"I'm so sorry, Cheerilee. It ain't gonna happen again."

"I should hope not," the teacher answered as she turned her frown to Apple Bloom. "I expected better of you."

"So did I," Applejack said with a matching expression. Her sister shrank a little under the adults' glare. "You were raised better'n that! What d'you have to say for yerself, huh?"

Biting her lip, Apple Bloom tried to straighten her back, and after a few moments she blurted "But she... she deserved it, AJ!"

"Nopony deserves to be hit in the face like that," Cheerliee said sternly.

"I didn't hit her! I slapped her! It's different!" she protested. "It didn't even leave a mark!"

Applejack sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Bloom, couldja... couldja maybe go get me a glass of water? The sun was real killer on the way over."

Her ears flopped down as she hung her head, but she mumbled "Okay" and shuffled out of the room, letting Applejack close the door behind her. Once she was gone, Applejack groaned and stretched out her back with a few audible pops. "Y'mind if I sit down, Cheerilee? I'm carryin' quite a load here."

"Oh! Of course not. Please," she said as she rose from the large padded chair, "make yourself at home."

She watched as Applejack carefully eased herself back into the seat, shifting to and fro before she found a comfortable position; sitting slouched back like Lyra did look awkward, but it took the heavy weight of her belly off of her spine. "Ah, much better. Thanks."

Cheerilee put a hoof on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry to have called you in, Applejack, but---"

"Nah, I'm the one who should be sorry. I jes' don't know what got into her!"

"Neither do I," she said as she shook her head. "She's never lashed out like this before."

"Well..." Applejack looked away, her face flushed a little. "She, uh, she was the last to hear about the baby, an' she ain't been takin' it too well."

"I see."

"That ain't an excuse, mind you," she added quickly.

"Of course not, Applejack," Cherrilee said, and moved her hoof a little lower down her foreleg. "Um, this might not be appropriate, but would you mind if I...?"

Applejack laughed when she saw the magenta hoof hovering over the swell of her belly. "Ah, go ahead! Most ponies don't even bother askin'---they jes' come up and start rubbin' me."

She smiled as she pressed the underside of her hoof against Applejack's coat. "That must be annoying."

"You have no idea. I feel like I'm in a pettin' zoo." She smirked. "Now I think I know how zebras feel when ponies touch their manes."

"What do you do when they invade your space like that?"

Applejack smiled as Cheerilee rubbed little circles against her. "If it's a mare doin' it, I rub her right back. If it's a stallion, I tell him he ain't allowed to touch it if he ain't the one who put it there."

Cheerilee's nervous laugh was cut off by Apple Bloom bumping the door open with her flank. "Here's yer drink, AJ," she said, splashing a little on her forehead as she trotted over. "I used a glass from the cafeteria... hope that's okay, Miss Cheerilee."

"Of course it is."

The water was tepid, but it still felt wonderfully soothing as it went down her dry throat.

"So, uh... am I in trouble?" she asked.

"You bet you are." With a groan, Applejack pushed herself out of the chair and got to her hooves. "We're gonna have a long talk on the way home."

"Okay," she said with a pout.

Apple Bloom kept her head low as she shuffled out of Cheerilee's office. She normally had to trot to keep up with her sister, but Applejack wasn't moving as fast as she used to. The very thought made her sigh. It wasn't as if the filly had never seen a pregnant mare before, but seeing that distended belly on her own kin was upsetting. Threatening, even. She'd always been the baby.

"Well, missy, you better have a good explanation fer what you did," Applejack said without looking back.

"Silver Spoon's a bitch! That's yer explanation!"

She immediately clapped a hoof over her own mouth, but instead of a reprimand, she got a chuckle.

"I know that, Bloom. Heck, everypony knows that. But that ain't a good enough reason to smack
her in the face."

"But, Applejack, she called you a whore!" she yelled, on the brink of tears. "She said yer like a train that anypony could ride!"

Applejack stopped short. "What?!"

Wiping at her moist eyes, she went on: "She, she even said I'm probably yer daughter and you went an' covered it up!"

"Apple Bloom," she said as evenly as she could manage, "Y'know that ain't true. We're sisters."

"I know! But---but--- I jes' got so mad I slapped her! I wasn't thinkin'!" She slumped down on her haunches. "It hurt so bad t'hear..."

She put a hoof on her shoulder. "Hey. Y'ever heard 'Sticks and stones may break my bones'..."

