“Good morning!” Applejack rested her drink on the counter and smiled at the receptionist. “I’m jes’ signin’ in to visit a friend a’mine. Room 103 in the I.C.U.?”

She nodded politely. “How nice! You’re the second guest he’s had today.”

Her ears squashed against her head. “Uh… really?”

“Yes. His brother can in a little while ago, I believe.”

“Oh.” She scooped her travel mug back up, trying to hide her disappointment. “Well, if he’s busy I’ll come back again---“

“Not at all.” Tapping at the logbook, she slid over a quill. “I think he forgot to sign out, but I am fairly certain I saw him leave. Just write your name and the time down there, Miss Apple.”

As she was dotting her second initial, her ears flicked up when the receptionist added “Is that coffee you’re drinking?”

“Yeah, it’s coffee. Why?”

She tittered, waving a hoof. “Oh, it’s just---I don’t know how much you know about this, honey, but coffee’s not recommended for a mare in your situation---“

“Ma’am, are you a doctor?!”

She recoiled with a gasp, and a few other receptionists glanced their way. “N-no, but---“

“Then I suggest you get back t’signin’ ponies in an’ waterin’ plants. When I want medical advice, I’ll go t’spomepony who went to college fer it!”

She snatched up her drink and went off stamping down the hall. Great. Her good mood was almost entirely ruined. Why were these little things getting so under her skin? First half the town buzzing about her, strangers on the street feeling entitled to just grope at her belly, then Twilight treating her like a science experiment, and now this? She had seven more months of this to put up with! And what about the birth itself? She sincerely hoped it would happen at night, at home… oh gods, what if her water broke in a grocery store or at a movie theatre? She knew she’d never hear the end of it.

“I hope yer not plannin’ on makin’ a grand entrance,” she muttered at her midsection. Ma hadn’t been able to show her face in Ponyville for months after Big MacIntosh was born---right smack dab in the middle of town square due to an embarrassing miscalculation. ‘Not too far from where we made him,’ she’d always say, much to her children’s consternation. (Applejack never did drink out of that fountain again).

After steeling herself, she took a quick peek into the room. Oh, thank Celestia---Flam wasn’t there. She just wasn't up for dealing with him yet. It had been humiliating enough that he'd caught them covered in each others' fluids... Her cheeks flushed with heat when she realized she hadn't had to chance to clean herself off before running into Twilight. She'd either not noticed, or been too polite to mention it.

She hesitated at the doorway when something struck her---would Twilight even recognize the smell of a stallion's 'enthusiasm'? It only just now dawned on her how little she knew about her friend’s past; even at those cider-fueled sleepover parties, Twilight was the only one who didn't divulge much about her private life. The only thing she'd confessed was that she felt uncomfortable dating now that she was an alicorn, but, still... Applejack couldn't remember ever seeing her on another pony's arm, even when she was still a unicorn. She grinned a bit when she remembered a joke she’d heard at the Canterlot wedding from an inebriated guest who probably regretted it later: What’s the first thing a student at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns does when she wakes up? She walks back home. If that school’s reputation was true, there was little chance Twilight was still a virgin.

Well. It’s none a’my business, anyway.

She smiled when she saw Flim with a book propped up on his knees; even though he was holding it with his hooves, his horn was alight, and the swirls of green magic between the pages suggested he was fiddling with something hidden by the covers.

"Sugarcube?"

She barely managed to get a glimpse of "Daring Do and the..." before he slammed the book shut. "A-Applejack!"

"Sorry if I was interruptin' somethin'," she said as she made her way into the room.

“No, not at all,” he said as he pushed the book safely into the drawer. “I, er, I just got some reading material to pass the time… I didn’t know you’d be back so soon.”

“I won’t keep ya long,” she replied with a warm smile. She made the mistake of struggling into the bedside chair while simultaneously reaching into her saddlebag, and she probably would have slumped to the floor if it hadn’t been for his magic grabbing her around what was left of her waist.

Flim clucked his tongue as she grunted, shifting her weight back and forth. “You really should be more careful, sweetheart.”

“Says the pony whose gash is bigger’n mine.”

He made a sound that was halfway between a snort and a cough, but she’d seen the smile he’d tried to hide.

“I got somethin’ t’show ya.” Now that she was settled on the chair, it was easier to pry open the buckles and pull out the first sonogram print; she used her frog to smooth out the crinkled corners, and placed it on Flim’s lap. “Guess who!”

He blinked a few times, and then, just like she had done earlier, carefully placed his hoof over the image, right over the fuzzy blob indicating where the fetus’ heart was. Then he glanced up at her, his eyes wide.

“Yup,” Applejack said, “That’s her. I woulda brought it by yesterday, but I kinda got dragged back home by an over-enthusiastic friend.”

