Jack headed towards the house with a heavy sigh of relief. Sweat soaked her shirt through—she was more than grateful for the day being over as she tromped through the Acres. The setting sun kissed her back as she let out a breath of contentment and silently marveled at the beauty of the crisp autumn day. The cool breeze, the golden leaves, the thought of a hot meal to dispel what little chill the weather had brought to her skin.

There was something magical about days like today. Hard work, sure, but it was honest work. Felt good using her hands for something other than punching or holding a blade, that was damn certain. Felt great being back in the swing of things, back in the farmer's mindset. Small buddings of pride in her heart at the land and the knowledge she helped create and shape, but always knowing there was room for improvement in crop yields and the like. The small pinpricks of troubled thought as to what tomorrow would bring, be it repairing another piece of fence she saw while making the property rounds, the mole infestation that seemed to have taken over their green beans, or the sick pig that would need tending to in the morning. Normal troubled thoughts.

The simple, easy to deal with problems—not the kind of problems Rarity had been having. Those life-or-death struggles seemed so distant here. Like it was a dark, impossibly black chapter of her life that was over and wouldn't come back.

That kinda thinkin' is jus' gonna get one of us hurt, Jack thought with a frown. They were safe, for now. But that didn't mean she was going to risk everything by being careless later on. She would keep the girl safe, no matter what sort of shit went down.

God. I miss jus' normal problems.

On the porch, she saw two familiar faces and one that was growing more familiar by the day playing poker on the floor. She came to the steps leading to the porch and tapped her foot lightly, drawing their attention away from the card game.

“Girls,” Jack said, tilting her hat down in greeting towards Stephanie, Bloom and Luanne. “How ya all doin'?”

“Great!” Stephanie squeaked out. “Bloom and Luanne took me to a secret clubhouse!”

“That so? Must be a heck of a place.” It was; she did the carpentry work on it back when she was Bloom's age. With a smirk, she glanced over at her sister and the other troublemaker that tended to hang at the farm, then over to Rarity's kin. “You been getting' along with Scootaloo an' my sister?”

“Again with that nickname, geez,” Luanne groaned.

“Yer fault fer ridin' that dang thing all over the place. Jus' rolls offa the tongue.” Jack took a moment to smile gently at Bloom. “An' how ya doin', sweet pea? Miss me?”

“A little,” she admitted, the bow in her crimson hair bouncing from her brisk nod. She rose with a frown, then went to hug Jack by the waist. “A lot.”

The woman put a gentle hand on top of the Bloom's head and smiled. “Missed you a lot too, baby girl. Sorry I didn't see ya last night or this mornin'.”

“I tried waitin' up fer ya,” she said, her drawl thick and heavy.

“Ain't no need—ya gotta get yer rest, Bloom. I ain't gonna be 'round too often 'til I get my schoolin' done—I'mma countin' on ya ta make sure Mac an' Granny get taken care of.”

Luanne rose from the floor, wiping at her backside with a hand. “So, you're an egghead now?”

“I wouldn't call myself that—egghead would make it seem like I'm actually havin' crap stick in my noggin.” Jack grinned at the purple-haired child. “Though I gotta say, I think you'd like my roommate. She's a lot like ya, in a way.”

“So she's totally cool too?” Scootaloo replied.

“If that's what ya wanna call it. Sky-folk too—bet ya could get some flyin' pointers from her or somethin'.”

“Awesome!” She offered a wide, toothy grin. “I gotta meet her! If I learn how to fly, I'll get my Mark for sure!”

“Ya think yer talent's gonna be flyin'?” Bloom asked.

“Of course! I'm a champ at flying!' The girl paused. “Well, at least I will be some day.”

“You two don't have your Marks either, huh?” Stephanie asked, rubbing at the small, slightly off-tone patch of skin at her cheek. Bloom offered the back of her right hand towards the girl, which bore the same off-color on her caramel skin, and Luanne finished, lowering the neckline of her shirt down until her tanned collarbone showed proudly to the other two.

“We're still Blankies.” Scootaloo sighed in defeat.

“Blanks, hon. Ain't nothin' ta be ashamed of,” Jack quickly replied. “Anyone callin' ya a Blankie is jus' afraid yer gonna outshine 'em later on in life.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand. “That doesn't help right now any.”

Bloom rubbed at her chin. “Being late with 'em ain't that bad. I want mine now, but my sister got hers last in her class, an' she turned out alright. She's smart, an' funny when she wants ta be, an' strong—“

“—And she has the best girlfriend ever!” Stephanie added, nodding excitedly. Scootaloo blanched.

“Girlfriend? And you're all kissy? Ecch.” She stuck her tongue out and made a gagging noise.

Jack smirked, looking over at the kid. “Some day yer gonna get yerself a partner too, an' you an' that fella or gal's gonna do the same.”

“No way, this bird's flying solo.”

“I didn't know chicken's could fly,” Bloom added thoughtfully.