"Yeah," she said dejectedly.

"Well, whoever wrote that stupid lil' poem had his head stuck for far up his own butt he can see what he had fer breakfast."

Apple Bloom looked up in surprise.

"Listen, Bloom," she said as she pulled her sister close, "I know words can hurt. But y'can't go resortin' to violence when they do."

She began to sniffle. "Are ya mad at me?"

"No. I'm disappointed, but I ain't mad." Applejack sighed and put her chin on Apple Bloom's head, right on the knot of her bow. She knew it would catch up to her sister someday, but she wasn't about to tell her about the stares, the whispers, the outright hostility she herself had been facing for the past few months. She just hoped the rumours of the foal's sire hadn't yet gotten around to the younger generation. "There's a lotta small-minded ponies out there who'll say nasty stuff, but y'gotta learn to let it go."

"But..."

"Now, yer gonna calm yerself down, and then march right over to Silver Spoon's house and apologize."

"But she started it!"

Applejack pulled out of the hug and smiled. "And yer gonna say 'I'm sorry fer how I responded to yer rudeness. Next time I'll use my words instead a' my hoof'."

Apple Bloom blinked a few times, the tears clearing out of her eyes, and then grinned. "You got it, sis!"

With a swat on her flank, she said "An' you hurry back home, now! Big MacIntosh's makin' dinner."

She watched as her little sister trotted off, her head held higher than Applejack's own. She looked over at Mane Street, and then to the dusty trail that lead around the outskirts of Ponyville. It was probably best to take the long way home; she didn't want anypony to see her crying.

***

She'd barely gotten the front door open when Winona nearly bowled her over, yapping and lathering her face with dog drool.

"Whoa! Easy there, girl!" Applejack laughed and rubbed her hoof through the scruffy brown coat. "I was only gone a little while!"

She was surprised when her dog bolted away and made a beeline for the nearest tree; she squatted and let loose a stream of piss she'd obviously been holding for awhile.

That's odd, she thought. Big MacIntosh was supposed to let her out over an hour ago.

"Howdy! I'm back!" she called into the house. "Y'forgot to let Winona out, ya big knucklehead!"

The only sounds were Granny's snoring and the ticking of the clock.

"Hello? Anypony home?" She trotted into the kitchen, unconsciously chewing on her bottom lip. She couldn't quite tell what it was, but something felt... off. Since it was his turn to make dinner, she decided to look for him in the kitchen, following what seemed like the lingering smell of cooking. "Mac, are..."

Applejack froze in the kitchen doorway. A couple of pizza boxes were on the table---and her brother never, ever resorted to serving his family fast food when he'd promised to cook. A little prickle of worry started working its way up her back when she noticed a folded note on top of one of the boxes, next to a small pile of bits.

She unfolded the little slip of paper and frowned. The terse message only made her worry grow:

Sorry about dinner. Something came up. I'll be back in a day or so. Here's money to hire help until I get back.

She flipped it over, but that's all he wrote. The writing was sloppy---even for an Earth pony---and he hadn't bothered to sign it.

"What kind of rush was he in?" she mumbled.

Cold fear suddenly stabbed her like a dagger. Her brother was not the type to just abandon his responsibilities and go running off on a whim, unless---Applejack grimaced. Unless something really important happened. And he wrote that he'd be gone for at least a day, meaning he was now probably well on his way to another town.

Her legs began to shake as the pieces fell together. He hadn't quite been himself since the beginning of her pregnancy, and the sulking wasn't the worst part; he'd been spending at least an hour every night obsessively writing letters, and refusing to tell her what they were about. Now he was gone, on some apparently urgent business---

She was at a full gallop before she even realized it, head down and her ears blowing back into her mane as she charged toward the barn. "He didn't!" she panted. "No way! He wouldn't really---!"

Her heart plummeted when she kicked the barn door open.

There were two empty hooks and a dusty outline where the shotgun used to be.

***

"Can I help you, sir?" the receptionist said with a practiced sweetness.

"Eeyup." He approached the counter, easily looking over it. "I'm lookin' for a guest here. Got a message for him. Goes by the name of Flim."

"Just a moment, please."

As she flipped through the guestbook, Big MacIntosh glanced over his shoulder. He was glad he'd gotten here late; the lobby was empty save for himself and some gangly colt pushing a broom. The last thing he needed was a slew of witnesses.