He didn’t say anything, instead turning his eyes back to the picture. She began to point out what she could remember: “I know it’s kinda hard t’see, but that thing there? That’s the placenta. And this ain’t a dick; it’s the umbilical cord. The doc said everything’s all right.”

His lips moved silently for a few moments before he finally spoke. “She’s…?”

She gestured at the rump. "An’ look down there. See what's under the tail?"

He squinted, tilting the picture slightly. "No."

"Exactly," she grinned. "Nothin' there. It's a filly fer sure, now."

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and again he lifted a hoof to touch the grainy image. "She looks more like a shrimp than a filly."

Applejack rubbed her fetlocks against her belly. It seemed like every day her hide was being pulled tighter and tighter, and she was sure she could feel the ripples of stretch marks forming under her coat. "Well, the bun ain't cooked yet."

"And the knot isn't tied, either," he said, flipping to the next image. "The weekend's over---why isn't your brother here with a judge and a paper for us to sign?"

"Uh… I ain't exactly sure," she mumbled. He was still staring at the printouts, so she didn't have to worry about avoiding his eye. She'd been prickling with worry all morning, but breakfast had come and gone without so much as a word from Big MacIntosh. Normally that wouldn't have been out of the ordinary, but ever since she got up she'd been waiting for him to bring up the subject of marriage. It was like a sword dangling over her head, making each bite of food go down her throat with a bitter scratchiness. Not only had he remained silent, but he’d avoided her gaze altogether; she sincerely doubted he'd forgotten about his plan... but she wasn't about to bank on him having changed his mind, either.

She jerked back to attention when his hoof came to rest on hers.

“It doesn’t matter,” Flim said gently. “Even if he does show up, there isn’t much he can do.”

“What d’you mean by that?”

He nodded his head towards his I.V. “They’ve still got me on painkillers. They’re a form of opiate. It’s not enough to make me feel drunk, but still---nopony can sign a legally-binding document if they’re under the influence.”

It wasn’t exactly jovial, but she did laugh a little. “Aw, shoot, Flim! Leave it t’you to think of a loophole like that.”

His fetlocks curled around her ankle, and he pulled her hoof onto his lap, right over the picture of their daughter.

“That’s… that’s actually kind of cute.”

“What is?”

He wasn’t exactly avoiding her eye, but he was chewing on his lip, a slight blush covering his cheeks. “Loophole. It’s cute.”

“Flim, I don’t follow---“

“That was my mother’s name.”

She half-gasped, her breath catching in her lungs. It stayed there for a few pulsing heartbeats. Without releasing her hoof, Flim turned his attention back to the sonogram. “They used to call her Loopy.”

Twilight had told her all about embryonic development, how the unborn were unconscious for most of their growth, how they couldn’t really understand anything that was going on---but, as if on cue, her little ‘shrimp’ did a somersault.

“Loopy…?”

“It’s sweet, isn’t it?”

She let her eyes, which had gotten all misty, drift down to the taut curve of her belly. “Flim…”

“I know what you’re going to say,” he said as he pulled his hoof away from hers, “And, honestly, I don’t blame you. You don’t want to name her after---“

“Flim?”

They both turned towards the source of the voice, and gasped in unison. The mare at the door nervously pushed her thick, rhinestone-studded sunglasses up the bridge of her nose, and puffed a little breath out the sides of her mouth, fluffing the edges of her black mane.

“Oh, sweet Celestia,” she said as she strode into the room. “Flim! Honeybun! What did they do to you?!”

Applejack grunted as she was elbowed in the ribs, the mare squeezing her cloaked side against her to put both forelegs on the mattress. Before Flim could properly react, she’d grabbed his face in her hooves, squeezing his cheeks together. “Just look at you!” she squealed. “I haven’t seen you this beaten-up since---since---“

“Since he ruined his brother’s wedding?”

She looked up sharply, and Applejack could see her eyes narrow behind her shades. “How do you know about that?” she said with ice in her voice.

“He told me.”

“I’m sure he’s told you a lot of things.” Her eyes wandered to the bed, where their clasped hooves were still resting, and then slid over to Applejack’s belly. Her eyebrows raised a bit, but she didn’t otherwise react. When she turned her attention back to him, her expression sweetened considerably, and she patted his head. “Flimmy here has some very loose lips. They get him in an awful lot of trouble.”

“Wasn’t his lips that got him into trouble this time.”

“What did get you into trouble?” she asked, turning her back to Applejack. “Flam told me you’d been coltnapped! Have the authorities been notified?”

“Excuse me, miss,” she said tightly. “We were kind of havin’ a private visit---“

With a dismissive wave, she replied “Well, you can leave now. A pony in his position should only be visited by family members.”

Applejack folded her ankles over her belly. Oh, no. No way was she leaving now. “And y’all are family?”

