Archive of Our Own

Something was outside Applejack’s window.

She shot up from bed at the thought, straining her ears to hear it again. It was quiet for a moment, with the only sounds being the crickets and cicadas outside, but sure enough, she heard it again. A muffled thump and groan pierced through the silence. 

Maybe it was an animal.

Applejack had chased her fair share of raccoons off her windowsill, but she’d never heard one so large, or with a groan that sounded so human-like. Slowly, she got off her bed, all drowsiness gone. There was another thump, this one louder than the previous and accompanied with pissed off muttering that made her freeze.

That was a person.

There was a person outside her window. Her bedroom window, on the first floor, in the middle of the night, on a farm that sat far enough off the main road that nobody ended up here by accident. 

Whoever was out there had come here deliberately and was, now that she listened again, climbing. She could hear the scrape of shoes against the exterior wall, the grunt of effort, the creak of the old porch roof taking someone’s weight.

Without a sound, she stalked to her closet and grabbed the bat Granny insisted she keep for self-defense. The stick felt weird in her hands as she tried to figure out how to grip it. In all the years she’d had it she never thought she’d ever need to use it.

Her heart picked up as the sounds got progressively louder. Slowly, she inched towards the window, drawing back the curtains and peeking out. Sure enough there was a human figure in a black hoodie on her porch roof, slowly inching towards her. 

Applejack pressed herself flat against the wall beside the window, bat gripped in both hands, and waited.

The figure was right there, silhouetted against the dark, close enough that she could hear the soft scrape of fingers against the outer frame of the window. She watched the shadow shift across the thin curtain. Once they moved past the glass, she shoved the window open and spun. Bat raised and ready, she was prepared to knock them all the way into next week when the figure sneezed.

Applejack froze mid-swing. 

She knew that sneeze. She’d heard that sneeze at sleepovers and in class and once very memorably in the middle of a movie theatre during a quiet scene. She lowered the bat exactly one inch, grabbed a fistful of hood, and yanked it backwards.

The culprit’s face came level with hers, caught completely off guard, eyes wide and rainbow colored hair half covering her face from the sudden jerk. She clung to the windowsill with both hands, a fistful of crumpled cash clamped between her lips.

“Rainbow Dash?”

The girl shrugged with a muffled sound, and there was a moment of silence when they just stared at each other.

Rainbow removed the bills from her mouth, now clinging with only a hand. “So, uh, you gonna let me in or…?”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Only after you tell me what you’re doin’ at my window in the middle of the night.”

The athlete grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, it’s kind of a long story,” she perked suddenly. “Has Pinkie been here?”

“Pinkie? What in–”

“I promise I’ll tell you everything if you let me in. My arm’s kinda cramping over here.”

Applejack pretended to mull it over, but caved. “Fine.”

Rainbow let out a sigh when she was finally inside, quickly taking off her hoodie and revealing a worn wonderbolts jersey. Applejack was suddenly conscious of her oversize flannel shirt and bed hair. Surprisingly, Dash didn't even tease her which only upped her suspicion of the entire situation.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “So..?”

The sheepish grin was back. “Promise you won’t get mad.”

“Rainbow–”

"Okay okay." She held up both hands, cash still crumpled in one fist. "So you know how cider season starts tomorrow."

Applejack stared at her.

“And you know how every year Pinkie always gets there first and gets the last of it before I even get any–”

“Because you show up at noon.”

“Anyway. This year we made a bet. Whoever gets cider first wins. And I am not losing to Pinkie Pie, AJ, I cannot do it,” she rambled. “And also Lightning was there and she bet against me, so now I have to prove them both wrong–”

“So your solution was to climb my roof at 1am.”

“I brought exact change.” She held up the cash like that settled it.

And the worst part was, looking at her standing there with crumpled bills in her fist and that completely unrepentant grin, for Applejack it kind of did. 

That was the thing about Rainbow. She had a gift for presenting her with the most ridiculous possible situation and then looking at her like it was perfectly reasonable. And then somewhere between the absurdity of it and the puppy dog eyes, Applejack’s better judgment just quietly packed its bags and left. 

It was a flaw, but she was working on it.

“No.”

“Come on Applejack, please.”

The cowgirl blinked. 

Rainbow rarely begged so fast. Usually she held out longer, tried to argue her case on merit first before resorting to tactics.

Applejack sucked in her cheeks, her resolve flickering.

The athlete saw it immediately, and Applejack felt the puppy dog eyes before they came. She narrowed her eyes in warning. “Rainbow.”

Dash’s earnest grin softened into a pout. Her eyes went wide and she clasped her hands together and Applejack felt herself fold before her next words were even out.

“Come onn. I’ll do anything.”

It had been like this since they were kids. Rainbow would show up with some half-baked scheme and Applejack would say no and mean it, right up until Rainbow turned those eyes on her.

Applejack was so going to regret this.

“Fine,” she relented. “But you owe me one.”

Rainbow’s face split into a grin so bright it was almost worth it. She opened her mouth.

“Not a word,” Applejack said, slipping her slippers on. “And do exactly what I tell you to.”

Rainbow was surprisingly good at staying quiet when she had to, and they managed to get the keys to the barn without a hitch. Only when they were safely outside did Applejack finally let herself think about the last fifteen minutes.

“So,” she started, after shutting the door behind them. “How did you get to my window?”

“Drainpipe to the porch roof,”  Rainbow said, like this was obvious. “Same way as always.”

“Same way as–” Applejack had to pause to process that one. “You've done this before?”

“I mean, not recently. Keep moving, we're on a mission–”

“There were so many ways that could've gone wrong.” She fell back into step, shaking her head. 

“Well, it worked didn’t it?”

Applejack gave her a deadpan glance. “What if I hadn't woken up?”

“Pfft. You’re, like, the lightest sleeper on Earth.”

“I almost bashed your head in!”

“But you didn't.” Rainbow grinned. “Because you knew my sneeze.”

Applejack opened her mouth. Closed it. That was unfortunately true and she wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of acknowledging it.

“What if it had been someone else’s window?”

Rainbow gasped way too loud for the quiet. “I know which window is yours, AJ. Have some faith–”

“Shh, we’re here.”

The shadow of the barn loomed over them and Applejack moved forward, spinning the bunch of keys in her hand. The door was chained shut with at least five different padlocks and even Applejack wasn’t exactly sure which key was for what.

“Why’re there so many locks?” Rainbow whispered.

“Cider season,” Applejack whispered back, trying the first key.

“This is insane.”

“I think we have pretty different definitions of insane.” Second key. Wrong one.

“Besides you’d be surprised what people could try.”

The third key clicked and Applejack worked through two of the padlocks before hitting another snag. The crickets filled the silence. A moth bumped softly against the barn door and bounced away. Rainbow hovered at her shoulder, practically vibrating, and Applejack could feel her trying very hard not to comment on the speed.

“You need a light?”

“I need you,” Applejack bit out, “to be quiet.”

“But–”

Applejack paused with a key halfway in a lock and looked up at the dark rafters of the barn doorway and thought about her warm bed and her perfectly reasonable night that had been interrupted by a drainpipe and a sneeze and those stupid eyes. She thought about her life, and the choices that had led her here, standing in a field in her pajamas at 1am fumbling with padlocks for this girl.

Rainbow grumbled behind her. “Bossy much? Sheesh.”

Applejack muttered under her breath when the key hit another snag. “I can’t believe I’m riskin’ my neck for this brat–”

“Technically, you’re not risking anything, Granny’s a deep sleeper–”

Finally, the padlock opened with a groan, and Rainbow’s mouth quickly snapped shut as Applejack undid the chain and pushed open the barn wide enough for them to slip in. The sweet smell hit immediately and they relished in it, quickly catching sight of rows of bottles catching the thin moonlight coming through the high windows.

Rainbow made a sound that was almost reverent. “Yeah,dis I see why Pinkie always wins.”

With a chuckle, Applejack clicked on the small flashlight on one of the racks and swept it across the shelves. “How many you want?”

“How many can I get for…” there was rustling as Rainbow counted her cash, “forty bucks?”

The transaction was quick. Applejack counted out the bottles, Rainbow counted out the cash, and nobody haggled because Rainbow had actually brought exact change and Applejack privately found that funnier than she let on.

She relocked everything behind them, all five padlocks, while Rainbow stood holding two paper bags of cider bottles and looking pleased with herself in the moonlight.

“Come on,” Applejack said, not stopping.

“Where are we–”

“You ain’t walking to your bike alone in the dark with glass bottles.”

It wasn't an offer, and Rainbow didn't argue. She let AJ relieve her of a bag and fall into step beside her.

They didn't talk much on the way. Rainbow was mostly looking around with the kind of awed look that Applejack had long learned was reserved for the farm. Their footsteps on the gravel path were the loudest thing for miles. She could see the outline of Rainbow’s motorcycle parked just off the road where the dirt met the grass, which meant she'd pushed it part of the way so nobody heard it coming.

“Thanks AJ,” Rainbow said, after the bottles were loaded in the top box and Applejack glanced at her sideways. Dash was looking at her with that one expression she’d never been able to interpret. “I really owe you one.”

“Don't mention it.”

“Really though,” she pressed. “I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

✦ 

Don’t get her wrong, Applejack loved Rainbow Dash. She’s her best friend, her favorite person and then some. It didn’t mean she was immune to Applejack’s wrath, but she was good at evading it more than half the time.

Today, though, was one of the those times Applejack wished she was near so she could fucking throttle her.

It had started, as most of her problems did, with a choice she'd made of her own free will that she was now deeply regretting. Specifically, the choice to sit next to Rainbow Dash in Algebra II.