“Watch it, hick. Nobody calls me chicken,” Luanne warned.

“At least to your face.” Bloom grabbed Jack's hand. “How come ya didn't mention meetin' someone in yer letters?”

“Same reason Mac didn't tell me 'bout Zecora an' him.” She knelt down to eye-level with Bloom. “Bein' a grown-up ain't perfect, sweet-pea. We get embarrassed a bit easier than y'all. Understand?”

“I jus' don't get why it's a problem. Well, aside from what Scootaloo said—kissin's pretty icky.”

Jack chuckled, rubbing the girl's hair. “You'll see when yer older, I reckon. It ain't all that bad.”

Luanne rose from her seat, gesturing out towards the path leading out of the acres. “Not to interrupt the gross conversation, but If we're going to town we need to do it now, before it gets dark.”

“Town?” Jack repeated. “What y'all headin' there for?”

“Well...” Stephanie trailed off, glancing to the side in embarrassment. “I may have forgotten to get my sis a birthday card.”

“Birthday?” Jack repeated, eyes widening in alarm.

“Tomorrow. Wait...” She narrowed her gaze towards the farmer. “You didn't know?”

“No.” The woman rubbed the back of her head. “Heck, I ain't got a gift or nothin'.”

“Yet another downside of having a girlfriend,” Luanne proclaimed, beaming at the news. “I don't have to worry about birthdays!” She gestured towards the other two. “Come on, girls! Let's get that card, then we can talk about what we can try to do to find our Marks!”

“Yeah!” they shouted in unison, leaving Jack nearly deaf as they shot off. She shook her head, leaning against the porch's fence as they scrambled for Luanne's scooter. They quickly jury-rigged a small wagon to it and took off, Luanne pulling the other two with at least moderate ease.

The door opened up behind her; Rarity approached, stepping over the pile of cards the girls had left on the floor with the grace of a cat. She moved over to Jack and stood next to her, lightly rubbing the farmer's back with a hand as she leaned against the railing, watching the girls depart past the farm's gates.

“Is it alright simply letting them leave without an adult?”

Jack nodded. “They'll be back before dark, it's a rule I've drilled inta Bloom's head since she could remember. Plus, town's kinda like St. Charles: Everyone knows everyone.”

“If you say so.”

The farmer gestured at the slowly shrinking figures. “Ya remember doin' stuff like that when ya were a kid?”

“My father said I was a little hellion.” Rarity chuckled. “Why, he distinctly remembers a time when I was five and got into my mother's makeup. I apparently ate most of it, wasted almost all of her perfume, and coated the walls with eyeliner.”

Jack laughed. “Sounds like ya—inta that girly stuff even when ya were a kid.” Her smile slowly dipped away; she looked at the soul-folk and it came back as an idea dawned to her as she brushed a bang behind the woman's ear. “Ya still interested in gussyin' me up?”

Rarity paused, giving a suspicious glance towards the farmer.

“Ain't a trick, sug. Reckon... I could try it fer ya.” Jack replied with a shrug she hoped came across as casual. It was punishment for forgetting Rarity's birthday, mostly. But at the same time, it did have another plus...

Rarity grinned, her smile showing off her perfect pearl teeth. She clapped excitedly. “Oh the things I'm going to do to you, darling!”

“Jus' don't be too rough with me—I gotta work tomorrow, after all.”

The tailor grasped Jack's hand and guided her inside. “Just you wait, Jack. We're going to make a woman out of you yet!”

What have I got myself into? she thought, surprised at Rarity's forceful grasp as she was dragged upstairs.

“Darling, can you stop squirming for a few more moments?”

“Ya poked me with a pin!”

“Because you won't stop squirming!”

“Well, ya—ow—jus' need ta quit!”

“You asked for this—you're getting the full treatment!”

“Gah!” Jack shouted as a pin poked at her head again. “Stop!”

“I can now. We're done.” Rarity rolled her eyes and extended her hand. From the vanity a few feet away, a hand-mirror levitated over and into the soul-folk's grasp. She handed it to Jack and took a step back, admiring her handiwork. Jack looked into the mirror and paused, almost overwhelmed at the change Rarity's work brought on her.

Her hair had lost some of its thick volume—it hung gently over her head, flowing like a river over her shoulders and down her back; a collection of pins at the top left a small, majestic bun in place. Jack squinted into the mirror; her eyelids had a small, shimmering kiss of gold to them, hinted at behind the ebony black eyeliner that brought forth her vibrant green eyes. Her dark brown cheeks had a light dusting of blush to them—Jack noticed that Rarity had all but hidden her scar under what she guessed was a type of paste—and her lips were an unusual orange coloration that really brought attention to her normally thin and unmentionable mouth. Jack trailed a finger, temporarily softened by moisturizer, across her face, soaking up the changes.

Rarity wrung her palms together, the same nervous expression a father awaiting the birth of his son might carry. Jack nodded, leaning against the armrest of her chair.

