Pinkie sat down by the edge of the lake, dipping her legs into the refreshingly cool water. She splashed around a little, then her head turned as she watched Jack meander forward.

“Hurry up, slowpoke!” Pinkie called out, running a thumb over the lining on the blue and white back of the swimsuit she wore, sticking her tongue out in concentration until she had got the offending piece of clothing adjusted.

She wasn’t sure when it had happened, exactly, but she had put on some weight. On the bright side, it seemed to hit all the right places, giving a swing to hips that were childlike a year ago. Though she had been disappointed in how many bottoms she had to throw away, at least a few shorts still fit, which was a miracle, because if she had to get rid of the Wonderbolts shorts Isabelle had bought for her a few years ago, she would have cried.

“Comin’, sug, comin’,” Jack replied, marching lazily along as she took in the late afternoon air. Reaching the water’s edge, she kicked off her boots and undid her jeans, revealing a conservative black bottom of a swimsuit, then unbuttoned her top and tossed it next to her jeans.

Lastly, she gently pulled off her wedding ring, placing it on top of her other clothes. After giving a small stretch, the earth-folk ran a thumb under the top’s strap, her breasts going in tandem with the movement, then joined Pinkie, sitting down at the water’s edge.

“Took me ferever ta find this thing,” she commented, looking down at the bikini. “Ain’t really my kinda clothin’ choice, so I had it buried under a lotta crap.”

“Suits ya,” Pinkie said, kicking up some water. “Or should I say, ‘swimsuits’ ya!”

Jack gave a weak chuckle at the joke, but shrugged. “Nah. A one-piece works a lil’ better fer me nowadays.” She tapped a finger to the fist-sized scar on her stomach, the wrinkled, off-white thing drawing the eye sharply from her dark body.

The woman picked up on what Jack didn’t even need to say. “Scars make ya look tough though!” Pinkie grounded her teeth together and let out a growl. “Grrr, don’t mess with this farmer or she will mess you up.”

Jack kicked at the water absentmindedly, frowning a bit at that. “That ain’t always what I want, sug. There’s a time an’ a place fer lookin’ tough.” She looked over to Pinkie. “There’s this boy Bloom’s age. He came over when I was around. Intimidated the hell outta him with my face.”

“You can’t think it’s your fault, Jackie,” Pinkie said, carefully submerging herself into the water. “Kids are scared by lotsa things—they’re just kids. Can't always be sure what’s gonna make one laugh, cry, get mad… anything.”

“Guess that’s true. Reckon I’ll give ya that one. Hell.” She snorted, dropping down into the water. “Adults are the same way, ain’t they? Never sure when one’s gonna bend, when one’s gonna lash out like a snake.”

“Some,” Pinkie agreed. “But mostly bullies. And you’re not a bully.”

“Lashin’ out ain’t always bad, sug. Dash has done it a time or two, same with me an’ Rare. Sometimes if ya see somethin’ ya know ain’t right, ya gotta stand up an’ bite.”

Diane smiled. “And that’s why your scar isn’t gonna matter in the long run, Jackie. You’ve got that whole ‘pretty on the inside’ thing going, yeah? I can see it just from Bloom. What are you always telling Bloom to be? Not a diva, or a rich girl, you’re telling her to be a good girl—the best she can be.”

Jack slyly grinned, grabbing Pinkie’s hand, then sweeping the girl’s feet, sending her underwater. With one easy tug, she hoisted Pinkie back up, sputtering and dripping.

“I don’t care ‘bout the swimsuits an’ dresses an’ crap. Yer right there, sug. But I do care ‘bout bein’ approachable. Know the difference?” she asked, giving Pinkie a small pat on the back.

Pinkie coughed out some water. “Blegh. I getcha. But if you weren’t approachable, I wouldn’t have been your friend for as long as I have. You remember the train ride? The first one ever?”

“What? Headin’ ta school?” Jack questioned. “Yeah. Ya were playin’ some sorta game, an’ I was dreadin’ the whole thing.”

“I didn’t walk away though, did I?” Pinkie poked Jack on the nose repeatedly. “Huh? Huh?”