In her defense, it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Rainbow was easy to be around, even in class. She asked dumb questions that Applejack secretly also wanted to ask, she drew in the margins of her notes and somehow still retained everything, and she had a habit of muttering commentary under her breath that had gotten Applejack in trouble for laughing more than once. It made a fifty minute class go by fast.

The worst part was she couldn't even blame Rainbow entirely. She had been there when Miss Harshwhinney paired them up. She had fully intended to put the due date in her calendar the moment class ended. She had her phone out and everything.

And then Rainbow had leaned over and said something stupid along the lines of guess we’re partners now and Applejack had been busy trying not to fucking blue-screen at her tone that she completely forgot why she had her phone out in the first place.

Now, it was almost nine pm and the assignment was due tomorrow. She had opened her notebook twenty minutes ago, written the date and the title, and had not written a single thing since.

She stared at problem one.

Problem one stared back.

Normally she wouldn't have a problem handling the homework. It wasn’t like she was bad at math, okay. She could do the practical shit like finding the profit margin for the farm or finding how many miles she could go with a full tank of gas. What she couldn’t figure out was what the hell she’d ever need a polynomial for.

Frankly, she missed when math was just numbers.

She considered texting Dash, but the girl was notorious for not opening her texts at the most urgent times, or even worse, opening the text but forgetting to respond. Applejack had learned her lesson more than enough times, so she called.

She picked up on the first ring. 

“Hey, cowgirl~”

“Dash, we have homework.”

There was a sound in the background. “See I was wondering when you’d call about that–”

Applejack’s eye twitched. “You knew?”

“Not until a few minutes ago,” Dash piped cheerfully like that helped Applejack’s anxiety any. “How’s it going?”

Oh, Applejack is gonna kill this girl and she will enjoy it. “Rainbow, the homework is due tomorrow.”

“I know,” Dash chuckled like this was amusing, “but I'm one step ahead of ya.”

She took a deep breath. “And what in the hell does that mean?”

“It means you should let me in.”

As soon as those words were uttered, a sharp rap came from her windowsill. Applejack stared at her curtains in disbelief for a moment, before walking over and pulling them back. There was Rainbow Dash, crouched on her porch roof with her phone in one hand and gravel in the other. She had her backpack on and grinned like she'd been there for a while.

“Yer jokin’,” she said mostly to herself than to the phone.

Rainbow heard her anyway. “I was in the neighborhood.”

Applejack raised a brow. “There ain’t no neighbourhood.”

Rainbow pretended not to hear this, motioning to the window. “You gonna let me in or are we doing homework through the glass.”

In any other circumstance, Applejack would’ve gladly left her on the porch roof, but this was her math grade was on the line here. She opened the window with a scowl, letting Dash haul herself in.

“You know the door exists,” Applejack said, watching her drop onto the floor and shrug her backpack off. “Everyone's still up.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow looked at her like she'd said something genuinely baffling, “but where’s the fun in that?”

Honestly, Applejack didn’t know why this surprised her. 

“Okay,” Rainbow said, dropping onto the edge of Applejack’s bed and unzipping her bag. “How far did you get?”

“Problem one.”

“Same,” Rainbow said with a chuckle. She scooted back against the headboard and patted the space beside her.. “Come on. I'll walk you through the first one and then you'll get it, it’s not that bad.”

Applejack pulled her chair over instead, on principle.

Rainbow didn't comment on that either, just uncapped her pen and looked at the worksheet. 

“Okay so the thing about polynomials is–”

“Don't say it’s easy.”

“It’s not easy it’s just,” she paused, and when she failed to come up with a better word, she grinned, “okay it's a little easy.”

To her credit, Rainbow was actually good at explaining it. Not in a teacher way, more in a this-is-how-it makes-sense-in-my-brain way, which somehow translated better than anything Miss Harshwhinney had said in the past week. Twenty minutes in, Applejack got the gist of it 

“Okay,” Rainbow said, looking at the rest of the set. “Twenty questions. Split it?”

“Split it.”

They settled into a companionable quiet after that. Applejack worked steadily through her half, double checking each step the way she did everything.

Rainbow on the other hand, was very distracting. 

First it was the pen. It was one of those click-y kinds, and she kept on abusing the fact causing a click noise every five seconds. Then chewing the end of it, which Applejack clocked in her peripheral vision and chose not to comment on.

Then she shifted position, sitting cross legged, then with her legs stretched out, then flat on her back on the bed staring at the ceiling with her worksheet held above her face.

“You’re gonna drop that on yourself,” Applejack said without looking up.

“I won’t.”

“Well stop fidgetin’, it’s distractin’.”

She nearly did end up dropping the paper on herself. Applejack heard the scramble and said nothing.

Rainbow rolled onto her stomach, kicked her feet up behind her, and somehow in this position began working through problems at a speed that was frankly offensive. 

There was ten minutes of genuine silence, which meant Rainbow was actually concentrating. Applejack used it gratefully, working through her problems steadily, checking her work, correcting her mistakes.

“Done.”

Applejack looked up. Rainbow was lying there with her worksheet and notebook set aside, chin propped in both hands, watching her with barely concealed smugness.

Applejack tried not to scowl. “Already?”

“Already.” She tilted her head. “How many you got left?”

“Four.”

“Need help?”

“No.”

“You sure? Because I could–”

“Yes I’m sure,” and because Applejack was feeling particularly petty tonight, she gave a hefty pause before muttering under her breath but loud enough for Rainbow to hear. “Egghead.”

Rainbow’s reaction was immensely satisfying. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Did you just– I am not an egghead, Applejack–”

“Finished your algebra homework on a Thursday night and you're proud of it.” She turned the page. “Egghead.”

“That’s not– you take that back right now–”

“Nope.”

“Applejack.”

The cowgirl held back a chuckle at the pout in her voice but didn’t do as she asked. There was a huff of indignation but Rainbow didn’t say anything else. 

That was how Applejack knew she was probably in trouble.

She worked on the rest of the sheet in silence, occasionally sneaking glances to the bed where Rainbow lay unmoving. The athlete wasn’t asleep though, instead she stared at the ceiling wordlessly with her plotting face.

Yeah, Applejack was definitely in trouble.

She was on the final question when Rainbow spoke.

“So,” she said, in a patronizing voice. “There’s this game I discovered the other day.”

Applejack kept writing. “Mm.”

“Racing game. Pretty fun.” A pause. “Pretty easy, actually.”

“Mm.”

“Probably too easy,” Rainbow mused. “It’s gotten kind of boring honestly. Nobody to actually challenge me, y’know.”

Applejack’s pencil slowed.

“You can connect phones and race head to head though,” Rainbow added, almost to herself. “If there was anyone worth racing.”

Applejack set her pencil down and looked at her last answer, it was probably right. She turned around in her chair.

Rainbow was lying on her back, playing idly with her phone, the picture of casual indifference. But her eyes slid sideways to meet Applejack’s and there was the smug grin at successfully baiting her.

AJ ignored this, sitting next to her on the bed. “Show me how to download it.”

“Gladly.” She sat up, pulling her phone out. “One condition though.”

“If I win,” she pointed, “you take back the egghead comment. Full retraction. Sincere apology.”

Of course that’s what this is about. Applejack tried not to laugh. “And if I win?”

Rainbow blinked, like she forgot it was a possibility, before shrugging. “Sure, what do you want?”

“You're stuck with egghead for a week.” Applejack held out her hand. “Every time I see you.”

Rainbow’s expression flickered for a second. Then she grabbed Applejack's hand and shook it once, firm.

“You're not gonna win,” she said.

“Download me the game, egghead.”

Rainbow’s eye twitched, but she complied. 

The download took two minutes. The tutorial took five. Applejack went through it once, methodically, the way she did everything, reading each prompt before tapping through it while Rainbow lay on her stomach beside her watching with barely concealed impatience.

“You don't have to read every–”

“I'm reading every one.”

Rainbow made a sound but didn't push it.

By the end of the tutorial Applejack had a reasonable handle on the controls. As much as she could on a phone anyway.

“Ready?” Rainbow asked, phone in hand, already connected.

“Ready.”

She was not ready.

The first thirty seconds were fine actually. Applejack had a handle on the controls, she was holding a reasonable position, she was feeling cautiously confident about this.

Then a random bot she hadn't even seen coming slammed into her from the side and sent her spinning off the track entirely.

“What the–” she yanked her phone straight, “–why is it allowed to do that–”

Rainbow’s cackle from beside her was absolutely no help.

Applejack gritted her teeth and focused. She clawed her way back up through the pack, found a power up, used it on the bot that had hit her first purely out of principle. She was in fourth coming into the final lap. Rainbow was in first, had been in first basically the whole race, but the gap between them was tiny and it wasn't totally impossible to overtake her.

She increased her speed but when she looked again, Rainbow had disappeared. It lasted just for a second, but she seemed to have taken a turn that Applejack hadn't seen, and reappeared twenty meters ahead crossing the finish line.

“There’s a shortcut,” she said flatly, staring at her screen in disbelief.

“There is!” Rainbow confirmed brightly.

“Why wasn't that in the tutorial?”

“Where’s the mystery if everything’s in the tutorial?” Rainbow grinned, nudging her with her foot. “Retraction. Any time–”

Applejack scoffed, her competitive instincts flaring. “Best out of three.”

“You barely even know the track–”

“I know enough. Pick your character.”

Rainbow gave her a look that was equal parts amused and suspicious, then shrugged and picked the same one as before. Applejack scrolled through the roster slowly, deliberately, and then stopped on a small green alien character.