“I can hardly recognize myself, sug.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Jack shrugged. “I dunno. Be honest: do I look pretty?”

“You always look positivity gorgeous, my dear,” Rarity instantly said, reaching over to clasp Jack's hand. “Makeup or not.”

“Why make me wear this then?”

“Because as an artist, one should always be mindful of how even perfection can be improved upon.”

The farmer gave a self-conscious smile. “Yer embarrassin' me.”

“If you're that embarrassed about the truth, Jack Apple, then that simply means you just need to hear it more often until it's not as shocking.” Rarity moved behind the farmer; Jack heard a small shuffling, then a few muted clanks of metal. Finally, Rarity's hands came into view, draping over Jack's shoulders and placing a loose-fitting silver necklace around her. Jack trailed a finger over the chain as Rarity attached silver hoop earrings to her earlobes. She took Jack's right hand—the farmer noticed that Rarity had drawn thick black lines around the trio of apples on her hand, highlighting their design.

“Please, go to the vanity mirror—tell me what you think of your dress. I have one last item for you that will make you look magnifique.”

Jack shrugged, rising from the chair and nearly stumbling to the ground in the heels she wore. “C-can I not do the heels, sug? I ain't game on breakin' my neck tonight. 'Sides, I'm already tall enough.”

“I'll concede on the heels,” Rarity sighed. “However, we are at least putting you in some dress shoes—no boots, dear.”

“Fine, fine,” she grumbled, moving to the mirror and looking over herself.

The dress Rarity had put her in was a fine piece. Silky, sublime, regal. An emerald green that perfectly matched Jack's eyes, it was a sleeveless design with a deep, plunging neckline that accentuated her already prominent breasts enough that she felt an embarrassing heat rise to her cheeks. Trailing down, the dress had a sort of diagonal design that reminded Jack of a fancier crochet pattern at the side, giving the illusion of her stomach holding a womanly inward curve to it, as opposed to the more-or-less straight shot to her modest hips. A slit in the dress' side gave yet another illusion of her hips being more wider and sensual than they truly were. Aside from the taut, well-defined muscles on her arms and visible leg, she was the embodiment of femininity.

“Ya don't joke around when ya say yer gonna clean a gal up,” Jack marveled, tilting her head and adjusting her body a bit as she took in her reflection.

“I like to think I'm fairly serious about my chosen profession, darling.”

Jack heard the soft clack of Rarity's heels on the wooden floor, then saw her reflection approaching. She put a hand around Jack's waist and rested her head against the farmer's neck.

“Especially when it's for someone who means so much to me.”

Jack said nothing, instead tightening her hold on Rarity. The soul-folk paused.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Rarity reached into the side-pocket of her well-pressed cream business dress suit and pulled out a bracelet. It was a small thing; silver, like the rest of her accessories. However, there was one thing that drew attention to it. Set straight in the center was a red gem, cut to perfectly match the shape and size of Rarity's Mark. On the opposite side of the bracelet was a blue apple that fit Jack's Mark perfectly. Jack smiled and flicked her wrist to either side, intently looking over the small gemstones.

“Hon, this is beautiful. Where'd you get somethin' like this?”

“As I've mentioned to you before, I know a metalworker. As for the gems...” She gave a small point to the three diamond at her cheek. “I've got a knack for finding them, you see.” Then, without even a pause, she ran a ghost-touch across Jack's neck, sending shivers down the farmer's body. “In more ways than one.”

She smiled, just as Rarity offered her hand and helped the blonde put on a pair of smart-looking shoes. She then escorted Jack to the door and pecked her with a quick kiss. “Run along, dear. I've got to get ready myself.”

“'Run along'... treatin' me like a dang kid.”

“Well, I did have to dress you.”

“Shaddup,” Jack automatically replied as Rarity chuckled, shutting the door behind her. The farmer walked to her room and sat down at the edge of the bed, rolling the bracelet absentmindedly with a finger as she thought.

She had told the truth to Mac last night: She loved Rarity. She hadn't said anything to the girl yet, of course, but it was a simple truth that was harder to ignore every day. A part of her knew it was greedy, in a way, but Jack wanted the tailor—the kind, wonderful, charming, sweet, flower of a woman—for her own.

She looked down at the Mark on her hand. Iron Will said that her talent wasn't so much farm-work, but taking care of her family, taking care of her own. If it was, maybe, just maybe...

The farmer rose, moving to a drawer at her nightstand and rooted through it, nearly exclaiming in triumph when she found what she was looking for. She felt along the dress for pockets and frowned at their absence.

Am I really gonna have ta carry a damn wallet 'round town tonight?

Jack rolled her eyes, then felt in the drawer once more, pulling out a woman's billfold. She brushed off some dust, admiring how well-maintained it was despite decades of non-use. She put the object inside the billfold and held it in a death grip. There'd be hell to pay from everyone involved if she lost her mom's stuff.