“It was a train ride. Where would ya have walked to?” she countered with a grin.

“I think I could’ve found another seat, Jackie,” Pinkie said, swimming around the farmer.

“Maybe.”

Diane looked at her for a long moment, a frown on her face. “It’s ok to be a bit sad sometimes.”

Jack sighed at that. “I ain’t got no real right ta be. I got a good life, married, my family an’ friends are some of the best people in the world. It’s jus’... hell, I dunno. I think some-a what’s been goin’ on at the side’s gettin’ ta me a bit.” She gulped in a deep breath and dove, vanishing for several long moments before rising.

“With Will?” Pinkie continued, not missing a beat in the conversation when Jack surfaced.

“With Will,” Jack agreed.

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

“An’ tell him what? That I ain’t cut out fer it? That I don't wanna do it no more?” She pursed her lips, then shook her head, swimming over to the end of the pond. “I can’t do that. That ain’t the truth. It’s jus’... this one got me, that’s all.”

“Well you should… it helps sometimes if you talk about it, Jackie,” Diane encouraged.

Jack seemed to take in the other for a long, long moment. “Rarity knows,” she finally said, letting a hand glide over the water, skimming the surface. “Maybe that’s all who needs ta hear ‘bout it.”

“Earth-folk are a lot alike,” Diane commented. She gave a thinking tilt of her head. “Bottling everything up. It’s not fun. I’ve seen enough to be sure of that, Jackie. My family’s never been super talky either, no matter how much I blab on and on about things so I get it. But talking is important. I mean… you have a really great place here now because of talking, dontcha? Talking with Rarity and all that, right?”

“I mean… that feels a bit different don't ya think, sug?”

Diane shook her head. “Nah. It’s kinda the same. I mean, I care about you, just like Spike does. And so if something’s been making you sad, or, or something like that, I’d like to hear about it. Maybe it’d help you.” She cracked a grin, pointing proudly to the three balloons on the back of her right hand. “I mean, if ol’ Pinkie can’t help you, who can? I got a knack for smiles, after all.”

“Ain’t really somethin’ ya can get smiles from, sug. It’s jus’...” Jack exhaled a long, deep sigh, keeping afloat in the water with lazy, casual brushes of her powerful arms. “It was a hard one. Probably the first time in a long time I’ve felt helpless.”

“I understand what that’s like.” She swallowed. “Remember when you were out there, trying to save Rarity, with Dashie alongside you? I was back with Twila and I couldn’t do anything for you. Even Chylene was more useful than me. And that hurt, ‘cause I wanted nothing more than to help you out anyway I could, but I just couldn’t. So,” Pinkie rubbed at her arm.

“So I know, you know?”

Jack gave a slow nod of her head, taking Pinkie’s words to heart. “Are ya wantin’...?” Jack slowly asked, cocking her head. “Ta hear some of it?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t, silly,” Pinkie encouraged, a sad smile on her face as she measured Jack. “I want to hear if it’ll make you feel better.”

Jack shifted a bit, moving to the edge of the pond and sitting on a stone under the water, her height letting her head peek out like a dark brown island amid a sea. “Jus’... tell me if it’s too much. Rare it, uh, wasn’t somethin’ she liked hearin’.

“Ya hear 'bout boogeymen, right?” Jack questioned. “The kind folk tell their kid they’re gonna meet if they don’t do their chores an’ eat their vegetables? Lil’ made-up monster.” She narrowed her brow. “That’s what I saw last time I went with Will.”

Pinkie let out a big gasp. “Was it under your bed?!”

The farmer’s expression remained serious as she pressed on, ignoring the question. “Hear how Cloudsdale academy, an’, hell, most of St. Charles, have themselves a layline underneath the ground? It ain’t anythin’ earth-folk like us care too much ‘bout, but fer soul-folk, it’s got a sort of… amplification, I guess ya could say. Makes magic more potent.”

“Like a tap of power?” Pinkie wondered. “So they, y’know, take a cup from the tap and that makes their magic have much more ‘oomph’!”

“Ya don’t drink it. It’s more like an invisible force. Like…” she hummed. “Like when the ground has itself a good batch of fertilizer. Ya can tell from what grows there that it’s stronger than a field without fertilizer, right?”

