An enthusiastic pounding on the door disrupted Cerulean’s attention from Dawn’s lecture on the finer points of building blocks, vexing the foal who immediately demanded that he be sent to time out with a stream of babbling that could almost be confused for speech, though “bad” came into effect several times. Cerulean turned back to his fuming filly and hoisted her onto his shoulders, eliciting a sigh of exasperation and a stern warning as she graciously waived his punishment in response to her sudden transition to her favorite perch atop her father’s head.

“Brace yourself, Twilight. You’re fair game, now that you’re not pregnant.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been practicing my forcefields. Let her in,” she replied with a chuckle, drawing up beside Cerulean as he opened the door. The stallion was promptly ignored as his sister moved in with lightning speed, tackling Twilight to the ground and getting a quick nibble of her ear before being shoved off amidst a sea of gleeful snickering.

“I knew you’d be worth the wait, Twilight. So kind of you to let me in. Now, where is the little filly? I’ll bet she’s just...” Crimson Glitter said before she caught sight of Dawn and fell silent. Cerulean gently lifted Dawn to the floor, who looked up at her father with curious eyes.

“Dawn, this is my sister, Crimson. Can you go say hello?” Dawn decided to indulge the simple request, trotting gracefully towards the awestruck mare before stumbling on her hair and releasing a stream of toddler curses. Regaining her regal composure, she sat down in front of Crimson and stretched out her hooves, eager for some pampering.

“Hold, hold!”

“Sis, go on.” Crimson sat down and scooped the child into her lap, staring into her luminous eyes that shone with the wonders of innocence.

“She’s beautiful, Cerulean.” Her voice lacked its usual sensuality, revealing heartfelt sentiment in its place. The filly stood her hind legs and offered her encouragement, her little hooves pressed firmly against the mare’s chest just over her heart. “Maybe... maybe there’s more to this life than rolling in another’s hay.” Dawn noticed a soft red glow and teleported onto Crimson’s head without hesitation, examining her shining horn. Twilight watched as little red flashes of light began to appear all around, as if somepony had turned all of the dust motes to glitter. Dawn clapped her hooves together and giggled at the trick, sliding down and chasing the dancing lights around the room. Crimson looked up at her brother’s face as he shared a tender kiss with Twilight, and something inside shifted. “Cerulean, do you think... there’s still hope for somepony like me to learn how to love?”

“Dawn, I believe you can answer that question.” The filly paused her pursuit of a rather large orb of shining light, teleporting into Crimson’s lap and giving her as big of a hug as her hooves could manage. Crimson slowly returned the motion, smiling through her tears and rising to meet the tyrannical fear that had held her captive for so long, being replaced with a hope that rose like the morning sun.

“Now, ah was gonna go and try to get some work done, but it’s clear somepony is gonna need t’ keep an eye on y’all.” Applejack rolled her eyes, quickly growing weary of her brother’s once appreciated over-protective nature.

“Ah told you before, nothin’ happened,” she attempted to explain for the fourth time, pulling the cart with several small casks full of Silver’s various brews. Silver trotted alongside her, keeping his silence while the siblings resolved the matter themselves. “We had a few drinks, got into a tickle fight, an’ Silver put his horn through a barrel. End o’ story.”

“Eeeyup.”

“Care t’ elaborate, Big Mac?”

“Nnnope.” Resisting the urge to give her brother a good drubbing, Applejack trudged in sullen silence. She gave a glance at the library and grew a disturbingly fiendish grin that Silver had trouble believing actually belonged to her.

“Hey, Big Mac, there’s yer mare.”

“Ah don’t appreciate you jokin’ at mah expense, Applejack. It’s really...”

“Jokin’ now, am I? She looks pretty real t’ me,” Applejack chuckled as her usually calm brother stared at the surprisingly demure mare who was followed out by Cerulean and Twilight. “Go on, talk to ‘er. Never gonna win her heart if you don’t try.”

“But ah don’t know anythin’ about mares.”

“And she don’t know nothin’ ‘bout bein’ serious, yer the perfect match. Now get goin’, and don’t worry ‘bout me an’ Silver. That mare is more trouble than both o’ us combined, an’ keepin’ her leashed is gonna take all yer attention.” He nodded slowly before fixing her coltfriend with a chilling glare.

“Silver, expect t’ give me a full report when ah make it back t’ the farm, ya hear?”

“Yes sir.” The pair watched as he slowly made his way towards the mare before Applejack gave a snort and continued walking. “So, do you really think she’s the mare for your brother, or were you just trying to get rid of him for the day?”

“All ah know is that mare is about as loose as Pinkie Pie’s lips. She forced herself on me an’ mah brother in the space of about ten seconds the first time she was in town. Ah don’t like the idea of her bein’ anywhere near Big Mac, but he really is interested in ‘er. Ah won’t claim t’ know everythin’, and ah do think there are ways that they’d complement each other, but mark mah words; it’s gonna be a rocky path filled with bumps an’ holes.”