There came a knock at the door. “Jack, please pick up the slack,” Zecora stated.

“Yeah, yeah. Comin'.”

For better or worse, tonight was going to change a few things.

The farmer came downstairs a few minutes later, greeting Mac and Zecora with a nod. She paused a moment as Macintosh did the same.

“Dang, Mac. Clean up nice.” Jack smirked, looking over his well-pressed brown suit and shaven face. He casually smiled.

“You ain't too bad yerself.”

Jack laughed. “Only 'cause Rarity's a miracle worker.”

Zecora smiled and ran her hand down a daring dress that had slits on either side, along with an opening that exposed the sun design standing out on her flat belly—the Mark's location all-but exclusive to the shaman-folk of Africa. “Jack, you are one to impress,” she stated, the heavy gold bracelets clinking on her wrist as she put a finger to her chin. “That is quite the nice dress.”

“Yers is nice too.”

“Quite nice,” Rarity agreed from the top of the stairwell. “A foreign design, judging by the open belly—eastern nations are quite fond of that style.”

“Your eyes are clever and your truth stands. My apparel comes from my homelands.”

“Marvelous, darling!” Rarity positivity squealed. “It's simply top of the line. Someday I'd love to work on a series dedicated to your culture's designs—I did one utilizing an Egyptian theme a few months back that I felt was sublime—I'm sure I could do quite a bit with—“

The front door opened, flooding the room with the chatter of three young girls.

“An' I already told ya earlier: we jus' ain't got the right equipment ta make an engine. 'Specially a train-sized one.”

“Then what's the point of all that metal out in that storage bin?”

“Scrap metal, Scootaloo. We get a bunch an' sell it. We ain't makin' an engine from that dang stuff.”

“Plus coal's expensive.”

“Yeah, what Stephanie said,” Bloom argued, passing into the kitchen. She nodded at the group, then headed up the stairs. She paused halfway and came down, scratching at her head. “Ya'll are lookin' nice.”

“Thanks, sweet pea,” Jack replied, rubbing the back of her neck. She glanced at the three girls and the dozens of oil spots and muck they were coated in. “What in the heck y'all get inta?”

“Well—“ Stephanie began.

“There was—“ Bloom started.

“So, this—“ Luanne quickly spat out.

The three looked at one another and grinned, sharing a secret. Jack was about to say something, then sighed, glancing futilely towards Mac.

The man gave an easy stare towards the three. “Girls. Go wash up. I expect ya'll ta have a bath an' be in bed by the time we get back.”

“Fine,” Bloom said with a roll of her eyes, stomping upstairs with the other two. Mac was about to say something to Zecora, when the front door opened once more, heavy footfalls racing in. Braeburn stepped into the kitchen, his hands on his knees and breathing heavy, the thick mop of curly brown hair under his wide-rimmed hat soaked.

He wiped at his head. “Y'all seen...”

“Girls went upstairs ta take a bath,” Jack promptly replied. “An' hello ta you too.”

Braeburn finally rose after a few more desperate gasps of air. He lifted his hat up and brushed his hair back. “Yeah, sorry. Forgot my manners. How ya doin', squirt? Nice look, by the way.”

“'Squirt?'” Jack repeated. “Ya ain't all that older than me, cuz.”

“I got enough months on ya ta throw my weight around, I figure.” He gave a boyish grin. “Though I'm serious when I say we gotta catch up tomorrow. I'm guessin' that lil' cutie pie wrapped 'round yer arm's yer date?”

“Indeed. Rarity Belle. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The soul-folk gave a small bow.

He gave a wave. “Braeburn Apple. All the way from the great city of Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaappaloosa!” the man announced, snapping his hat up and waving it briefly.

“Yer still doin' that, huh?” Jack muttered.

“Of course, Jack! Ya gotta have pride where ya lay yer head. Bet ya feel the same way 'bout Mansfield.”

“I don't exactly scream my head off every time someone asks where I'm from.”

He chuckled. “Only 'cause yer a stick in the mud.” Scratching his baby-smooth chin, he glanced upstairs. “Those kids are gonna run me ragged tonight, ain't they?”

“Eyup,” Mac agreed. “Yer gonna work for yer Hearth Warmin' meal Friday, that's fer sure.”

“Reckon I'll enjoy the quiet while it lasts, then.” He stepped back into the living room. “Y'all have fun at yer little shindig tonight. I'mma take a nap 'til those girls get outta the tub.”

“Bum,” Jack replied with a smirk.

“I suppose you're forgetting all the times you slept at my boutique?” Rarity questioned, raising a brow.

“Point taken.”

“I'm rather anxious to start.” Zecora gestured toward the door in the living room. “Mac and I shall move the cart.”

Mac nodded, taking the woman and guiding her with a massive arm wrapped around her shoulders. He paused to glance at Jack from the doorway, his lazy stare driving his words even harder home. “May wanna show yerself ta Granny while we're gettin' the horses ready. I reckon she'd like that.”