“Yes, we are. I’m his---“ She faltered a bit, her mouth moving soundlessly, but quickly recovered: “His sister. I’m his sister.”

“Oh yeah?” She stole a glance at Flim, who looked like he wasn’t sure if this was really happening. “’Cause he told me his sister’s fourteen years older than him…” Should I, or shouldn’t I? “…and you, miss, don’t look like yer a day over thirty-five.”

“I’m twenty-seven,” she said through gritted teeth.

She smiled smugly, and Flim put a hoof over his mouth. “Still too young t’be his sister, dontcha think?”

“Half-sister, if you must know,” she snapped. “We, uh, had different mothers.”

Oh, this was far too much fun. What little of her face was visible was turning from blue to purple. “Really? How’s that work, considerin’ he don’t even know who his father is?”

Her face was right up in Applejack’s so suddenly she almost toppled the chair over. “Oh, you think you know him, do you, you little hick? I’ve known him since we were kids! I grew up with him! Tell me one thing you know about him! One thing! I bet you can’t even do that! His favourite colour is yellow, he was born on June 10th, he hates the white streaks in his hair, he carries around a picture of his mother, and he makes noises like a dying caribou when he gets really excited! I bet you didn’t know that, did you?!”

“Actually, I did,” she answered. By now Flim was trying so hard not to laugh it looked like he was having a stroke. “But is that last bit somethin’ a sister would know about her brother?”

Her jaw dropped open, but it snapped shut again with a nasty grimace. “You tell me! I’ve heard the rumours about you!” Pointing at Applejack’s belly, she added “How do I know that isn’t because of your brother? And what about that little inbred ‘sister’ of yours, hm? I know what you mud ponies get up to---“

CRACK.

Her hoof was in the air, shaking. She didn’t realize what she’d just done until Flim’s hoof on her shoulder pressed her back into her seat.

The wig had gone askew when her head was slapped to the side, and when she slowly turned back to face them, her eyes were burning under a curtain of silvery hair. “You’ll pay for that.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna hit me, Trixie? You gonna fight me like you did that Ursa Minor?!”

“Fuck you! I could wrap you up like a napkin!”

“Then come at me, you racist bitch!”

“Ladies, that’s enough.” Flim leaned over as far as he could and put a foreleg between the two snarling mares.

“You stay outta this!”

“Applejack, sit your ass down!”

Well, shit! She was so startled she did so. That was the first time she’d ever heard him give her a direct order---well, aside from---

But Flim wasn’t paying attention to her, instead gesturing toward their guest. “And you, Trixie! Either apologize, right now, or get your ass out of here before I have to smack you into next week!”

She gasped, raising a hoof to her heart. “You wouldn’t hit a lady!”

“A lady? You really think you qualify for that kind of title? Now apologize!”

“I will not!” She stamped a back hoof, folding the arms of her sunglasses and slipping them over the twist in her cloak. “I stand by what I said, and so should you! Look at her. Pregnant, probably unshod, and I don’t see any sort of jewelry on her, do you? You should know better than to associate with somepony like that!”

“Oh, you’re a fine one to talk, little miss crawling-all-over-her-brother-in-law! Do you have any idea what that did to Flam? Do you?”

Trixie jumped back, looking even more hurt than when she was struck.

“No, of course you don’t,” he snapped. “Because if you really cared about anypony besides yourself, you wouldn’t have stomped all over his heart like that!”

“THAT WAS A MISTAKE!” She quickly turned her back to them, but they’d both seen the tears on her cheeks. “Honestly, I make one mistake in my life---“

“ONE mistake?!” they both shouted.

“I thought you were him,” she said, slowly turning. She’d done her best to wipe the tears away, but she wasn’t wearing as much mascara as she had been when she walked in. “And in answer to your question, yes, I do know what that did to him.”

“How could you possibly---“

She began to stride up to him, but a lot of the anger in her eyes was gone. “You wouldn’t know, because you were probably in the ambulance at the time, but after that dinner became a madhouse, I ran back into the dressing room.” She made her way around to the other side of the bed. “He followed me. I offered the ring back, but he didn’t take it. Do you know why, Flim? Do you?”

He scoffed and folded his forelegs. “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“He said he wouldn’t need the money, because he was only going to live long enough to find a nice, tall bridge!”

The colour instantly drained off his face.

“I begged him,” she said in a very soft voice. “I was on my knees in the most expensive dress I’ve ever owned. I cried. I tried to bargain with him. Nothing worked! So I lied.” Trixie very briefly glanced up at Applejack, but then went back to staring at the bedclothes. “I-I told him I was pregnant. I said he didn’t have to love me, but he had to come back for the baby.” Another tear streaked down her face. “…He didn’t.”

Very cautiously, Applejack placed a hoof on Flim’s shoulder. He was shaking.