The second race was a completely different situation.

Applejack used her first power up on Rainbow without hesitation. Rainbow responded by knocking her into a wall. Applejack came back with something that spun her out on the second lap. Rainbow found the shortcut again and screamed through it. Applejack took a hit from a bot, took the hit personally, and used her next power up on the bot.

“That was a bot–” Rainbow started.

“I know what it was.”

Applejack still didn't know the track as well, and still got thrown around by bots. But she had her character and she understood, fundamentally, what he could do. Mostly, Applejack was around second and third place, biding her time

Rainbow was in first again, and that smug smile Applejack had mixed feelings about was returning. 

The last stretch of the final lap opened up, and Applejack unleashed her character’s power. She zapped from second to first in the final second of the race, crossing the finish line before Rainbow had time to register what had happened.

There was a moment of silence.

“WHAT–”

“One all,” Applejack said mildly.

“You zapped me–”

“That’s his power.”

“Right at the finish line–”

“Seemed like a good time.”

“That is so– that’s fucking dirty, Applejack, that’s genuinely unsportsmanlike–”

“Y’had a shortcut.”

“That’s completely different–”

“Is it?”

Rainbow made a sound of pure outrage and immediately readied the next race. “Final round. Right now.”

The third race was war to put it mildly.

Any pretense of clean racing dissolved within the first thirty seconds. Applejack stopped caring about the bots entirely. Rainbow stopped caring about the shortcut. It was just them, neck and neck, targeting each other with every power up, every dirty move, and every cheap shot the game allowed.

Rainbow hit her with a power up. Applejack zapped ahead with her character. Rainbow found another power up. Applejack cut her off on a turn. Back and forth, back and forth, and they were both laughing and neither of them was paying attention to anything else in the world.

Final lap. Applejack was ahead by half a car length.

She felt Rainbow move before she saw it, a hand shooting out to knock her phone sideways.

Applejack had been waiting for exactly this.

She kicked Rainbow’s phone out of her grip, caught her own one handed, and pulled it back to her chest.

“APPLEJACK–”

“You started it!”

Applejack didn't get to finish her sentence because Rainbow lunged at her. 

One second they were sitting side by side and the next Rainbow had tackled her sideways into the mattress and Applejack’s phone went skidding off the bed entirely and neither of them cared anymore because Rainbow’s fingers found her ribs and Applejack’s whole body betrayed her immediately.

She dissolved into a mess of giggles.

“Say it,” Rainbow demanded, absolutely merciless, “say I'm not an egghead–”

“Never,” Applejack wheezed, twisting uselessly, “Rainbow Dash I swear to–”

“Say it!”

“No–” tears streamed down her face, “stop, stop.”

“Not until you say it!”

Applejack grabbed her wrists. It took everything she had but she caught them, held them, and for a second they were both just breathing hard, the laughter dying out slowly.

It was then she realized how close Rainbow was. 

Close enough that when she exhaled the breath ghosted warm across Applejack’s face. Close enough that their noses were almost touching. Rainbow’s hands were still loosely caught in hers.

The room was suddenly very quiet.

Rainbow’s expression shifted into one Applejack didn't know how to read. The laughter had fizzled out and left something softer behind, and for once Rainbow didn't seem to hide it behind a grin or a joke or movement. 

Applejack’s heart thudded so hard against her chest she didn’t doubt Rainbow could hear it, probably even feel it.

“I surrender,” she said quietly.

Her voice came out rougher than she intended. She watched Rainbow’s throat move.

“You have to say the whole thing,” Rainbow said. Her voice was different too. Raspier.

“You're not an egghead,” Applejack said.

There was another moment of Rainbow seemingly processing the words. Then she sat back, and the moment snapped, and she ran a hand through her hair and looked somewhere that wasn't Applejack’s face.

“Cool,” she said, nodding at nothing in particular.

As if on cue, her phone buzzed. Applejack caught the name on the lit screen without meaning to, and looked away before she could think about it.

Rainbow glanced at Lightning’s text and moved to get off the bed.

“I'm gonna head out, actually.” She started gathering her things, shoving her worksheet into her bag and moving towards the window.

Applejack raised a brow wondering why Rainbow won’t look at her. “Door’s right there.”

"Window’s faster.”

Applejack didn't argue.

She watched Rainbow haul herself back over the sill, backpack on, and disappear out the window the same way she'd come. Applejack listened to the sounds of her on the porch roof, then the drainpipe.

She turned off the lamp and got into bed and stared at the ceiling and tried not to think about the color of Rainbow's eyes in the lamplight.

She failed.

✦ 

Applejack had been standing on her chair for the better part of twenty minutes, hammer in hand and nail between her fingers, doing what should have been a five minute job. It was a simple task, really, to drive a nail in the wall for a photo.

The nail had gone in clean after the first three strikes but she'd kept going anyway, adjusting, checking the level, adjusting again, because stopping meant standing still and standing still meant thinking and she had been doing entirely too much of that for the past forty eight hours.

She placed the picture frame up against the wall.

It was a photo of their friend group from one of the many events the school insisted on having yearly. Rainbow Dash grinned back at her from the picture, one arm thrown around Applejack's shoulder, caught mid laugh at something someone had said just before the shutter went off.

She stared at her for an embarrassing amount of time, before tossing it back onto bed where Dash’s stupid smile couldn’t tease her. The photo needed another nail anyway, for balance. 

So Applejack took her time, getting her box of nails from the windowsill and focused on measuring and marking and kept her mind far far away from Thursday night and Rainbow above her, close enough to count her eyelashes if she'd wanted to–

“Hey Apples.”

The next few seconds happened in a blur, Applejack felt a spike of pain as the hammer missed the nail and landed straight on her finger. The chair she was on tilted and her free hand reached for the wall, catching nothing and her back hit the floor with a thud that knocked every thought clean out of her head.

There were small sounds around her, the scattered nails rolling across the hardwood, the chair settling, and somewhere further away, Rainbow’s voice saying something she couldn't process yet.

Distantly she thought, well that's what you get for thinking about her eyelashes.

She stared at the inside of her eyelids and took stock of her situation. Her back hurt. Her finger throbbed. Her head was doing a low steady thumping that she decided to just let happen. Her dignity was in critical condition. And somewhere in the room Rainbow Dash was responsible for all of it.

“Applejack.” Footsteps approached her fast. “AJ.”

Something about the way she said it made Applejack's chest do the thing she didn't have the energy for right now.

A tap on her cheek. “Applejack, open your eyes–”

She did, and immediately wanted to shut them back.

Rainbow was above her. Again. Magenta eyes wide and concerned, hair falling forward, close enough that Thursday night came back to her all at once like a wave she hadn't braced for.

The universe, Applejack decided, had a terrible sense of humor.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi?” Rainbow's voice cracked slightly. “Oh my god are you concussed?” she moved even closer if that was possible, widening AJ’s eyelids to peer into them. “I’ll never forgive myself if–”

Applejack bluescreened after that because Rainbow’s nose just touched her and the contact was too much, and she needed to leave before she did something stupid. She grabbed Dash’s shoulders startling her into silence and gently pushing her off.

“I’m fine.” she managed.

“You were not responding–”

“I was thinking.”

Finally, Rainbow sat back on her heels and stared at her. “You were thinking. On the floor.”

“I had a lot to process.”

Something moved through Rainbow's expression, relief curdling into something that wanted to be exasperation but couldn't quite get there yet. She sat back fully, letting Applejack breathe, and dragged a hand through her hair.

“You scared me.”

The sincerity in her voice tugged on AJ’s heart and she glanced at Rainbow. The athlete avoided her gaze, the way she always did when she admitted something vulnerable. She was looking at the scattered nails on the floor, jaw working slightly, and Applejack nudged her with her foot to get her attention.

“I'm okay,” Applejack said, slowly moving her throbbing hand away from Rainbow’s line of sight. “Truly.”

Rainbow nodded, but it seemed more of a reassurance to herself than an agreement with her. Then her eyes dropped to Applejack's moving hand.

“Let me see your finger.”

It wasn't a question. Applejack lifted her hand and Rainbow took it in both of hers, carefully, turning it toward the light from the window. Her touch was so different from Thursday, no grabbing or grappling. Her thumb ran lightly along the edge of her nail bed.

Applejack looked at the ceiling, and tried not to flush by sheer force of will.

“It's not broken,” Rainbow finally decided. “Probably. Does this hurt?”

“Everything hurts, Dash.”

“On a scale of–”

“Rainbow.”

“Okay okay, grumpy.” She finally let go of the hand and Applejack immediately missed the touch.

“Don't move okay,” Rainbow said, already standing. “I got you.”

She was out the door before Applejack could respond.

With no other options, Applejack lay back on the floor, and let her mind drift..

She thought about Thursday night.

She thought about hey apples in that voice, casual and warm, like it cost her nothing.

She thought about magenta eyes wide with concern and Rainbow's nose touching hers and I'll never forgive myself said like she meant it down to her bones.

She thought about how she was overthinking this.

Of course Rainbow was concerned that her friend fell. Anyone in their right mind would be. She was reading too much into everything. 

That was just how Rainbow was. Open handed with affection when she wanted to be, fiercely loyal, thoughtless in the way only someone deeply loved could afford to become. She threw herself at people without hesitation and trusted they’d catch her, and Applejack always did. That didn’t make them special, Applejack knew that. 

Still, knowing it didn’t stop the stupid hopeful part of her from wanting more every time Rainbow looked at her too softly or stood too close. Every touch lingered longer in her head than it should’ve, every casual bit of affection picked apart later when she was alone and had too much time to think. But wanting more meant risking this, risking this version of Rainbow she already had.