“Do ya think—“ Jack caught herself. She was about to ask if it even mattered—wasn't like the old woman really had things click for her anymore. It hurt to think, and Mac would probably be crushed, Jack thinking like she did, but was there even really a point in seeing her, when the woman Jack grew up and loved was gone? When she was just a dying shell? Hell, it's why Jack didn't make a beeline for the old gal when she first arrived—it just felt pointless.

She finally gave up and nodded. “Alright.”

The woman took a few steps laced with trepidation up the stairs, before she heard a voice behind her.

“Aren't you going to introduce me to her as well?” Rarity offered. Jack turned towards the tailor, who wore a small, understanding smile. “I'm sure she's quite the lovely lady.”

“She is.” Was. Jack bit her lip and glanced at the top of the stairwell. “A-are ya sure?”

“Of course I am, ma cherie.”

“Yer sayin' that fancy stuff again,” Jack quietly chuckled. Rarity slipped to her and put a supporting hand around the farmer's waist.

“I suppose I am,” she agreed, giving an encouraging push forward on Jack's torso.

Jack guided the soul-folk to the end of the upstairs hallway, pausing before the last door on the left. She glanced over at Rarity as she rested her hand on the doorknob. On seeing the woman's reassuring nod, Jack turned the handle and stepped in.

The room was sparse on furniture, but well-decorated with dozens of images of their extended family—Jack's granny had always been a bit of a shutterbug. She loved taking pictures. Wasn't too bad at it either. She could have maybe made some money doing it, if she hadn't settled down and started working on the farm.

The two passed by a dresser and a chest to stand at the side of the bed, where a shriveled up woman with wispy, snow-white hair lay staring up dumbly at the ceiling behind thin curtains. Jack pushed one to the side and knelt down next to the bed, taking the old woman's hand.

“H-howdy, Gran...” Jack whispered. The old woman's eyes slowly focused and her gaze slid over to Jack.

“Who's zat?” the woman breathed out, reaching a pale hand out towards the blonde. Jack took the hand and held it gently.

“Jack, Granny.”

“Jack...?” She took in a breath and shifted slightly to get a better look. She paused on seeing the other woman in the room. “An' that yer wife?”

“W-what?” Jack stammered out. “No. She ain't. She's my ladyfriend, though. Her name's Rarity.”

“Charmed,” the violet-haired beauty said, smiling kindly. “Jack's said so much about you the past few months.”

“All good, I hope?” the elder asked with a wheezing laugh.

“Everything.”

“Good... good...” She laid back down and weakly smiled. “Jack deserves a nice lil' wife. Someone who has a lady's touch—bullridin' ain't a gentle profession, after all.”

“Bullridin'...?” Jack trailed off, narrowing her brow. It dawned on her and she visibly flinched, biting at her lip. “Gran. That's uncle Jack. I'm... I'm yer granddaughter.”

“Granddaughter...?” She let out a tired exhale in thought, then her expression darkened. “Had one not too long ago, Jack—Beautiful child.” The woman clenched her teeth tight. “Lost the mother—lost my baby girl.”

Jack said nothing, glancing pitifully towards Rarity, who returned the expression.

“S-she named her 'Bloom.' 'Fore she passed on, she looked out the window... Last thing she said was how pretty the trees were in bloom.”

“Yer daughter was a good woman,” Jack quietly said.

“We buried her in the plot out back. My other granddaughter cried herself ta sleep the last few nights.”

“Yeah,” the farmer croaked. “Bet she did.” She took in a breath caked with emotion and patted the back of her grandma's hand. “I... w-we should let ya rest.”

“Y'all come back ta see us. An' tell yer ma I've been itchin' fer one of her molasses pies.”

“Will do.” Then, under her breath, “Love ya, Gran.”

Rarity and Jack slowly moved back towards the door. As Rarity went into the hall, Jack heard her grandma wheeze.

“Jack,” she called out. The farmer turned and noticed how attentive she seemed to be. Her eyes seemed briefly focused and alert as she stared across the bed. “Treat her right.”

The farmer stared across the room, before slowly nodding. “Yeah, Gran... I will.”

She weakly nodded, leaning back into the folds of the bed and closing her eyes.

Jack stepped outside, quietly shutting the door behind her.

“Are you alright?” Rarity asked, taking Jack's hand and staring up at the farmer.

“I'm fine,” she tersely replied.

“You're crying.”

Jack stared down at the soul-folk. “Am I?”

Rarity moved her thumb up to Jack's eye and brushed it gently, showing the farmer its wetness.

“Guess I am,” she softly marveled, before exhaling. “Ya know somethin'?” the earth-folk asked, scrunching her face tightly and wiping at her eyes with the palm of her hand. “I jus' never thought it'd be this hard. She's always been this tough gal. Seein' her like this... God.”