“Yeah! All the trees are much greener, taller and stronger. Plus all the fruits are tastier!”

“Exactly. Laylines are like fertilizer fer a soul-folks mind.” She brought a knee to near her chest and wrapped a hand around it. “An’ there were these soul-folk kids there. Lil’ guys and girls jus’ ‘fore they got shipped off ta get trained in magic at one of those fancy schools.” Jack shook her head. “Kids kept hearin’ ‘bout a Bloody Bones. A fella that’d come ta take children away in the dead of night if they didn’t mind their family. Guess enough got it in their heads that he was real that a monster got summoned, their nightmares an’ imaginations givin’ him form.”

“Go on,” Pinkie said, nodding encouragingly.

“By the time we got there, two kids had been taken from their homes in the dead of night. Later, when we found their bodies…” Jack’s neutral frown twitched dangerously, showing her somber thoughts. “Christ. It ain’t fit fer civil discussion.”

Pinkie gave a small bounce of her head in agreement. “A lot of life isn’t. But we talk about it, though, ‘cause what are you gonna do otherwise? Just ignore something and hope it’ll go away?”

“Wish that worked,” Jack said, her frown quirking into a wince.

For a long while there was silence. Jack’s lips eventually turned subconsciously into a snarl as she shut her eyes, seeming to be in deep thought. Finally, Jack muttered out, “We trailed the boogeyman thinkin’ it was somethin’ else—somethin’ that don’t usually kill. We enter the cave it was at an’.... the bodies? They were missin’ eyes. Their teeth were broken—Will guessed a hammer or somethin’, thing had thumbs, I guess so he coulda jus’...” She gave a small swing of an imaginary claw hammer to demonstrate. “Worst part was, hell, worst part was a couple of things.” Leaning her head back, she shrugged. “They were alive when it happened, judging by all the thrashin’ around the bodies had done earlier. An’ they were skinned after they were killed. Head ta toe.” She clenched her hands tighter to her arms, digging her fingers into her bicep, leaving small crescents from her nails. “I’ve seen a manticore dig inta a guy’s gut before, but nothin’ prepared me fer that.”

Pinkie went dead silent, her face losing all its rosy color that her cheeks usually possessed. She hauled herself up on the side of the bank and closed her eyes, grimacing and breathing heavily. She swallowed a few times, shivering with each one, exhaling deeply when the last of it had gone. Then the color had returned, as well as her strength—her fingernails were dug into the dirt. Her eyes were sparkling yet her face was twisted, deep frown lines forming. “They were just kids…”

“Jus’ a couple-a kids,” Jack weakly agreed, looking towards Diane. “That… that really got Rare, that they were jus’ a pair-a youngins. Got real bad ta me too, seein’ it an’ talkin’ ‘bout it.”

“At least…” Pinkie deflated, going back into the water until only her head was above it. “At least they’re in a better place now, right?” Then she took her head under the water for a few seconds. When she re-emerged, the water made for a clever mask.

“With God,” Jack said in a simple agreement.

“Think I’ve had enough of swimming,” Pinkie abruptly said. Then she mustered the effort to give Jack a short little laugh. “Getting all pruney.”

“Reckon it’s close ta dinnertime,” Jack replied in an attempt to change the subject. “Though I ain’t very hungry now.”

“Ditto,” Pinkie replied quickly, climbing out and rubbing at her eyes. “Just… one last thing?”

“Yeah, sug?” Jack asked, easily hoisting herself out of the water and moving over to her clothes, tucking them under her arm. She put on her ring and debated on her boots, before deciding to just go barefoot for the moment.

Pinkie gave Jack a gaze that could kill. “What about the monster that did it? Did you…?”

“I wouldn’t of told you shit if I hadn’t,” the farmer replied. “There wasn’t much left to collect after I was done with it. I scared Gilda and Dash with some of what…” She trailed off and swallowed. “Will understood, I think.”

“Okay… what did he say?” Pinkie said, displaying a level of seriousness unseen to Jack before.