And Applejack had lost enough things in her life to know better than to gamble the good ones. If the choice was between loving Rainbow quietly or not having Rainbow at all, well. That had never really felt like a choice. 

She put her uninjured hand over her face.

Maybe she really was concussed, it would explain her stupid thoughts.

Applejack barely registered the footsteps when Rainbow reappeared in the doorway, ice wrapped in a dish towel, and stopped.

“You’re still on the floor.”

Applejack bit back a groan. “You said don’t move.”

“I meant like, don't move to walk around, not–” she gestured at Applejack's full horizontal situation, “this.”

Before Applejack could answer Rainbow's hands were on her face, tilting it toward the light from the window, thumbs resting light against her cheekbones, peering at her with an expression of focused concern that was doing terrible things to Applejack's ability to function.

“Your pupils look the same size,” she muttered more to herself. “Good sign.” Her thumbs were resting lightly on Applejack's cheekbones. “Do you feel dizzy? Any headache?”

Applejack was extremely dizzy. It had nothing to do with the fall. She could feel her face getting warm at the contact. 

Rainbow's brow furrowed, and she pressed the back of her hand to Applejack's forehead. “You're heating up. Are you sure you feel fine? You might be going into shock–”

“I–” she started. “I’m fine. Just gimme the ice.”

Dash ignored this and settled cross legged beside her on the floor, took her hand again without asking this time, and pressed the ice to her finger.

Applejack stared.

She couldn't help it. Rainbow was zeroed on her hand making small adjustments to the towel to make sure the ice was hitting the right spot. She was watching it with the same focused expression she got during practice, like icing a finger was a task that required her full athletic attention. Her lashes were doing the thing where they caught the afternoon light coming through the window, and her eyes shone in the afternoon sun, so warm and too much and staring right at her.

Applejack realized a half second too late that she’d been caught. Rainbow had already raised a brow and tilted her head as if to ask what.

“I can ice it myself,” Applejack said, and her stupid voice did not sound as sure as she wanted. 

Dash’s expression flickered for a moment, but she let go, leaning back on her hands, giving her space that Applejack immediately resented asking for.

She pressed the ice to her own finger and looked very intently at the wall, as Rainbow got to her feet.

“So,” Rainbow said, after a moment. “You gonna tell me what you were hammering?”

Applejack nodded reluctantly toward the wall. The pencil marks, the two half finished nails, the frame still face down on the bed. Rainbow turned it over and looked at it for a moment with a soft smile on her face.

“Cute picture,” she set it down carefully, and picked up the hammer.

Applejack eyed her warily. “What are you doing,”

“Finishing it.”

“You don't gotta–”

“You can't hammer anything with that hand.” She was already looking at the wall, at the pencil marks, measuring the distance between them with her eyes. “Where'd you want the second one?”

Applejack was going to argue, but the look Rainbow gave her made her think twice about it.

So she told her where to put the nail. 

✦ 

At some point, Applejack had stopped commenting on Rainbow climbing through her window.

Which was probably a problem.

Not the climbing (Applejack had long since accepted that wasn't changing anytime soon) but the part where she’d started expecting it. Catching herself looking out the window like there might be a certain rainbow-haired idiot perched there already.

She caught herself doing it again today, but it was only because Rainbow was supposed to be here hours ago.

Applejack had known, statistically speaking, that this was optimistic. Rainbow Dash and punctuality had a complicated relationship at best and a hostile one at worst, and eight o’clock on a Friday was always going to be more of a suggestion than a commitment. She knew this. She had accounted for this.

What she hadn’t accounted for was nine o’clock coming and going, and then ten, and her phone staying stubbornly silent which meant Rainbow was still coming which meant Applejack was still waiting, and that was its own kind of humiliating.

Out of pure spite, she’d gotten out her geography homework that she’d been procrastinating for days now, so that if Rainbow did come she won’t be waiting and pining like some lovesick idiot.

Which technically was what she was. Because if it was anyone else Applejack would have gone to bed at nine thirty without thinking twice about it.

It wasn’t until five minutes past eleven that she heard the tell tale thud on her porch roof. She’d left the window open, and listened to the sounds of Rainbow hauling herself up into the room.

“Sorry I’m late,” Rainbow said, kicking off her shoes and placing them by the windowsill. “Lightning dragged me into this whole thing after practice, long story.”

That tracked. Dash and Lightning were either always trying to rip each other’s throats out on the field or shoulder to shoulder after, bumping shoulders and arguing like they were having fun doing it. 

“I tried to escape, I swear, but you know how she is.”

Applejack really didn’t, and frankly didn’t want to. She hummed in acknowledgement anyway, telling herself the drop in her stomach was residual annoyance about the three hours wasted.

It wasn’t her business what Dash got up to. 

What was her business though, was that she had been kept waiting for hours without a word. “Y’didn’t think to text?”

“Phone died,” Rainbow at least had the sense to look sheepish as she shrugged off her jacket. “You got a charger?”

“S’where it always is,” Applejack said, jerking her chin toward the nightstand.

Rainbow followed her line of sight, already moving, grabbing the charger and plugging her phone in without a second thought.

“You start without me?” she asked, nodding at the open laptop on Applejack’s bed.

“Was gonna.” Applejack lied.  “Didn’t think you’d show.”

“Wow,” Rainbow pressed a hand to her chest. “After everything we’ve been through?”

Applejack snorted despite herself, shutting her book and getting on the bed. “After three hours, yeah.”

“Rude.”

Applejack clicked her tongue. “Says the late one.”

Dash grinned, entirely unbothered, and reached down for her bag she’d dropped by the window. “Made it up to you.”

Applejack watched as she pulled out two large bags and raised a brow. “You tryna bribe me with snacks?”

“It’s caramel popcorn.” Dash sang, and Applejack cursed her for knowing she could absolutely be bought with caramel popcorn.

She grabbed the bag anyway, already opening it.

Rainbow took that as her opening, hopping up onto the bed beside her. “So there’s this movie I was thinking we should watch instead…”

With a shrug, Applejack let Dash pick the one she wanted.

Big fucking mistake.

“This is so cool,” Rainbow said with complete sincerity, happily watching some guy smash his own face.

“That ain’t–” she turned from the screen, “why’s there so much–”

“It's called a horror movie, AJ.”

“I know what a horror movie is, I didn't know it was gonna be like–”  she gestured at the screen, unable to finish the sentence.

“Gory?” Rainbow supplied, grinning so wide it had to hurt. She wasn't even fully watching the movie anymore, she was watching Applejack watch the movie, which pissed the cowgirl off to no end. She wouldn’t be surprised if the athlete picked it solely to watch her squirm.

“Yes,” she grumbled. “It’s supposed to be scary, this is just disgustin’.”

“It’s cool,” Rainbow spoke between chews. “You’re just scared.”

Applejack scowled. “Am not.”

“You’re literally squirming in your own bed–”

“I ain’t.”

“Well then.” Rainbow smirked and Applejack knew she had her right where she wanted her. She grabbed the laptop and moved to lean on the headboard. “Prove it.”

She should have said no.

She knew she should have said no. The smart thing, the sensible thing, the thing a person with any self preservation instinct would have done, was to say no Rainbow I am not gonna prove anything to you at midnight on a Saturday and take the laptop and put on something reasonable.

She settled back against the headboard next to her instead.

“Fine,” she said. “Put it back on.”

Rainbow’s grin could have powered the whole farm.

They watched the rest of it shoulder to shoulder, which Applejack told herself was because the laptop screen was small and not for any other reason. 

A jumpscare hit out of nowhere and Applejack grabbed Rainbow’s arm so hard she felt her tense.

Rainbow wheezed.

Applejack scowled. “Don’t.”

“You grabbed me~”

“Anybody woulda grabbed somethin’–”

Rainbow bit her lip so hard she went red trying not to laugh. She lost. Completely dissolved sideways into the pillow.

Applejack looked at the ceiling and thought about her life choices.

She grabbed her twice more before the credits rolled and Rainbow didn’t say a word about it either time, just let her hold on, which was somehow worse than being made fun of.

Applejack slammed her laptop shut with more force than necessary. “You ain’t ever pickin’ a movie again.”

“Oh come on, that was a great–”

A crack of thunder cut her off, the sound so loud the windows rattled.

Rainbow flinched so hard she nearly came off the bed, both hands clinging to the nearest thing which happened to be Applejack’s torso.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Applejack looked down at her hands on her arm. Looked up at Rainbow’s quickly reddening face.

She let go immediately. “Shut up.”

AJ smirked. “Ain’t sayin’ anythin’.”

“You don’t have to.”

Applejack said nothing. She watched Rainbow smooth out her expression back into something casual and unbothered and felt the smile she was hiding pulling at the corner of her mouth.

Rainbow ignored her, rising from the bed to go to the window.

There was a flash of lightning and another crack of thunder, longer this time, before the rain started all at once. It slammed against the roof and window with the force of a damn flood.

Dash glanced out the window at her motorcycle parked outside. 

Applejack crossed her arms. “Don’t even think about it.”

Rainbow turned from the window. “I’ve ridden in worse–”

“In your dreams, maybe.” Applejack was already off the bed, moving to her dresser. “You’re stayin’ here.”

“AJ I don’t need–”

“It ain’t up for discussion, Dash.” She pulled open the second drawer and rummaged through it, coming up with an old sleep shirt and pajama pants. She held it out. “Here.”

Rainbow looked at the shirt. Looked at the window where rain was sheeting sideways against the glass. Looked back at the shirt.