“I read the obituaries every day, just to make sure he didn’t---“ Trixie pressed her lips together, as if afraid to end that sentence. “But if he did, I decided I was going to join him. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I’d driven a pony to that.”

After a moment of silence, she tucked a lock of hair behind her shoulder and finished with “So, yes, Flim, I do know what that did to him. I know better than anypony.” She shot a look to Applejack. “You can think of me what you will, but I’m not a monster.”

They stared each other down for a minute, and then Applejack slowly eased her eyes over to the open door, and back again. Take the hint, bitch.

Celestia must have been smiling down, because she did. “To think,” she said on her way out as she tugged her wig back into place, “I come all this way just to visit you, Flim, and what do you do? You yell at me.” Pausing at the door, she called over her shoulder “You really don’t deserve a friend like me.”

“He certainly doesn’t.”

Applejack waited for the door to close fully before turning her attention to her lover. “Flim?”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t even look up.

Putting her hoof over his, she gently said “…Y’had no idea, didja?”

“I thought I’d lost him…” he whispered. “I had no idea I could have…really… lost him… I…”

When he finally lifted his head to look at her, she was shocked to see tears in his eyes. “Oh, sugarcube!”

He ducked out of her attempted embrace. “Applejack, get out of here. Now.”

“What? Why?!”

“I don’t…” He had both hooves over his face. “I don’t want you to see me like this. Please.”

“Hey.”

It took a few tries, but she managed to crawl her way onto the bed, straddling his legs, and lifted his chin. His eyes were still shining, but they’d gone wide when he saw the sweet smile on her face. “After all we’ve done together, y’think y’can’t cry in front a’me?”

A kiss on the cheek, and he crumbled. Applejack nuzzled against the head on her shoulder, rubbing the frog of her hoof up and down his spine, and gently rocked him back and forth. “Shh. Shh, now.”

“…And then she hit me!” Trixie wailed. “She’s so much bigger than me, and she just hit me! It’s going to leave a mark!”

“Sugarplum, it’s fine. You can hide it with makeup---“

“And everypony will think you did it, you know!” She kept sobbing as he lifted her head with his magic, wiped the strings of tears off his shoulder, and then tucked her chin back down. “They’re going to think you’re a wife-beater!”

“We’re, er, not married.”

“Flam, can’t we just leave?” She pulled back, her wet lips parted in a pout. “Pleeeease? We can take him with us and put him in a better hospital than this backwater one!”

He stroked her mane, trying his hardest to smile. “We’ve had this conversation.”

“But I haaaaate it heeeeere!”

“And we’ve had that conversation, too,” he said, watching her flop face-first onto her cot. Keeping Trixie from going from whining to a full-on tantrum was as delicate as brain surgery, and he distinctly remembered how hard she could punch. “Remember, I told you that if you go into Ponyville, even in that ridiculous disguise, you’re going to get yourself in trouble.”

“’Ridiculous disguise’?!”

Oh shit. Her screeches were climbing up towards an octave that only dogs could hear. “Well i-it looks ridiculous on you, of course. You really shouldn’t hide your beauty like that.” He nervously adjusted his tie. Good save.

“Flam, do you really expect me to wait around for whatever you have planned? How long is it going to take? I’m going to go crazy stuck in this caravan all day!”

Considering her history, that was a very real possibility. “I told you, just a little while longer. I only sent the telegram yesterday.” He peeked out the window at the noonday sun. “It’s a beautiful day outside. You could stroll around the country away from the city proper. And I bring you back magazines and newspapers, don’t I?”

“Oh, but they’re all the same!” She picked up the obviously-unread paper---save for the comics page---and began flipping through it. “Blah blah blah, Celestia does a ribbon-cutting ceremony, another pretentious article by Trenderhoof, some bland opinion piece---oh, look,” she said with a sneer. “You’ll never guess what they wasted the headline on.”

“Trixie…”

But she wasn’t listening. “Some stupid celebrity making a desperate bid for attention by coming out. In this day and age, nopony cares if you’re a coltcuddler! Why do they make a big deal ab…”

The rant petered out, and the look of snotty rage on her face melted away like ice cream in the summer.

Flam cleared his throat as he watched her pupils shrink. “Er, Trixie? Darling? What is it?”

She quietly folded the newspaper, but kept it out of his reach. “…Pookie?”

For some reason, that squeaked-out little pet name filled him with more dread than her entire hissyfit. “Yes?”

“You, um, may have to adjust your plans.” She smiled sheepishly. “Just a teensy bit.”

Author's Notes:

So, thought this was going to be a nice little lighthearted chapter.

This is what I love about writing... the characters can often surprise you. Trixie's role in this chapter was originally going to be a minor cameo, but then she opened her big fat mouth!