“If you need anything, anything at all, let me know and I won't hesitate.”

“I know ya wouldn't, hon. Yer always there fer me... It's one of the reasons why I...” She swallowed, biting her lip. “Rare,” Jack addressed after a long, thoughtful pause. “After we get back, I wanna talk with ya alone fer a bit. That fine?”

“Because we're not talking alone now,” she replied. On seeing Jack's serious expression, she raised her hands. “Very well, dear. We'll discuss what you wish to say.”

Macintosh's voice rose from below. “Ya girls 'bout done? We got the horses hitched!”

“Comin'!” Jack quickly called back. She looked at Rarity. “Well, guess we shouldn't keep the boy waitin'.”

They loaded up into the wagon, Jack and Mac in the front bench tending the horses, Zecora and Rarity in the tail end on a small cart the Apple kin typically used to haul hay. Rarity's nose wrinkled slightly in disdain on her hay-covered seat, but she remained quiet. With a small snap of the reins, they were off, traveling down the road leading towards Mansfield.

“Pretty night,” Mac commented over the noise of the horses and the wooden cart bouncing down the rough road.

“Eyup,” Jack agreed, nodding with his simple words.

“I meant it earlier: ya look pretty.”

Jack smiled. “Thanks. 'Course, it's 'cause of my girl. I sure didn't gussy myself up.”

“I can believe that. I ain't got a clue what kinda dirt she has on ya, but it's gotta be pretty big if she's puttin' ya in a dress.”

Jack glanced behind her at the two women engaged in quiet conversation in the back of the wagon. She somberly nodded. “I guess I do got some dirt on me.” An some blood on my hands...

He said nothing, tilting his head slightly to listen to her better over the clatter of travel.

“I-it's not somethin' I could say over the mail.” She let out a breath. “I... I can't ask ya ta not hate me—“

“I'd never hate ya, Jack.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Yer family no matter what.”

“Swear ta me.” Jack said, staring straight ahead and not meeting Mac's questioning gaze. “Swear ya won't say a peep of this ta Bloom.”

The giant tightened his grip on the reins. “Yer makin' it sound like ya killed someone or somethin', Jack.”

She squeezed her knees tightly, not daring to look him in the eyes.

Macintosh did much the same, slowly returning his sights to the road. It took her a few minutes, but Jack finally spoke again, her voice barely rising above the rolling wheels.

“Shit, uh, got serious fer me...” Jack glanced behind her, towards the soul-folk at the back of the cart. “Serious fer us a few months back...”

Rarity, meanwhile, continued to speak to Zecora, nodding as she listened intently to a tale the African was finishing.

“...I looked at her and spoke gently, 'Child, not when you wear purple.'” Zecora concluded. Rarity blinked for a moment, then held back a heavy laugh, covering her mouth to stop herself from being heard across the wagon. She spared a small glance behind her, frowning slightly at the deep conversation the Apple siblings seemed to be having.

Zecora gave a knowing smile, reaching out to touch a leaf from a tree planted close to the road as the cart continued to rumble on towards the town. “I know romance is sometimes brought upon the spur, but what exactly made you want her?”

“A misunderstanding,” Rarity replied. “I mistook an apology for a token of interest, then after some... extenuating circumstances...” Like saving me from death's grasp, she thought, ”I expressed my interest in her—a tip of the hat, if you will.” She crossed her hands over her lap and stared up at the starlit night. “Granted, my view of her has changed over the months. At first, I suppose I held her to some... mythical standard. “

Zecora hummed briefly, shrugging. “I do not know exactly of what you mean. Would you elaborate, so your knowledge I may glean?”

The soul-folk pursed her lips. “I saw her as this thing of beauty—and she is beautiful, in her own way,” she quickly corrected. “Quite possibly the most beautiful person I've ever been with, made presentable or not. It's just that... back then I didn't take into account some other aspects that make her, her.” She crossed her arms over her breasts, then winced as the wagon hit a pothole. “I saw her interest in farming, and labor, and, and combat, and I considered them to be a negative traits. Ones I believed she would throw away as she grew closer to me. Views that were arrogant and uncompromising.”

She then gave a considering pause. “Perhaps I'm judging my prior beliefs far too harshly. Maybe it's the simple case of the self being the greatest critic, and the past seeming so different than now that I'm viewing myself in a darker light than I stood in.” The tailor ran a finger through her hair, briefly conjuring a small, illuminated mirror to position it just so. “Now, while it's still something I have no interest in personally, I at least understand and respect her passions, as she tolerates my own.” Rarity couldn't help but glance once more at Jack's back and her nearly regal appearance. “Of course, it seems like she goes above simply tolerating my passions.”