Applejack rolled her eyes if only to distract from her own blushing face. “I mean if you wanna sleep in jeans that’s fine, ain’t gonna–”

Rainbow snatched the clothes from her and stalked off before she could finish her sentence. 

Applejack quickly climbed into bed, and opened her phone and pretended like her heart wasn’t doing gymnastics in her chest.

She didn't even know why she was so nervous . It’s not like she had Rainbow haven’t done this before. Maybe it was the storm, or the fact that Applejack could barely glance at her best friend these days without swooning but something about tonight felt different.

Finally the door swung open and out came Rainbow.

The shirt was fine. It was an old one, worn soft from washing, and while it was big enough on Applejack, it fit Rainbow like a dress, falling almost to her knees. The collar slipped off one shoulder, and Applejack had to turn away just as fast as she had looked because goddamn.

“The pants were too big,” she said for no reason.

“I see that.” Applejack said into her phone, pretending to be very invested in some cat video Pinkie sent her.

The atmosphere was weirdly awkward as Rainbow padded over to the edge of the bed, and Applejack tried her hardest to keep her eyes to herself.

“You got smaller ones or–”

“It's fine.” She pulled back the covers and got in on her side. "It's fine, doesn't matter, come on."

Dash didn't move, instead she stood at the foot of the bed, hip cocked and a pensive look on her face. 

“What is it now?”

“Nothing,” Rainbow’s lips curved. “Just, if you wanted me in your bed that bad, you could've just asked, cowgirl.”

Applejack went so red so fast she felt it in her ears.

“Get in the bed,” she managed without stuttering, “before I change my mind and make you sleep on the porch.”

With a cackle, Rainbow finally moved to get on the bed. Applejack reached and switched off the lamp, making sure to avoid eye contact.

The room went dark and was silent save for the rain. 

Applejack listened to it and tried very hard to think about nothing. The rain was good for that usually. If she focused hard enough on the steady drumming, she could quiet her mind and fall asleep. It didn't work tonight, though.

Rainbow sighed loudly, reminding AJ of her presence even though she never forgot. 

Gee, I wonder why. 

Applejack ignored it, laying very still on her side of the bed now trying to be extremely normal about the fact that her friend was six inches away from her in her shirt and she could feel the warmth of her and could smell her damn shampoo–

Rainbow sighed again, successfully distracting her from her spiraling thoughts. 

“What?”

“Nothing, it's just quiet.”

“It's rainin'. That ain't quiet.”

“Yeah but it's like.” Rainbow shifted. “Background quiet. I can still hear myself think.”

“Lord forbid,” Applejack chuckled.

Rainbow turned to face her.

Which was her right. It was a free country. People turned over in bed all the time and it meant nothing and Applejack was not going to make it into something it wasn't.

She was just very aware of it. The shift in the mattress, the warmth moving closer, the fact that if she turned her head they would be approximately nose to nose and she had learned recently that she lost all higher function when she was close to Rainbow Dash.

She stared at the ceiling instead.

Rainbow, seemingly oblivious, drifted closer in the absent way she had of occupying whatever space was available to her. Applejack wondered distantly why she'd never noticed before that her bed was not very big.

“Well,” she said mostly to distract herself from the feeling of Rainbow’s eyes on her. “What were you thinkin’ about?”

“Stuff.”

Applejack failed to suppress an eyeroll. “Real specific.”

Rainbow hummed out a small laugh as she shuffled closer. “Your ceiling has a crack in it.”

“No, really?” Applejack deadpanned.

“Yeah,” she continued. “Kinda looks like a river.”

It did look like one, but Applejack saw through what she was trying to do. “Y’re stallin’.”

“What?”

“Your thoughts,” Applejack finally turned to face her, ignoring the closeness. “Tell me about ‘em.”

For once, Rainbow seemed to be the one at a loss for words. Now it was her turn to look away. 

“They’re stupid.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Applejack could practically hear those thoughts, could feel them bounce around her mind as she contemplated it.  

“Just." She could hear Rainbow choosing her words in the pause. “Do you… sometimes feel like things are about to change but, like, you’re not sure if you want them to?”

Applejack did not know what she expected to hear but she knew it wasn't that. Her silence pushed Dash to continue, almost rambling.

“I mean don't get me wrong, things are fine. But I want things and I–” she cut herself off. “Forget it. Like I said, it’s stupid.”

It wasn’t very often Rainbow talked about her feelings and Applejack wanted to indulge her. She knew what she was trying to say, was very familiar with the feelings that Dash was trying to convey but didn't really have the words for. 

She reached out to Dash in an attempt to ground her, her hand landing on the closest thing of Rainbow’s which happened to be the side of her arm. 

“No it ain’t. I… I know what you mean.”

Rainbow finally made eye contact. “Yeah?”

For once, Applejack didn’t fluster. “It’s like, you want stuff but you don’t wanna lose the good thing you already got. ”

Rainbow was silent for a long moment, and Applejack worried she’s projected too much of her stupid complicated feelings onto Rainbow.

“Exactly,” she said softly. “That’s exactly it.”

And now Applejack was confused. She doesn’t want to jump conclusions or misinterpret the situation but if Dash felt the same way she did then what did that mean? Applejack desperately wanted to ask but she also doesn’t because what if she’s been reading too much into this and Dash doesn’t like her like that. Or worse, Dash felt that way but about someone else, Applejack wasn’t sure she could handle it.

She was pretty sure the latter was true but didn’t want to think about it.

“Applejack?”

The soft sleepy tone pulled her attention and she hummed.

“You won’t lose me, though. You know that right?”

Rainbow was looking at her with those eyes, heavy lidded and so honest in the dark, and she meant it. That was the thing about Rainbow Dash that Applejack had never quite figured out how to handle. She meant things. Underneath all the bravado and the noise and the competitive nonsense she was one of the most sincere people Applejack had ever known and moments like this, quiet ones, dark ones, ones where her guard had come down far enough to show it, were the ones that did the most damage.

“Yeah,” Applejack said. Her voice came out quieter than she intended. “ ‘Course I do.”

Rainbow held her gaze for a moment longer, then something in her face relaxed, like she’d needed to say it as much as Applejack had needed to hear it. She shifted slightly, settling deeper into the pillow, eyes already going soft at the edges.

“Good,” she murmured. “‘Cause you're stuck with me.”

Applejack didn’t get to respond because Rainbow's breaths quickly evened out, leaving her with the sounds of the rain outside and her thoughts.

Laying in the dark and staring at the ceiling, she felt the warmth of the girl next to her, and knew sleep would not come for a much longer time. 

✦ 

“This place’s about to bloww.”

“Ain’t nothin’ blowin’, Rainbow. Get in here before you break your neck.” Applejack said, grabbing her wrist and steadying her as she climbed in through the window like she hadn’t done it a hundred times before.

Rainbow landed easily, barely needing the help, but she didn’t pull away right away either. “C’mon, AJ,” she said, already looking around like she was sizing the place up. “We got the house to ourselves. We should be partying.”

“Ain’t nobody throwin’ a party in my house.”

Rainbow pouted, dragging out a dramatic groan. “You’re no fun.”

Applejack didn’t even dignify that with a response, moving to shut the window.

Dash shrugged, as she made her way in. “Better when it’s just us anyway.”

Before Applejack could even think of something to say, Rainbow was already moving. “At least tell me there’s food,” she was saying, dropping her bag by the window and stretching like she hadn’t just invited herself over. “I’m starving.”

Applejack rolled her eyes, but she was already heading for the door. “Pretty sure you ate after practice.”

“Yeah, like, hours ago.”

Applejack couldn't help her smile. “One hour ago.”

“Is tonight the night you let me die, Applejack?” Rainbow called after her.

She could hear the grin in Dash’s voice as she followed her downstairs.

“Keep talkin’ and I might.”

The kitchen light flickered on, and Applejack went to pulling food out of the fridge, mostly pie slices and fritters. Rainbow, on the other hand, immediately started snooping.

“Don’t touch anythin’,” Applejack warned, not even turning around.

“Too late,” Rainbow had somehow climbed up the counter to reach one of the higher cabinets now, holding up a glass bottle like she’d just struck gold.

Applejack’s stomach dropped.

“That ain’t for you.”

“What, this?” Rainbow turned it in her hands, squinting at the label. “It’s just cider.”

“Ain’t just cider.”

Rainbow glanced up at her, grin already creeping in. “So it’s the fun kind.”

Applejack crossed her arms. “Put it back.”

“Relax,” she cut in, already reaching for another. “We’ll just take one. Granny said help yourselves right?”

She did, but Applejack was pretty sure that didn’t include alcohol. Rainbow was holding two bottles up with her eyebrows raised, expression perfectly calibrated between hopeful and innocent, and Applejack was so tired of that face working on her.

“Don't drop 'em,” she said.

Rainbow's grin split wide. “I won't.”

“I mean it, Dash, those are glass–”

“I have excellent hands, I'm an athlete–”

“Just get off the counter.”

To no one’s surprise, this was a bad fucking idea

And not even because Granny would tan her hide six ways to Sunday if she ever found out Applejack had gotten into her personal stash. No. Her problem was sitting cross legged on her carpet, three quarters through a bottle of hard cider, laughing at something that had stopped being funny two minutes ago.

Applejack could only watch as Rainbow got undone in real time.

Sure they’d had alcohol before, but Rainbow never drank enough to get anywhere beyond buzzed so this was new. 

It was like watching the sun go down, all slow and gradual until it got dark and suddenly you couldn't remember when exactly the light had disappeared. 

