Applejack kept her eyes firmly fixed on her plate, as she continued shoveling apple cinnamon flapjacks into her mouth. She said not a word.
From the other side of the kitchen table, her grandmother sighed. “You ain’t said three words to me all morning,” the older mare grumbled, “and we both knows what we both knows. So ye might as well come out with whatever it is you need to get off yer chest.”
“All night! All night long, right next to my own bedroom!” Applejack slammed both front hooves down on the table and lifted her head. Granny Smith was scowling, ever so slightly, and Applejack scowled right back. “She ain’t even half yer age, Granny!”
“That don’t matter none. I ain’t no spring chicken, but I also ain’t dead!”
The younger pony gave a snort. “It ain’t just the age thing. She’s just … she’s … it just plumb don’t make any sense, you and her.”
Applejack shut her eyes. Tried to ignore the way her heart was pounding in her chest, the way her hooves were slightly shaking. She’d been annoyed last night, and she’d been annoyed this morning, by all the sounds she hadn’t wanted to hear and all the visuals she hadn’t wanted to imagine. But that tone in her granny’s voice, so strangely soft and terrifying vulnerable, washed away that annoyance with all the ease of a hurricane taking out a beaver dam.
The clock on the wall—the one Applejack’s grandfather had given her granny on their thirtieth wedding anniversary, according to her mama—ticked off the seconds. Each one sounded loud as a gunshot in the otherwise silent kitchen.
Finally, not opening her eyes, Applejack whispered, “Granny … Granny, do you love her?”
Granny Smith didn’t answer.
Which, really, was an answer in and of itself.
---
As soon as Applejack stepped through the front door of Sugarcube Corner, the entire bakery went as still and as silent as a graveyard. A flare of anger surged through the earth pony’s veins, as she wondered if the entire town knew about what her granny’d been getting up to, but she shoved that aside. That wasn’t important, and that wasn’t why she was here.
She took a few deep, calming breaths and then marched straight up to the bakery’s counter. She slammed a hoof down on the bell that sat there, hard enough that she could feel it crack a bit as it rang out.
“Hiya! Welcome to Sugarcube …”
The pink earth pony who came prancing out of the kitchen froze as soon as she spotted Applejack standing in front of her. The smile stayed on her face, a terrible rictus grin, while a dozen different emotions flashed through those deceptively innocent blue eyes.
Applejack didn’t smile back.
“Heya, AJ!” Pinkie’s voice trembled with false cheer. “I’m super duper glad to see—”
“Quit it.” With a stern glare, Applejack leaned forward. “You know ‘xactly why I’m here, so let’s git to it.” Then, after glancing over her shoulder at the bakery’s staring patrons, she added, “You got anywhere we can talk a bit more private-like?”
Pinkie hesitated, just a moment, before she gave a small nod. Then she turned around and headed back into the kitchen. Applejack followed right on her heels.
“The Cakes are out of town today,” Pinkie said quietly, her back still facing toward her friend. “So it’s just us.”
Applejack flexed her jaw. It was feeling awfully tight. “All right, then. Let’s get down to it. I don’t want you messin’ with my granny any more, y’hear me?”
“I … I can’t promise that.”
A second, stronger spike of anger, one which was harder to rein in. “Can’t? Or won’t?”
“B-both.”
“Darn it, Pinkie, this ain’t no game! My granny, she’s … she’s actually sweet on ya!”
At that, Pinkie Pie turned around and, when she did, Applejack saw a steely determination on that pink face that reminded her more than a bit of the way Twilight Sparkle looked during a crisis. Applejack didn’t care to admit it, even to herself, but she found the look that Pinkie was giving her to be slightly unnerving.
“Well, maybe I’m sweet on her too!” said Pinkie, her voice as full of steel as her eyes. “Maybe I think she’s one of the most super amazingest ponies I’ve ever met, and maybe she thinks I’m pretty super and amazing too!”
---time limit---
She faltered here, seemingly, and began swallowing rapidly. Just as Applejack was opening her mouth to reply, however, Pinkie continued on, “Maybe we spent most of last night talking about our families and how much we miss ponies we can’t see anymore. Maybe we talked about how knowing when it’s time for zap apples might be kinda like knowing there’s gonna be a doozy. Maybe we talked about how sad it makes us sometimes when ponies don’t think you can do things you know you totally can do.”
Applejack slowly clenched and unclenched her jaw. “Is that all so?” was the only thing she said in response.
Pinkie nodded. She took a small, hesitant step forward. “And maybe … and maybe we talked about how the only thing keeping us from being the happiest two ponies ever was worrying that we’d be hurting a pony we both love a whole, whole lot.”
The farm pony stared down at the floor. She kicked a hoof along the kitchen tiles, mostly for lack of something better to do. She had never been a pony who’d been good with words. She was a work horse, meant for kicking and hauling and pushing and running. All this standing still and gabbing away was downright unnatural, and the topic of conversation didn’t help matters any.
Plus, the kitchen of Sugarcube Corner was stifling and sweltering hot. She’d never known how Pinkie could stand working back here all day long, but somehow, the bubbly baker not only survived but thrived working in this environment. Different strokes for different folks, she supposed.
With a tired sigh, Applejack glanced back up. Pinkie Pie was staring at her, unblinking and anxious, and gently rocking back and forth on her hooves.
“I ain’t sayin’ yes, mind ya …”
Pinkie’s ears perked up even as the rest of her body went completely still.
“ … but I guess I ain’t sayin’ no.”
*********************************************
RWL's Commentary
Grannypie! Not a ship you see sailing around very often, nor one I imagine most people expect to see, but you make it work very well here. Applejack's confusion is easy to understand, but seeing how happy Granny Smith is, and hearing from Pinkie how they got together and why, is all very convincing. They sound really sweet together. Wonderful work!