Rarity gently smiled, looking down at her hands and feeling a slow blush creep her way across her cheeks, feeling briefly the way a girl would over her first crush. “Jack would do anything for me, you realize? She... she has already done so much.” Rarity bit her lip. “I care deeply for her. Yet, I am a bit uncertain regarding the future. Our future.” She held out both her palms at her sides and glanced at each in turn. “Our social cliques are as far away as one could get. I... I don't want my life's work ended by becoming a housewife on a farm in the middle of nowhere. I'm proud to have dreams, aspirations. Goals in mind, Zecora.” The violet-haired woman lectured, raising a finger up. “Likewise... I can't ask Jack to leave the farm behind. She has aspirations of her own involving her family life. That, and I would dread the conversation asking her to whisk away with me. Jack is stubborn, as all Apples are, I assume, but...” Rarity sighed, looking once more to the stars above the cart, silently hoping they'd give her an answer. “I know if I asked—begged, she'd eventually concede. But I know she wouldn't adapt. She may even resent me, after a few years of it.”

Zecora nodded, listening intently to the soul-folk. “It's perfectly fine to have those fears. Some relationships end in tears.” She looked over her shoulder at the siblings, at the faint lights of Mansfield in the distance. “But before you set your heart on a future goodbye, speak to Jack, explain yourself before things go awry.”

“Oh of course,” Rarity quickly agreed with a wave of her hand. “I'm merely speaking of future worries. Nothing at all regarding current issues. It's merely a problem that came to my thoughts regarding a more... permanent relationship, if you will.”

“It seems to me like you have a plan. Were you wishing to one day make her part of your clan?”

“I, well, that is to say...” Rarity offered a wry smile. “There are very few women like her. I will say that, at least.”

Zecora laughed. “Then you better take hold of her while you can. Women like that are in high demand.”

“I suppose I should keep that in mind,” Rarity agreed as they pulled into the outskirts of Mansfield. Macintosh numbly dropped off the wagon and attached the horses to a nearby hitching post. Rarity rose, brushing her backside free of the hay that clung tight to her appearance.

“Zecora, I appreciate the talk. It gave me a bit of insight.”

The African smiled, rising herself and taking a look at the small homes decorating Mansfield's outskirts. “Thank you, Rarity, I am touched. Really, however, I did not advise you much.”

It was close to midnight when they got back to the acres. Jack sent Mac and Zecora inside and set to taking the horses back to the stable, Rarity following close behind. The tailor glanced at the evening sky in thought.

“It's a beautiful night.”

“Eyup,” Jack agreed, shuffling on her feet slightly. She tightened her grip on the horses' reigns with one hand and clutched her billfold with the other. “Downright pretty.”

Rarity glanced at her partner and let a small smile come to her. “The jazz band was lovely.”

“Eyup,” Jack agreed, looking towards the horses and swallowing.

“Who was your favorite performer?”

“I dunno... maybe that one fella that did Lucille?”

“King?”

Jack said nothing, opening the stable door and guiding the horses in as Rarity stood by the stable's entrance.

“It wouldn't kill you to talk a bit more, you do realize?” Rarity asked, crossing her arms with a huff and staring into the dark of the interior. She heard a few small metallic clinks as Jack unhitched the saddle and supply bags from the horses, then the creak of a hinge opening and closing. The farmer stepped back outside a moment later, getting ready to wipe her hands on her dress. She paused on noticing the tailor's glare; Jack reached into the billfold she carried, pulling out a handkerchief and cleaning her hands that way, before putting it back.

“Sorry, hon.” Jack kicked at the dirt, looking down at her shoes. “Jus'... thinkin', ya know?” The farmer let out a breath, staring up at the heavens. “I... I wanna talk with ya. Care ta walk back ta the barn with me?”

“And you cannot speak to me of it outside because...?” she questioned.

“Jus' feel better in a spot that ain't so open, I guess,” Jack replied, already moving past Rarity and towards the barn. An if I don't get a spot ta sit 'fore we talk, I'm likely ta collapse.

The two entered the barn, Jack walked over to a round bale and sat, still clutching the billfold in a death hold.

“Come here, Rare,” Jack said, patting a spot right next to her.

“This isn't going to just be you asking for a roll in the hay, is it?” Rarity questioned with a quirked brow and a smirk, moving over and sitting next to the earth-folk.

“This is serious, sug.” Jack felt heat in her cheeks at the suggestion. She turned slightly, shuffling her weight a bit to get more comfortable—lord knew she didn't have to worry about hay poking her butt like this in jeans. Whoever thought that thin dresses were a good idea...

“Listen,” Jack began. She took Rarity's hands in her own and looked deep into the tailor's blue, pure eyes. “I reckon I'mma be treadin' some familiar ground with ya here, but I wanna say it, while I still got the guts.” The woman leaned forward, shutting her eyes and resting her brown forehead against Rarity's cream. “Ya know I love ya, right?” She smiled gently, still not opening her eyes. “I mean, yer a smart gal, so I figured ya did, but...”

“I presumed you had a fondness for me,” Rarity replied, letting out a single chuckle of her own. “And I must admit that I'm quite enamored with you as well, Jack Apple.”