“Well, we didn’t exactly hit it off, either,” Silver replied with a short laugh. “I think that it’s worth working through the hard times to attain something beautiful.”

“Now don’t you try that smooth talkin’ t’ me, sugarcube. Ah won’t fall for it.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, you’ll have to get used to an encouraging word or two.”

“Oh ho, will ah now? Ah suppose ah’ll suffer it patiently, then.”

Applebloom wandered into the kitchen to find Granny Smith in her favorite cauldron helmet, marching back and forth and muttering to herself. While the muttering could easily be ignored, the helmet was an indicator that she was either expecting some timber wolves over for tea or somepony was in for it good.

“Oh, come on, Granny Smith, ah already said ah was sorry about the fan thing!” Applebloom pleaded, knowing she was currently the only pony on the farm. She glanced over at the fan where bits and pieces of her fur yet remained, having been shaved off of the appliance in order to be free.

“Huh, wassat? I ain’t worried bout yer hide, Applebloom. That Silver character is late with me booze! I can’t stand late deliveries. I have half a mind to throw him overboard! He’ll sleep with the chickens an’ eat with the pigs!”

“Granny? Ah didn’t know you drank.”

“What a silly filly, o’ course I drink! Everypony needs food ‘n water. Now run along and fetch me some lemonade, my shoutin’ tube is gettin’ dry. Hop to it, private!”

“Uh, yes ma’am?”

Tranquility, unattainable in Manehatten, but ever present at Sweet Apple Acres, was something that Silver never ceased to enjoy. The soft rustling of the wind through the leaves, the faint murmur of the other farm animals, the melodious trilling of the birds; there wasn’t a single thing he could find disagreeable. The thought played through his mind that, if he didn’t already have a Cutie Mark, he’d have definitely been a farm pony.

Applejack was in the midst of a heated internal debate as to whether or not she should warn Silver about her grandmother’s somewhat quirky nature or just see how he reacts to it. After all, she would be family if they got married. Married? Sweet Celestia, where’d that thought come from? Ah shouldn’t even be thinkin’ ‘bout that. Still, ain’t a bad idea. “No, stop it, Applejack. It’s just too soon fer that kinda thought.”

“Applejack, who are you talking to?”

“Nopony.” Already talkin’ to mahself too; ah’m gonna end up just like Granny Smith at this rate. Applejack detached the harness and sat still while Silver loaded three of the small casks on her back before levitating the rest alongside him and approaching the door. Reaching a hoof towards the handle, the door was suddenly thrown open as Granny Smith made her grand debut.

“Well look who decided t’ show up, then! Them fancy clothes ain’t gonna get you a lick o’ mercy from this mare, no sir. Why, ah have half a mind t’... well, more like a fourth of a mind, or maybe a third? It don’t matter none, yer late! Now, where’s my delivery?”

“Uh, Granny? We got ‘em right here,” Applejack replied, motioning to the casks in plain view.

“Now ain’t that swell! Do come in, you two. We’ve plenty t’ discuss!” Applejack shot Silver an apologetic glance before bringing everything inside, whereupon Granny Smith insisted she be served her first before anything else got started. Soon she was happily sipping away on some of the red delicious cider, giving an in depth assessment that came out as a stream of mumbles. “Now then, I hear you an’ Applejack be a courtin’ now, Silver.”

“Yes ma’am, that’s correct.”

“I knew this day would come, but I didn’t know if it would be while I was this side o’ Equestria. Now, I’m right curious, when’s the weddin’?”

“Granny Smith! We only been together fer a day, ain’t it a bit soon fer that kinda talk?”

“Six months, I’d say.” Applejack was struck speechless at the declaration, sitting down hard and staring at Silver who acknowledged her dumbfounded state with a grin.

“Playin’ hard t’ get, are ye? I like yer style, Silver. Takin’ that long will keep ‘er interested.”

“Say what now? What’s gotten into you two?”

“You know, I think six months is a bit too long, Granny Smith.”

“Look at that energy, she’s as eager as I was back in the day.” Silver, who had been playing along just fine up until this statement, took a moment to blank his mind and set up mental wards should any thought on the subject attempt to arise. “Now listen here, you two. I ain’t got much hope fer gettin’ any grand foals outta Big Mac anytime soon, but I see a mother in you, Applejack. An’ I don’t know how much longer I’ll be around for a chance to see ‘em. I ain’t gonna rush ya, but do yer granny a favor an’ get busy, will ya?”