Jack looked away from the girl, instead focusing on her house in the distance. “The same thing I thought. That it deserved to scream as much as the kids did.”

Pinkie nodded then looked down the path, seeming like she was miles away. She started walking. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Jack joined her, the thick callouses on her feet letting her match Pinkie stride for stride. “Can ya be honest with me?”

Pinkie blinked, turning her head. “Mm?”

“Do ya think any different of me after tellin’ ya that stuff?” Jack asked, giving an absent rub at her shoulder.

“If I was there,” Pinkie started, going quiet for just a moment. “And saw those kids? I think I would’ve been angry enough to do the same.” She quickened her pace, muttering, “Maybe worse. I dunno.”

“Guess noone really does know, ‘til they’re in that kinda boat.” She sighed as they walked down the path, running a finger over the fence line. “Only thing ya can do is...” Jack seemed to search for her words before giving up. “I guess live life as it comes.” She put a hand on Pinkie’s shoulder. “Though I hope ya never have ta deal with somethin’ like that. I really do.”

“Me too.”

They quickened their pace across the fields, Jack’s long strides effortlessly keeping up with Pinkie’s carefree bouncing steps. A short while later they reached the farmhouse and the two paused near the porch, sniffing at the savory smells of dinner wafting out of the house.

Pinkie stood on her toes to get closer to a window and took a whiff of it the scent. “Mmmmm. Smells good!”

“What happened ta not bein’ hungry?” Jack questioned, cocking her brow towards the girl.

“Fast metabolism,” Pinkie answered, patting her flat stomach. “I’m always looking and moving forward, Jackie. No sense getting stuck in the past.”

“That’s… a good way ta look at things,” she replied with a rub of her neck. “Come on, then. Let’s see what they got fixed up fer us.”

“Okey dokey,” Pinkie chirped, skipping inside.

They came to the dining room and instantly their mouths salivated. Pork tenderloin with, if Jack’s sense of smell wasn’t lying to her, a brown sugar glaze, corn on the cob, fried okra, and scalloped potatoes. In the center sat half a dozen rolls, so fresh heat still was rising off of them.

Pinkie was already in her seat before Jack could even move towards the table, rhythmically banging her knife and fork on the table, eyes dead set on that pork. Spike came from the other room to the table shortly afterward, giving an almost nervous glance toward the fork in the woman’s hand. Almost instinctively, Pinkie put down her fork and stroked Spike’s cheek gently, smiling at him.

Mac looked up from his own empty plate, glancing to Zecora as she brought a butter dish from the kitchen, with Rarity trailing right behind. The violet-haired beauty smiled, giving a small squeeze to Jack’s arm as she sat next to her.

“Who’s turn is it?” Mac asked.

“Jack’s, I’d say. We had Rarity’s just the other day,” Zecora replied, matter-of-factly.

“Again?” Jack replied with a grumble. “Though I jus’ did it.” Regardless of her complaints, she shut her eyes and clasped her hands together. “Bless the food here ta the nourishment of our bodies, bless the friends here ta join us fer fellowship, an’ bless our loved ones, here, an those unable ta make it.” She paused, then quickly added. “An’ give us the strength ta keep lookin’ ta the future, instead of always lettin’ our past keep us back. God’s name we pray, amen.”

A chorus of quiet ‘Amen’s’ went by the Apple clan, then Mac looked towards Pinkie.

“Best get ya some, ‘fore it gets cold,” he drawled out. “Rare’d tan yer hide if that happens.”

“That was only once,” Rarity remarked, taking a sip at a glass of water. “I’m sure the sandwich Jack had instead was a lesson she didn’t forget.”

“I think my hide’s already gonna be tanned from staying out in the sun all day!” Pinkie cheerfully replied, looking down at her chest. She put a clean napkin over it, in the vain attempt to preserve some modesty. Granted, it was doubtful whether she really cared enough; half of her pork was gone already.

“A healthy tan is nice. Though if you’re not careful, you’ll end up as dark as Zecora over here,” Jack replied with a grin. Zecora chuckled.

“Do you think she’d have the power? To be outside for that many a-hour?” the african asked in her rhyming speech.