It started simply enough, with the hiccups and her words starting to trip over one another as she spoke, and only got worse from there. Somewhere between the giggles and talk, the usual mini gap between them had closed, and Rainbow had been pressed against Applejack’s side for the better of twenty minutes and she was trying to be normal about it.

It should be normal actually, considering how tactile Dash usually was. She'd always been a nudge your shoulder, grab your arm, drape herself across you without warning kind of person. Applejack had made peace with it years ago.

Drunk Dash, though, was different. 

It was mostly the same gestures, but this time, They were laced with affection. When she laughed at something Applejack said she leaned into her space. When she reached for her bottle she let her hand land on Applejack's knee first, briefly. At some point her fingers had found Applejack's and laced themselves through.

And this was bad, this was so fucking bad because Applejack was reciprocating and she hadn't even decided to. Her thumb had just started moving on the back of Rainbow's hand like it was the most natural thing in the world and she hadn't noticed until just now and she couldn't stop because stopping would mean acknowledging she'd started .

She took a long sip of cider.

The warmth of it spread through her chest and joined the other warmth that was already there, the one that had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with Dash's shoulder pressed against hers and her fingers laced through hers and– 

“You know what your problem is,” Rainbow’s voice pulled her out of her head.

“Got a feelin' you're gonna tell me.”

“You think too much.” She tilted her head against Applejack's shoulder. “Like all the time. I can literally hear you thinking sometimes.”

“That ain't possible.”

“It is. You get this–” Rainbow waved her free hand vaguely at Applejack's face, “thing. Where you go somewhere else in your head and you think I can't tell but I always can.”

Applejack said nothing, focusing on the feelings of Dash’s hands in hers. 

“So tell me,” she hiccuped, “where do you go?”

“Nowhere important,” she said.

Rainbow made a sound that meant she didn’t believe her but wasn’t going to push. That was new too, Applejack noted distantly. Sober Rainbow would have pushed.

The silence stretched, comfortable and warm, and Applejack should have let it stay that way. She knew she should have let it stay that way, but no, tipsy Applejack clearly had other plans.

“What about you,” she asked instead. “Where do you go?”

Rainbow was quiet for long enough that Applejack thought she might have fallen asleep there on her shoulder. Then she exhaled slowly.

“Same place lately,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Mm.” Her thumb moved absently against Applejack’s hand. “Been thinkin’ about someone.”

Applejack had to suck on a breath because holy shit. Of everything she’d expected Rainbow to say that was nowhere on the list. Then again, when had Rainbow ever been predictable.

How Applejack’s voice stayed even was a mystery. “Anyone I know? ”

“Yeah,” she said. “You know her.”

Applejack's breath hitched as her mind jumped straight to one place, or rather person. 

After the talk she and Rainbow had the night she’d stayed over, Applejack had mulled it over despite her better instincts and, unfortunately, reached a conclusion.

Rainbow liked someone and was too scared to go for it.

Really what other explanation could there be? She’d spent a week thinking about it; a week of turning it over and following the evidence and landing on the same answer every single time, and some stupid hopeful part of her had still been holding out, still thinking maybe she was wrong. 

That, maybe it was nobody and Applejack was overthinking, as goddamn usual. 

Now, Rainbow had admitted she’d been correct in her assumption, and all her doubts and worries came thrashing to the surface.

Never in her life has Applejack been so devastated to be proven right.

She took a long pull of cider and let the burn of it ground her back in her body because she needed something to do with her hands and her face and the hollow feeling that was currently opening up somewhere in her chest.

Rainbow was still pressed warm against her side. Still had her fingers laced through hers. Still had absolutely no idea the damage she was doing, and Applejack wouldn't let her because it was all on her. 

“So, what's she like?”

The normal thing to have done now, would be to change the subject, talk about something else, let the moment pass, but Applejack felt anything but normal about this and some part of her needed to hear this. It was like poking a bruise to feel how bad it was, the pain would have to be felt so you know how to begin to heal.

She had to know if she was right.

She had to know if she liked Lightning.

Rainbow considered it, thumb still moving against her hand, and Applejack focused on that small movement like it was the last she’d ever feel of it.

“Uh…” she huffed a quiet laugh. “Hard to explain.”

Applejack stared straight ahead. “Try.”

“Okay, well–” Rainbow tilted her head back, looking at the ceiling. “She’s stubborn. Like, really stubborn.”

Applejack mentally checked that box off. Lightning was stubborn, Rainbow complained more than enough times about it.

"Can keep up with me. Not many people can."

Did that one even need an explanation?

“And–” Rainbow’s voice went soft in the way it only did when she was saying something she actually meant. “I don't have to try around her. Like it's just–” she exhaled. “Easy. You know? Like I can just be.”

And if Applejack’s heart broke before, well, it was shattered now.

Because this meant they'd gotten somewhere, her and Lightning, somewhere past the competitive surface of it into something underneath. This meant Rainbow had let her guard down around her the way she only did with people she trusted all the way, the way she did with their whole friend group, the way she did with Applejack.

The way she’s doing right now, with her head on AJ’s shoulders and her fingers laced through hers.

Applejack felt something in her chest do a slow quiet thing that she didn't have a name for and didn't want one. It wasn't sharp like jealousy, but worse than that. It was the specific grief of realizing someone you love has found something real with someone else, and the simultaneous knowledge that you should be glad for them, and the horrible truth that you were glad for them, and that didn't make it hurt any less.

She looked down at their hands. Rainbow's thumb still moved while hers had gone still.

“Sounds like you got it bad,” she said.

“Maybe,” Rainbow admitted.

And because Applejack was raised right and she loved this girl, and this was what loving looked like sometimes, she nudged her softly. “Y’should ask her out then.”

Rainbow’s head lifted from her shoulder.

“Yeah?” she said.

“Yeah.”

She meant it. She did. She loved Rainbow Dash more than she had words for and she wanted her to be happy even if happiness looked like Lightning Dust, even if it meant watching from the outside of something she'd never get to be inside of.

The silence that followed was different from the comfortable ones they'd been sitting in all night. This one had weight. Rainbow had gone still beside her, fingers still laced through hers, and wasn't saying anything, and Applejack was staring at the wall thinking about you won't lose me you know that right and how that wasn’t true, because what was this if it wasn’t loss. 

Because after tonight, after Rainbow worked up the courage and asked and Lightning said yes because of course she would, things would change the way they always did. Then, this open door that had been staring Applejack in the face for months would close.

The cold thought settled in her chest, freezing everything over that even the burn of the cider wasn't warm enough to thaw it. 

Her thoughts pulled in different directions and paths and actions for the future and Applejack struggled to pick one, mostly because the outcome did not change in either and she was overwhelmed with different variations of it’s too late. 

“AJ.”

She didn't answer.

“AJ, hey.” Rainbow's voice was soft. “You've got the face again.”

Applejack turned to look at her.

Rainbow was right there. She was always right there. Pink cheeked and bright eyed and looking at her with that expression Applejack had never been able to interpret. Her hand was warm in Applejack's and the door was still open and for once she shut off the voices in her head and picked the one that she’d neglected for far too long.

Applejack kissed her.

The world went quiet.

It was soft. That was the first thing. Softer than she'd expected, softer than anything, and Rainbow made a small sound that Applejack felt more than heard and then Rainbow was kissing her back.

In the half second before it happened she'd thought about a lot of things, rejection, pulling away, Rainbow going still and confused, all the ways this could go wrong. She had not thought about Rainbow's hand tightening around hers and Rainbow tilting into her like she'd been waiting for exactly this.

She felt it everywhere. In her chest, in her hands, behind her eyes in a way that scared her because she recognized that feeling and it meant she was about to cry and she absolutely could not cry right now. Rainbow's free hand came up to her face as if to comfort her, and she was so gentle, like Applejack was something worth being careful with, and that was what did it. That small careful gesture. Something cracked open in her chest that she didn't know how to close.

She deepened the kiss, relishing in the taste of apple cider and the feel of everything else that was so distinctly Rainbow.

This was exactly everything she'd wanted for longer than she'd let herself admit and it was happening and it was so good and she was so sad she could barely breathe with it because this was also the last time.

After this Rainbow would move on and this moment would become something they never talked about, a footnote, a mistake made in hard cider and a house with no adults and too many feelings with nowhere to go. 

So she stayed in it a little longer, memorizing the warmth of her hand and the gentleness she’s always known Rainbow was capable of but rarely got to feel. Time seemed to slow in this moment, almost going completely still as if to let her have this one thing.

But like all good things, it had to end.

It took great effort, but Applejack managed to pull away.

She didn't go far, though. Their foreheads grazed each other and she could feel her breath warm against her mouth and Rainbow's hand was still on her face and neither of them said anything for a long moment.

Finally, Applejack took Rainbow's hand away from her face and put some distance between them. “Y’should ask her out.”

Rainbow blinked, her features still soft from the post kiss haze. “What?”

“The girl.”

Something flickered in Rainbow's expression. Confusion mostly. She tilted toward her slightly, like she was trying to close the distance Applejack had put between them, like she thought maybe she'd misunderstood.

Applejack stumbled to her feet, ignoring the spinning room and grabbing her bed frame for support, as she straightened. All at once the warmth of Rainbow was gone and cold rushed in to replace it, and Applejack felt it everywhere but would have to get used to it because this was her life now.

“AJ–” Rainbow looked up at her from the floor, the delirious softness of a minute ago draining out of her face, replaced by something more awake and more confused and more hurt. “What are you–”

“You should go home.”