The receptionist tapped her hoof against a page dated a day or two prior. "Yes, he is a guest here. You said you'd like to leave a message for him?"

"What's his room number?"

"Is he expecting you?"

"Uh... nope."

"Well," she said, sliding a clipboard and a quill over to him, "You may write the message here and we'll be sure to get it to him as soon as possible."

"Prefer t'do it face-to-face." He tried not to frown. "It's, uh, personal. What room's he in?"

"The confidentiality of our guests is very important to us," she said smoothly. The smile was still there, but it had tightened. "I assure you nopony will read the message but your friend."

After a moment of silence, he put a hoof on the clipboard and pulled it closer. 'Friend'. Hah! "Sure. Thanks."

"You're very welcome." She went back to polishing the emery board against her already-glossy hooftip.

She didn't look up until the sounds of scribbling and shuffling around ended and he slid the clipboard back to her; when she picked it up, however, she gasped, letting the emery board clatter to the counter. Paper money was rare in Equestria, reserved for higher denominations only. Clipped onto the paper were several bills, under which was written 'Go buy yourself something pretty'.

"I... see," she said slowly. "This is... certainly an interesting message."

"Eeyup."

This time the smile was genuine. "I'll be sure to get it to room 1367 after I get back from the spa."

***

"Apple Bloom, quit pickin' at yer pizza an' eat it," Applejack snapped.

The filly spat another mushroom slice onto the little pile she'd made at the side of her plate. "But I hate mushrooms! Big MacIntosh knows that!"

"I guess he wasn't thinkin' straight," she muttered. Even though she normally hated garlic and raw onion, she was on her seventh slice. The jam she'd spread on top helped a little.

"This ain't right," Granny said. "What coulda possessed him t'jes' take off?"

Applejack quickly took a swig of her milk to avoid having to answer. She hadn't told the rest of her family about the shotgun, and she decided it was best to keep it that way... for now, at least.

"Look," she said after she'd swallowed, "He didn't jes' bolt fer no reason. He thought this through, takin' the time to get us dinner an' leave some bits. I'll go into town first thing tomorrow an' round up some help."

"I don't even like thinkin' about where he is right now," Granny sighed. "I sure hope he ain't doin' somethin' stupid."

You and me both, she thought grimly.

****

The door creaked open and a stallion peered at him over the chain, but... it wasn't the one he was looking for. Just as Big MacIntosh was about to apologize, he heard a voice from inside the room that made his ears flatten against his head.

"Ugh, it's after midnight! Who the hell is knocking at this hour?"

"Uh..." the pegasus at the door was flicking his eyes from the Earth pony's face to the shotgun at his side. "It's a big angry stallion with a gun...?"

"Oh. That's probably for me," Flim said with a surprising ease as he sat up in bed. "Who is he?"

"I don't know," he said, "But he sure looks pissed."

"What else does he look like? C'mon, help me out here." Flim groaned and rubbed his head; this guy may be talented in other respects, but he sure wasn't very bright.

"He's huge, and he has a red coat, a short orange mane, freckles---"

The first jab of fear hit him in the gut. "And he's wearing a wooden work collar, right?"

The pegasus grinned. "Hey, good guess!"

"Shit piss tittyfuck!" Flim began scrambling with the blankets, frantically kicking and bucking; he had no idea how he always got himself so tangled up.

"You know him?"

"Close the door!" he shouted, throwing the coverlet off.

Before he could, one swift kick from Big MacIntosh sent it flying open, snapping the weak chain like a rubber band. The pegasus shrieked and took to the air as the angry stallion below him came stomping in.

Flim grunted as he forced the window open. "You're on your own!" he shouted over his shoulder before looking down at the busy streets below... very, very far below.

"Ugh," he muttered as he slumped back in the room. "'Let's get rooms on the thirteenth floor!' I said. 'It's never crowded on the thirteenth floor!' I said." He turned to the pegasus and began waving. "Hey, wings, help me out here!"

"I have a name," he said indignantly. He was hovering near the ceiling, far enough that Big MacIntosh couldn't reach him; he hadn't noticed yet that the gun-toting stallion underneath him wasn't paying him any attention. "And you were just going to leave me here with this lunatic!"

"I... I knew you could fly to safety," he stammered. It was partially true, but to be honest, he hadn't been thinking that far ahead.

"I can't outfly a bullet, genius!"