“If there were things to do, of course!” Pinkie reached over and ruffled Spike’s vibrant hair. “I think Spike prefers vanilla though.”

“Guess I’m outta the runnin’ too, then.” Jack sighed. “Up ta you, Rare. Good luck.”

Spike blushed, looking down at his meal. “I like vanilla, caramel, even chocolate. But I like Pinkie the best.”

Rarity laughed, tearing off a piece of roll. “How charming!” she exclaimed with a grin. “That’s just the sweetest thing I think he’s ever said.”

Even Pinkie was blushing now, the color matching nicely with her hair. “He’s got a lot more where that came from.” She leant towards the boy and planted a kiss on his warm cheek.

Spike boyishly grinned, rubbing the back of his head at Pinkie’s actions.

“Jack could stand to learn a thing or two from him,” Rarity replied. “All this time and she’s still a terrible flirt.”

“Hey, I’m jus’ ‘bout like that Casanova fella nowadays. I’ll give ya when we first met, but not now.”

Rarity didn’t change her flat expression for a moment, resting both her hands on the table. After another pause, Jack flinched, jerking from the table.

“What are ya doin’ with yer foot there?” Jack asked.

“What do you think, Casanova?” Rarity countered, raising her brow.

“An’ how did ya get flexible enough ta even reach that far up when ya were sittin’ right by me?” the earth-folk questioned, finally returning to her chair.

“I practiced back in my day,” Rarity casually replied, taking another drink of water.

Spike whistled. “That’s some nice legwork,” he commented to Pinkie.

“I wonder ‘bout y’all sometimes. Weird,” Mac said neutrally to the table, rubbing at the rough shave-job on his chin.

“Well, you’re a big guy,” Pinkie commented. “So that’s your ‘weird thing’,” she continued, wiggling her index fingers.

“That a fact?” he drawled out. “Didn’t know that made me weird.”

“Taller than average though, right? Much taller. So you’re past the norm, which means…” Pinkie thrust a finger towards the man, “You’re weird.”

“Ya forgettin’ Norfolk?” Jack asked. “Mac ain’t exactly Iron Will here.”

“Well he’s not Norfolk is he? Duh,” Pinkie uttered, rolling her eyes.

“Pinkie…” Jack trailed off, exasperated. Finally, she sighed. “Yer so… you, sometimes.”

Pinkie hummed a delightful note, happily munching away at her food. Giving Jack a innocent look, her hand found Spike’s and held onto it.

“Ya ever get the mail, Jack?” Mac questioned, reaching over and taking another cob of corn.

“Nah. Got wrapped up with some odds an’ ends. It can wait ‘til tomorrow. Probably jus’ some bills.” the farm-woman shook her head. “Ya figure we’d have this school thing an’ hospital bills dead as a doornail by now.”

“Well, if someone would use some of my family’s money,” Rarity remarked.

“Yer dad covered the weddin’,” Jack replied, as if that explained everything. “‘Sides, yer tailorin’ business takes care of most of the monthly dues as-is.”

“Still stubborn, as usual,” she said. “But let the floor know I offered.”

“Noted,” Spike said with a nod.

“I saw it,” Mac agreed.

“I’ll remember it,” Pinkie contributed.

“It seems we’re to be taken for a ride, holding out for our blonde Apple’s pride,” Zecora teased.

“When I end up the punchline ta y'all's jokes?” Jack grumbled, putting another piece of pork into her mouth.

“It’s only your turn for now. Whenever Rarity gets dirty or something, then it’s her turn,” Pinkie said sagely, nodding in Rarity’s direction. “Fair’s fair!”

“An equal opportunity punchline. That’s the Pinkie way,” Spike dryly replied.

“That’s me!” Pinkie quipped, grinning at everyone around her.

Author's Notes:

We're finally back in business and starting the show. I mean, I'm not that far behind with a sequel I mentioned a while back, only, what, three years? Pah, child's play.
The remaining chapters should come out every Friday from here on out, with, perhaps, multiple chapters a week if I can get around to them. Glad to be posting something here again, and, hopefully, it'll have been worth the wait for y'all. See you in short order!