“I don't– what happened–”

“Nothin’ happened.” The words tasted wrong even as she said them, but someone had to. “Cider does stupid things. You need to go home and sleep it off.”

“No I don’t,” Rainbow got to her feet, somehow more graceful that Applejack. Something very close to betrayal was etched onto her features. “AJ what is going on–”

Applejack turned away, unable to look at the confusion on her face and the hurt underneath it that was already forming and know that she'd put it there. It was too much on top of everything else that was too much. Her eyes burned and the tears that had been sitting behind her eyes since the kiss spilled over, but she didn’t make a sound. 

“Applejack?” Gone was the drunk softness and the confusion from before, only raw pain in her voice that only made her cry harder. “Applejack, look at me.”

She didn’t. 

"I can’t." she said to the wall. "It's late. Just– go home."

There was a long silence where Rainbow just stood, like she was waiting for her to turn around and take it back. Applejack wondered why this was all harder than it was supposed to be, when all she was doing was letting Rainbow go so she could be with the person who would make her happy. 

It was for both their own goods, so why did it feel so wrong. 

Then, she heard footsteps, listened to them leave the room and go down the stairs slowly, like her legs were lead and she was struggling to carry them away from her. Finally, she heard the front door open. 

The slam rattled the windows.

Applejack stood there for a moment, hand braced on the bedframe, staring at the wall that suddenly had nothing to tell her. At the picture she'd finally managed to hang, Rainbow grinning back at her with her arm around her shoulder.

Her legs gave out and she sat down on the floor right where they'd been sitting an hour ago, back against the bed, where they kissed mere minutes ago. 

And between the empty food wrappers and the bottles of cider, she pressed her face to her knees and stayed there for a long time.

✦ 

Applejack felt like shit.

She woke up in the same position she’d fallen asleep in which was sitting with her head on her knees. Even hungover, she was up with the sun, but instead of going about her usual chores she stayed as she was and thought about Rainbow Dash, the look on her face, and the sound of the front door. 

Thought about Rainbow drunk on her motorcycle.

Rainbow, who wasn’t ever as careful as she should be even stone cold sober, riding home in the dark after a bottle of Granny’s hard cider because Applejack had stood there crying into her own wall and told her to go.

Because she couldn't hold herself together for twenty more minutes and call a cab or offer the guest room or do any of the dozen things a decent person would have done. She’d been so deep in her own feelings, so wrapped up in her own hurt, that she’d sent her best friend who she claimed to love more than anything out into the dark on a bike and hadn’t thought twice until she’d woken up this morning with a pounding head and a kink in her neck and the full weight of what she’d done sitting on her chest.

Some friend.

Some person.

Applejack stared at her you get home okay that she knew wasn’t gonna get answered. 

It was useless to call her now, Applejack knew even as she dialed the number, flinching as it went straight to voicemail. It was too early for Rainbow to be up; she liked sleeping in on Saturdays and now had a hangover to add to it, and that was assuming she made it home safely, which Applejack so hoped she did.

Shit, she’d really fucked this one up. 

She sat there for a while, staring at the wall as the sun crept in through the window, until the stillness got under her skin and she pushed herself up off the floor with a groan. There was work to be done whether she felt like it or not, and now she had the house to herself would be the best time to get them done.

So she moved: fed the animals, checked the fences, kept her hands busy and her mind on anything that wasn’t the image of Rainbow look of betrayal as she sent her away. It worked, mostly. Right up until it didn’t.

By midmorning, she’d checked her phone.

Nothing.

By noon, she told herself Rainbow was sleeping it off.

By afternoon, that excuse started wearing thin.

She didn’t call, again though. Applejack wasn’t the type to hover, and if Rainbow was fine, then crowding her wouldn’t do either of them any favors. So she gave it time. More time than she wanted to.

By evening, the silence had become heavy weighing on her as she checked her phone for the umpteenth time.

Applejack wiped her hands on her jeans and stood there in the middle of the kitchen, staring at her phone like it might give her an answer if she looked hard enough. Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she hit call.

This time, it rang. Once.. Twice.

No answer.

Applejack let it drop, jaw tightening as she listened to Rainbow’s voicemail. Could be she was still asleep, or wasn’t near her phone.

Or she could be ignoring her.

That thought sat ugly in her chest, and Applejack huffed out a breath, dragging a hand down her face. Who was she kidding, of course Dash was ignoring her. Who would blame her if she did. 

Right now, there was only one thing she could do. Even though the idea filled her with dread, she grabbed her hat and keys off the counter.

The drive to Rainbow’s felt longer than it should've.

Applejack kept her eyes on the road and her hands steady on the wheel, but her mind refused to follow suit. It circled the same thoughts over and over, none of them helpful, all of them loud. By the time she pulled up, the sky had gone dim blue.

She cut the engine off with a sigh and stepped out of her truck.

The porch steps creaked under her boots as she climbed them, and for a brief, stupid moment, Applejack considered turning around. Giving it another day or two to let things settle.

She rang the doorbell instead.

Nothing.

She pressed again, longer this time, the sound echoing through the quiet house.

Still nothing.

Applejack frowned, shifting her weight. Rainbow's parents were barely ever home, she knew, but it was rare the athlete ever went out with them. Again, she pushed the thoughts that she was being ignored away.

She glanced up to the side of the house where Rainbow’s window was, and sure enough a dim orange glow was visible from behind the curtains.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, watching the window as she dialed, like she might catch a shadow moving behind the curtain, some sign that she hadn’t just imagined the whole thing.

This time it went straight to voicemail. 

The door remained shut, seemingly mocking her and Applejack breathed through her nose and tried not to do anything rash. 

Then, she had a ridiculous idea.

So ridiculous it might actually work.

The sounds of her boots were muted on the grass as she padded around the side of the house. 

The tree she planned to use came into view, one of its branches stretched out toward Rainbow’s window, close enough to make the whole thing possible and far enough that it still felt like a terrible idea.

At the base, she paused and wondered if she really was going to do this. She could still leave. Try again tomorrow. Pretend she hadn’t driven all the way out here just to get ignored on a front porch.

But the image of her probably blocked number on Rainbow’s phone flashed through her mind, and she grabbed the first branch. 

The bark was rough under her palms as she pulled herself up, boots finding footing against the trunk. It wasn’t graceful by a long shot, but she got there, hauling herself onto the thicker branch with a quiet grunt.

Finally, Rainbow’s window was opposite her, the curtains were still drawn and the light was brighter. Applejack shifted forward carefully, inching along the branch until she was close enough to reach out. The leaves rustled softly around her, loud in the otherwise quiet evening.

She raised her hands and knocked against the glass.

There was a beat where AJ feared Dash wouldn’t answer even now, but then the curtain yanked aside, and Rainbow was suddenly there, framed in warm light. Her hair was a mess, sleep-tossed and uneven, shirt slipping off one shoulder, eyes blown wide in a way AJ had never seen before. 

Rainbow said something that looked a lot like her name, but the window swallowed the sound. 

Applejack opened her mouth. “Dash, I–” 

I what? It was only then Applejack realized she wasn't sure what to say. She’d been so focused on trying to get Rainbow to talk to her, but now that she had, all the pleas and apologies she’d planned had vanished entirely.

She didn't get the chance to figure it out though, because just as quickly as they were opened the curtains dropped. 

Applejack blinked at the fabric, the sudden absence of her hitting harder than she expected. “...seriously?”

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she fumbled it out, nearly dropping it in the process. “Dash–”

“What are you doing,” Rainbow cut in, voice low and tight. “On my window.”

Applejack shifted on the branch, adjusting her grip. “You weren’t answerin’ the door.”

“That doesn’t mean you climb a tree.”

“Well,” she muttered, “ain’t many other options when you’re ignorin’ me.”

There was a pause, not silent though. She could hear breathing through the phone, uneven, like Rainbow was pacing.

“I’m not ignoring you,” Rainbow said finally.

Applejack looked at the still curtain. “Right.”

A sigh. “Go home, AJ.”

The familiarity of the words stabbed her, but she swallowed, holding her ground. “Dash, I just need–”

“No.” Firmer. Still not loud. “Not now.”

Applejack let out a breath, eyes dropping briefly to the ground below before lifting back to the window. “Then when?”

The silence was heavy, and Applejack knew she didn't have an answer. Now was her chance to get Rainbow to listen. “Remember when you climbed my window for cider?”

Applejack could practically hear the question marks so she continued. “You owe me one. ”

There was a longer pause this time, and she knew why. They only ever pulled that card for small things– covering for each other, grabbing something on the way over, stupid favors that didn’t matter in the long run. Never anything like this.

“You’re really gonna pull that right now?” Rainbow’s voice tightened, an emotion other than anger slipping through. “After last night?”

Applejack closed her eyes briefly. “Yeah.”

“…that’s low, AJ.”

Boy did she know it, but AJ’d been teaching all kinds of lows lately. What was one more to the pile?

Her response came as a shrug, forgetting Dash could not see her.

The silence stretched again long enough to be uncomfortable, then the line went dead.

Finally, the latch clicked and the window slid open. 

“Get in,” Rainbow said, already stepping away before Applejack could even move.

When Applejack hauled herself into the room, she’s even less sure of herself. Rainbow moved around the room, picking stuff up, putting them down, and doing anything but facing her. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or not, she wasn’t sure she was ready to face her.

Her fingers wrapped around around themselves as she fidgeted unsure if she should say something or–

“You got mud on the windowsill,” Rainbow muttered.

Applejack spared a glance behind her. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Dash didn't respond to that, still avoiding her gaze. Sucking in her cheek, she finally settled on leaning on the opposite wall furthest from Applejack and crossing her arms. 