One of the many perks of being the cousin of a tavern owner was an endless supply of alcohol. That’s not to say she didn’t employ any self restraint, but she did find herself frequenting the location daily, normally multiple times. What started as a negligible, nearly non existent tug had grown into a nagging doubt that wouldn’t leave over the past two weeks, and it flared as she heard Lemon’s voice rise in frustration with the ineptitude of his assistants. It seemed odd to her that somepony who spent much of his time yelling could be so gentle when dealing with her, and as he walked out of the kitchen to take a breather, she approached him slowly and offered a glass of cider.

“Oh, why thank you, Miss Berry.”

“How can you do that?” Lemon paused, pondering the inquiry for a moment before taking a deep draft of the cider.

“Do what, exactly?”

“Shift from a dictator of the kitchens to a sweet, kind hearted...” Berry stopped there, realizing that the list of praises formed in her head would only serve to embarrass her further. Lemon’s chuckling only served to compound the uncomfortable situation, but he started to speak as she made to rise and walk away.

“Contrary to how it may appear, I don’t particularly care for yelling at other ponies. It’s simply the way of the kitchens, and those two are... aggravating to work with, to say the least. I’m sorry you have to hear it. You have more than enough on your plate without dealing with an ornery cook.” Lemon rose and returned to the kitchens while Berry looked on, even more confused than before she had posed her question.

Big, strong, stalwart, unshakeable: all of these had been used to describe Big Macintosh at various times. As he forced his legs to continue towards the red mare in distance, he found none of them to be particularly accurate to describe his current condition. He had felt tugs towards other mares before, but never strong enough to prompt any action on his part, and thus found both exhilaration and anxiety flooding his being as Cerulean and his family turned towards him.

“Good afternoon, Big Mac. Did you need something?”

“Eeeyup.” Come on, Big Mac, spit it out. Just ask t’ speak with ‘er, she ain’t gonna bite. Well, actually, she might, but that’s different. “Ah... ah was wonderin’ if...” Why is this so buckin’ ‘ard? Taking a deep breath, he readied himself to take the plunge when he noticed Crimson’s stare. It wasn’t one of desire, nor of confusion with his bumbling speech. Desperate to resurrect the situation, but not quite ready to confront the luminous eyes of the mare that was dominating ninety percent of his brain’s bandwidth, he turned instead to her brother. “Cerulean, could ah have a word with you?”

“Uh, sure. Twilight, I’ll be right back.” They walked a short distance away, just far enough for their voices not to be heard. “What is it, Big Mac? You seem pretty shaken up by something.”

“Bein’ a brother mahself, ah wanted t’ be straight with you. Ah’ve... ah’ve taken a fancy t’ yer sister.”

“Are you serious?” It was a pointless question, but Cerulean couldn’t help but stare up at Big Mac in disbelief. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t have any problem with that, it’s just... wow, never would have seen you and her together.”

“Trust me, ah was right surprised mahself. So, may ah ‘ave yer permission?”

“Oh, sure. Just treat her kindly or I’ll freeze them off,” he quipped, laughing and socking Big Mac lightly in the shoulder before changing his tone. “In all seriousness, be nice. She’s more fragile than you’d think, especially right now.” Big Macintosh nodded and they both made their way back to the waiting mares. Steeling himself, Big Mac opened his mouth to speak before a gentle whisper cut him off.

“I’m sorry.”

“Ah beg yer pardon, miss?”

“For kissing you and your sister like I did. I didn’t even ask your name or anything...”

“It was an interestin’ way t’ get acquainted, that’s fer sure. Folks ‘round here call me Big Macintosh, an’ don’t worry none ‘bout the past. Now, ah... ah don’t really know the proper way t’ go about these things, but ah was wonderin’ if maybe you’d like t’ join me fer dinner at the tavern tonight.”

“Dinner...” Big Mac felt the nausea churn in his stomach as the mare’s eyes began to tear up, impressing upon him that he must have already said the wrong thing. “The last request that I was given... was to bite harder. I can’t even recall ever being asked... for something as simple as dinner.” While perhaps inexperienced, Big Mac wasn’t a fool by any means, and Crimson offered no resistance as he drew her close. It was warm, and more importantly, it felt safe.

“Come on then, lemme try another! We ain’t got all day,” Granny Smith cried, polishing off the last few drops of her Fruit Rainbow Cocktail and eagerly, though unsteadily, holding out the cup for more. Hoping her obvious intoxication was enough to dull her senses, he decided to allow her a taste of the Shockberry Wine, which he opened with care and poured slowly into her cup. “Young ponies nowadays, got no sense when it comes t’ time.”

“Now Granny, be careful with this next one. Don’t drink it too... fast,” Applejack finished as she promptly downed the cup in one go, smacking her lips appreciatively and showing no signs of any kind of effect.

“Well that’s a mite disappointin’, I was expectin’ a bit more of a punch from that.”

“It doesn't feel like somepony is ticklin’ you or somethin’?”

“I always feel like I’m bein’ tickled by somethin’. Is that all you got?”