"I ain't gonna shoot you," he said as evenly as he could. He was looking across the room at Flim, and he didn't like what he saw; his eyes were darting back and forth, as if he was thinking something up. "He's what I came here for."

"Look, Big... whatever your name is, I did nothing wrong," he said, backing up.

His words came out like thin ice. "You took advantage of my sister when she was drunk."

"Wait, his sister?" That came from the third wheel, who was still staying out of harm's way.

"This is just a misunderstanding," Flim went on without breaking eye contact with Big MacIntosh. He also hadn't stopped scootching backwards. "We were both drunk. She wanted it as much as I did."

"Okay, seriously, what's going on here?"

Flim gritted his teeth. So much for trying ignore the other stallion in the room. "I don't know."

"You got two choices," the Earth pony said. "One, you come with me. Two, you go somewhere that's a lot hotter than it is here."

"You mean Tartarus?"

"Would you shut up?!" Flim shouted as his back hit the corner. "Can't you see this is between the two of us?"

Big MacIntosh now had the barrel of the gun a foot from the cream-coloured muzzle. "Well?"

The pegasus cocked his head down at them both. "Uh, you know murder is illegal, right?"

"Oh, just go!" Flim snapped. "You're a nice fellow, I suppose, but you're about as sharp as a sack of wet mice!"

He gasped, looking far more affronted than he should. "Well, you know what I think?"

"Not much, apparently!"

"I think you're an asshole," he said, moving between Flim and Big MacIntosh. He settled on his hooves and pushed his face up against Flim's. "And I hope he does shoot you! Who is he, anyway? Your husband?"

"Ugh!" Mac winced, but he didn't lower the gun. That was an image that wouldn't soon leave him.

"Oh please. You could do worse than me," Flim snorted. It probably wasn't a good idea to push his luck, but... "Your sister didn't seem to mind."

Had he not still been recoiling from the thought of being married to the stallion he hated most right now, he probably would have pulled the trigger. Instead he cocked the gun and aimed. "About that."

"You know what?" the pegasus said. "This is getting weird. I'm out."

"Thank you," Flim said as he watched him fly off, shaking his head.

"Get up," he said, gesturing with the gun. "Get to yer hooves."

He did, but kept one held up in front of him. "Now, before you think of firing that thing, well, uh, we weren't the only show in town, you know. The Wonderbolts are here too. In this hotel, specifically."

He tried not to smile as he saw the gun lowering an inch. "One shot and they'll be here in a flash. If I'm splattered against the wall, you'll have murder on your hooves. As it is, you have breaking and entering," he added, looking at the broken chain swinging from the door.

The gun lowered another inch, but Flim knew he had to tread carefully. "Now, put the gun down and we'll talk this over, hm? I know you're not big on that, but..."

The gun was back up in a flash. "The second I put this down, I know yer gonna try somethin'," he said. "I saw you schemin' over there."

"Scheming? I wasn't scheming!" he said, trying not to look down the barrel. "I was thinking!"

"About what?"

"Why you're here, for one." He frowned. "I didn't rape her, for Celestia's sake!"

"I know. She told me you didn't."

"Then why are you waving that thing around?"

"Ain't figured it out yet?" he said, nostrils flaring. "Applejack's pregnant."

He blinked. "Wh.... she... ?"

"Pregnant. And it's yours."

At first he thought Flim was rolling his eyes, but then they kept rolling right back up in his head. "Wh... but... I...." The colour drained from his face, and after wobbling back and forth a few times he slumped down bonelessly to the floor.

"Huh," he muttered, unimpressed. He kicked at the unicorn's haunches a couple of times but got no response.

"Hey, you still here?"

Big MacIntosh jumped and turned to the door. The pegasus was back with a sheepish smile.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for calling you a lunatic. I didn't---oh sweet Celestia, you shot him?!" He blew into the room like a hurricane and landed on top of Flim's uninjured, if unconscious, body. "Oh no! No, no no! I didn't think you'd really do it!"

"I didn't!"

He picked up one of Flim's limp legs and let it flop back down. "Is he dead?!"

Mac looked down at the shotgun, which was devoid of any smoke, up at the clean, bloodless walls, and then back at the unicorn on the floor, who was wheezing lightly through his open mouth. "He fainted," he said flatly.

"Oh." The pegasus chuckled a little as he blushed. "I guess I am a bit of an idiot."

Author's Notes:

Heh. Flim and I swear the same way when we're startled.

Sorry this chapter started off a little sad---things will pick up!