She didn’t say anything.

She just looked at her.

Here’s the thing, Applejack had seen Rainbow angry before, had seen her frustrated and loud and dramatic about it in the way she was about everything. She knew what Rainbow’s feelings looked like because she wore all of them openly, like the concept of a poker face had never occurred to her.

This wasn’t any of that.

This was nothing. Flat and still and expressionless in a way Rainbow Dash fundamentally wasn’t, and it was so wrong on her face that Applejack almost preferred the anger. Anger she could work with. Anger meant Rainbow was still in the room with her.

She hated herself for causing it.

“I–” she started, then stopped.

The words didn’t come easy now that she was here. They’d sounded fine in her head, earlier, when she’d been alone in her truck, rehearsing apologies to an empty seat. Now they felt clumsy. Too small for what she’d done.

Rainbow didn’t help her out.

Didn’t fill the silence, didn’t crack a joke, didn’t throw her a rope the way she always did when things got awkward. She just stood there and waited.

Applejack swallowed.

“I shouldn't have sent you home.”

It came out quieter than she intended. She tried again.

“Last night, the way I handled it. It was wrong and I know it.” Her hands found each other again, fingers working against her knuckles. “You were drunk and it was dark and I just–”

She paused again. “I was in my own head and I took that out on you and you didn't deserve that.” Her jaw tightened. “I’m sorry, Dash.”

Rainbow barely acknowledged her speech and clicked her tongue instead.

“What about our kiss?”

All of Applejack's insides froze over. It wasn’t like she didn’t expect the question because she did. Yet she’d clung onto the foolish hope that Rainbow would not mention it and want to move past. That she wouldn’t have to explain her ridiculous actions, in hindsight. 

Rainbow seemed to read her thoughts because her face hardened and she stood straighter. “What, you still wanna pretend that didn’t happen.”

“I ain’t pretendin’–”

“Then what are you doing?” Rainbow’s arms dropped from her chest, and she pushed off the wall. She didn’t go towards her, it was more like she couldn’t hold still anymore. “You come here claiming you want to talk, but when I ask, you don’t!”

“Dash, I’m sorry-“ 

“I don’t need another apology!” She turned, her eyes were bright with frustration and her words were forceful. “I want you to answer me, AJ. Why did you kiss me?”

Applejack opened her mouth. Her mind was doing that thing it always did under pressure, going too fast in too many directions, and none of the directions were helpful and Rainbow was looking at her like she deserved an answer and she did, she did deserve an answer, Applejack just didn’t have one that didn’t crack her clean open to give.

Against her better judgment, she tried to deflect again. “We were drunk and…”

Applejack trailed off because what could she possibly say next without making everything worse. That it was a mistake? They both knew it wasn’t. The words felt so wrong in her head, Applejack couldn’t even bring herself to voice them. 

The silence stretched.

Applejack finally picked her gaze from the ground. When she glanced at Rainbow, she expected to see indifference, or anger still sitting on her face. Instead her eyes were zeroed on AJ, and she realized that she really wanted to know what Applejack was going to say next. 

Instead of finishing her sentence, Applejack dropped her gaze, shoulders slumping. “What’s the point, Dash?”

Rainbow blinked. "What?"

"What's the point in any of this?” Applejack's hand cut through the air, frustrated, "The kiss, the conversation–" she stopped, jaw tight, and tried again. "You like someone, Rainbow." 

Rainbow’s brow knitted “AJ–”

“So what does it matter?” Her voice cracked on it and she hated it. She could hear herself getting louder but couldn't stop it. Months of it all pressed up against the inside of her chest and wet now clawing their way out. “What does it matter what I feel? What does it matter that I–” she gave a bitter laugh, "that I have been losin' my mind for months. That every time you climb through my window I gotta remind myself you ain't mine to–"

Applejack cut herself off, but there was no point. Too much had been said, and she couldn't take any of it back. Might as well continue. 

“I kissed you because I'm in love with you, Rainbow.” The words seemed to echo in the silent room.

“That's why. That's the whole reason. And you were sittin' there talkin' about Lightnin’  and I just–” she exhaled. “I wanted one thing. One stupid thing before I had to let you go. That's all it was.” 

“But it don't matter,” she said finally, to the wall. “That’s my point. You got someone and I went and made it weird and I'm sorry for that, I am, I just–” she pressed her fingers to her eyes briefly, voice dropping. “I ain't gonna be the reason you lose that.”

Finally Applejack placed her hat back on her head, chest heaving, the sudden silence ringing in her ears. She wanted Rainbow to say something, anything to break it.

When she glanced at the athlete she had the strangest look on her face. 

“…Lightning?” Rainbow said slowly.

Applejack frowned. She'd just cracked herself open and Rainbow was asking about her. “Yeah?”

Rainbow blinked at her.

“You said Lightning.” Rainbow's voice was strange. “That's who you think I was talking about.”

“Well yeah.” Applejack's brow furrowed, thrown off by the shift. “Who else would you be–”

“You. Applejack I was talking about you.”

Applejack was so thrown off she had to take a step back.

Because that didn't make sense. That did not align with the idea she’d spent the past week curating and confirming. Lightning was stubborn. Lightning kept up with her. Lightning was easy to be around. She'd been so sure. She'd kissed Rainbow goodbye on the back of being so sure and now Rainbow was standing there dismantling the whole thing in one sentence and Applejack didn't know what to believe anymore. 

“…don’t,” she said, shaking her head once, already retreating. “Don’t do that, Dash, I ain’t–”

“I’m not messing with you.” Rainbow stepped forward now, closing some of the distance she’d been holding onto like a shield. 

Applejack was backed to the window now, and there was nowhere to look but Rainbow. The evening light caught the edges of her, and she looked so unbearably sincere that it made Applejack's chest ache. 

“But you said all those things.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said, softer now, but no less sure. “About you.”

That landed harder than anything else.

Applejack felt it move through her slowly. Every stupid hopeful feeling she'd talked herself out of for months rose back up all at once, and she didn't have the energy to push them back down. So she let them spill.

“I thought…” she started, then stopped, voice catching on something she didn’t want to name. “I thought I was losin’ you.”

Rainbow’s expression softened. 

“You weren’t,” she said, quieter now. “I was trying to tell you.”

Applejack huffed out something that might’ve been a laugh if it didn’t sound so wrecked. “Hell of a way of tellin’ me.”

“Yeah?” Rainbow shot back, the edge slipping back in just enough to keep it real. “You kissed me and then told me to go home.”

Applejack flinched. “I thought you wanted someone else.”

Rainbow was close now. Close enough that Applejack could see her chest rising and falling. Close enough that the past day of distance between them felt ridiculous, felt impossible, felt like something neither of them could maintain for one more second.

“I don’t.”

She had an intense look on her face, and it was the same look she'd never been able to interpret, the one that showed up in lamplight and rainstorms and algebra homework, and she finally understood what it meant. 

She didn’t get a chance to name it in her head though, because Rainbow pulled her down by the flannel and stopped her thoughts altogether.

Rainbow kissed her like she meant it all the way down, like she'd been waiting and was finally done and Applejack felt it everywhere, in her chest, behind her eyes, down to her boots. Her knees did something embarrassing that she was never going to acknowledge out loud. 

Dash pushed her hands into AJ’s hair, knocking her hat off and deepening the kiss. Applejack couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her lips, and Rainbow made a small irritated sound before claiming her lips again.

So Applejack lifted her hands to Rainbow’s face and put her all into the kiss. All the months of it, all the wanting she'd talked herself out of and swallowed down and filed away. She poured it all in and hoped Rainbow could feel it because she didn't have words big enough for it. 

If the sound she made into it was any indication, Rainbow felt it. 

Suddenly, Rainbow’s grip on the flannel loosened, slowly, like she was remembering they had time now. Like she was reminding herself that this wasn't going anywhere. The kiss shifted with it, going softer, slower, and somehow that was worse and better all at once because it meant Rainbow was thinking too. Was choosing this just as deliberately as she was.

Applejack’s hand found the fabric of her shirt and held on, because she’d never been good at letting her go anyway.

When they finally broke apart they didn't go far. Foreheads together, both of them just breathed each other’s air in the quiet of the room. Rainbow’s hand had moved from her flannel to her face, thumb resting light against her cheek, and she didn't move it now.

Then she laughed.

Despite not knowing why, Applejack felt the smile against her own mouth before she could stop it. “What?”

"Nothing." Rainbow pulled back just enough to look at her properly, eyes bright, the last traces of the argument gone completely. She didn't let go of AJ’s face. “You're such an idiot.”

Applejack couldn't really argue that, all things considered.

She became very aware of Rainbow’s thumb moving on her cheek. Slow and absent and unbearably familiar, the same way it had moved against her hand on the carpet hours ago while she'd talked about someone Applejack now knew was her.

“Yeah, well,” she said. “That’s a pretty mean thing to say to your girlfriend.”

Rainbow blinked.

Applejack blinked right back, realizing what had just come out of her mouth.

Then Rainbow broke into the biggest grin Applejack had ever seen.

“Oh my god,” she said. “Is this you asking me out?”

“Maybe,” she replied, and her voice cracked only a little. 

Rainbow's grin didn't shrink. If anything it got bigger. Applejack looked at her, at the bright eyes and the hand still warm on her face, and felt something settle so completely in her chest it was almost funny it had taken this long.

“Are you gonna answer or not?”

Rainbow’s hands wrapped around her neck, and she leaned in and gave her another brief kiss. “Obviously,” she said against her mouth.

With a smile on her lips, Applejack closed the gap between them again.