“Well, I have some partially fermented Zap Apple juice, but that’s not really drink-worthy yet.”

“I’ll be the judge o’ that, I’ll take three! Well, just one ought to do I suppose. Don’t want t’ be late fer me nap!” Silver levitated the barrel in question over to the table, corked the wine and set it elsewhere before he tapped the cask. Pouring a small amount, he offered it to Granny Smith, who suddenly became extremely serious, giving her cup the evil eye as if it were a misbehaving foal. Having thoroughly cowed her juice, she took a sip and rolled the flavor around in her mouth. “Applejack, I’m right disappointed. You ain’t taught that feller anything.”

“Beg yer pardon? What’d ah miss?” With a sigh, Granny Smith hoisted herself upright and shakily made her way to the cupboards, grabbing some honey and various other spices before returning to the table.

“Now, you said you were takin’ notes. So tell me, Applejack, what's this juice is missing?”

“Ah haven’t the faintest idea. Ah only know how t’ make Zap Apple Jam, Granny Smith.”

“Fillies these days... If yer just followin’ the recipe, then you don’t really know how t’ make it.”

“What am ah missin’ then, Granny?”

“Oh, this juice is missing happy honey an’ a smattering of other things, but the main thing it’s missin’ is... is, um, now what was I gonna say again?” The mental strain of regular thought, combined with her liberal consumption of alcohol, moved the rickety mare from concentrated to blissfully asleep, starting her nap a little ahead of schedule. Applejack stood and slung her elder across her shoulders, carrying her back to her favorite rocking chair and gently setting her down.

“Your grandmother is something else, Applejack,” Silver murmured, following her out.

“Don’t ah know it. She may sound a mite crazy at times, but she’s got a lifetime o’ wisdom if ya listen. Still, ah don’t quite know what she was talkin’ about just then.”

“Do you think there is any way I could see your notes? I’m quite excited about working with something as unique as this Zap Apple juice.”

“Well, it’s more of a list ah keep in mah head, but ah can write one out for ya, if you’d like.”

“If you wouldn’t mind, that’d be great, sweetheart.” Making no effort to suppress her smile, she walked upstairs to her room, grabbing some paper and a pencil from one of the drawers of her desk and got right to work. Moonshine read over her shoulder for a bit before becoming distracted by the flowing mane that, while she was seated, nearly reached to the floor. Her writing stopped as she felt his hooves begin to run through her mane like a brush, closing her eyes and quickly becoming contentedly relaxed.

“You... sure are good at bein’ distractin,’ sugarcube.”

“Is that a complaint, sweetheart?” he asked, pausing and resting his hooves on her shoulders.

“Did ah sound unhappy?”

“No, but I don’t really know what’s acceptable for this sort of thing. I mean, we’ve only been dating for a day. I don’t want to do anything that you’re not comfortable with, even if it’s something small.” Applejack swiveled around and stood, fixing him with a frightening scowl and holding it a moment before giving him a mighty shove. Completely unprepared, he stumbled backwards a few steps before tripping and falling onto her bed. His view of the ceiling was obscured by Applejack’s face as she stood over him, grinning ear to ear.

“Trust me, sugarcube, you get too eager and that’s exactly what will happen, an’ worse.” He was about to offer her his word that no such thing would happen when his mouth suddenly was put to a different use.

“Huh, what’s that then? Oh yeah, I remember what I was gonna say. Right important, if it was enough to wake me from my nap,” Granny Smith muttered to herself as she made her way towards the stairs, taking her time and giving them a stern lecture about being kinder to her elderly joints. “Applejack, I remembered the most important ingredient!” The declaration as she threw open the door and strode caused an embarrassed cessation of physical interaction, Applejack pulling away and studying the grain of the wood floor. “Well, I’m glad t’ see you’ve learned yer lesson. You already know the missing ingredient, you rascal! Honestly, wakin’ me from my nap fer nothin’...”

“Uh, Granny? What the hay are you talkin’ ‘bout? Hey, wait a second, Granny!” Applejack called out as the gray mane wandered back downstairs to resume her nap, still plenty tipsy from the booze. “Ah must be cursed. Ah can’t seem to spend more than a few minutes with you without somepony bargin’ in.”

“I think... I know what she was talking about now.”

“Really? Ah’m still lost.”

“Would you like me to show you the answer?” he replied with a grin, sliding off the bed and standing beside her.

“Yes, please. Ah don’t like bein’ in the dark, an I...” she started before he put a hoof over her mouth. Sliding the hoof across her cheek and behind her head, he pulled her into a passionate kiss. When her heart was at an appropriately rapid pace, he pulled away, admiring her luminous eyes for a moment before giving her the answer she knew but couldn’t quite place her hoof on.

“Passion, Applejack. Zap Apples, just like ponies, need passion. And you’ve got plenty of passion.”

“Only fer you, sugarcube.”