about that later," you state finally.

                                            >You're not looking at her, but you can tell that she's still smiling.

                                            >Her breathing no longer trembles.

                                            >"We ain't got a guest room."

                                            >You faintly smile.

                                            "I'm sure a solution will present itself, Miss Applejack."

                                            >The two of you fall silent as you look out across the orchard, the blanket of pale moonlight giving it a dream-like quality.

                                            >It really is a lovely night.


                                            The End.