“I'm glad,” Jack said. “Past few months they've... I can't lie. They've been hard. Things that have gone down. What I've had ta do ta take care of ya. Jus' a whole load-a shit. But knowin' yer with me—that I'm holdin' one of the best things in the world? Makes it worth it. I love ya, Rarity.” Jack repeated, running a thumb over the soul-folk's temple and reaching to her billfold. “An' maybe I'm bein' stupid, but even now I jus' can't see me livin' in a world without ya. Without ya in my life.” She dug into her billfold and clasped an item in the palm of her hand. “So I got ya somethin'. Happy birthday.” Jack turned Rarity's hand upwards and dropped it gently into her palm, then closed her fingers around it. The tailor relaxed her hand, pausing when she saw what the item was.

Rarity stared hard at her hand. “I-is this...?”

“A ring. My ma's...” Jack quietly agreed, apprehension on her face.

It was a simple thing—a single solid gold band, with a small, orange gem in the shape of an apple. Rarity ran her finger and thumb over the design and the smooth curves of the object.

“Jack...” Rarity bit at her lip, seemingly conflicted, something the farmer caught on to quickly.

“Am I going too fast here?” Jack asked after a beat, wringing her hands together. “Sorry, Rare. Leadin' ya into somethin' ya ain't keen on doin' is the last thing I want.”

“I know. I-it's simply...” Rarity sighed, looking down at her hands. “Do you realize how complicated a marriage between us could be?”

“It don't have ta be,” she argued, picking at a piece of hay from where they sat and tossing it to the side. “Jus' 'cause yer wantin' ta be somethin' in the world, don't mean nothin'. Ya go 'round the world, see the sights, whatever ya gotta do. Jus',” Jack gave a small, weak smile. “Remember ya got a home here. With me.”

“I'm still not ready for this type of commitment, dear,” Rarity said after a pause. “You've become one of the most important people in my life, but I'm...”

“Scared?” Jack asked, the word without any heat. Rarity nodded after a moment.

“I suppose I am.”

“I understand.” Jack nodded thoughtfully, staring to the side.

“But,” Rarity started, bringing the farmer's attention back to her. She closed her hand around the ring and gave it some thought. “Quite a bit has happened over these months, as you said. And it's...” She bit at her lip. “Nothing about it was truly a good experience, save for it bringing us together as we are. It's twice now that death nearly had me, until I was saved by you.” She grasped Jack's hand tightly in her own and gazed at the farmer's green eyes. “If there is one thing positive to be said about grazing by death, it's that it is a teacher. And one thing it did teach me, Jack, was that you were truly a woman I could trust.” She shut her eyes and exhaled. “And truly a woman I could love. Perhaps we are not right for one-another in the strictest of senses, Jack. Even then, or perhaps because of it, I think we're perfect together. Despite our lack of time with one-another, I see you as the half that makes me far better than I truly am.” She slowly nodded, her words coming to her unevenly—a child reading through a difficult story. “With that in mind, I cannot simply reject your offer. Yet—“ she quickly began, staring down at Jack's hand. “Yet I know I'm not ready to become your fiance. I'm sorry for being conflicted on this, Jack. I truly, deeply am.”

“Don't be.” Jack put a hand to Rarity's face and rubbed soothingly at her cheek. “Ya take as long as ya need. I'll be here.” She then took Rarity's hand and put it against her heart. “Waitin' fer ya.”

“Jack...” Rarity breathed out. “One day,” she said. “One day, one day in the future, I believe—no, I know you'll see me wear your mother's ring. And on that day... I'll happily be yours.” Rarity weakly smiled, tilting Jack's head down to meet her mouth and kissing the farmer deeply. Jack could feel her eyes watering; she briefly broke away from their embrace to wipe at them.

“I never was this much of a crybaby 'fore I met ya,” she grumbled. Rarity held back a laugh.

“You're not a crybaby, Jack,” the soul-folk reassured. “There are times when if you hadn't cried, I'd wonder if you were mentally sound.” Rarity coyly smiled, reaching to Jack's shoulder. With a brush of her hand, she slipped off a strap of Jack's dress, exposing the farmer's bra on one side. “Besides,” she continued, reaching forward and moving the strap on Jack's other shoulder. “Even if you weren't before meeting me, I've changed because of you too...” She gestured around them. “I certainly would have balked at the thought of making love in a barn prior to meeting you, nor would I be content in being the dominating force in my... romantic encounters. Now, however...” the tailor leaned forward onto the tall woman, bringing out a small gasp of surprise from the earth-folk as Rarity kissed her neckline, then leaned farther on the woman still, pushing Jack onto her back. She looked down at Jack and took off her jacket, tossing it haphazardly towards the wagon as she unbuttoned her shirt.

“I can say I like this part of ya too,” Jack agreed, playfully wrapping her ankles around Rarity's waist. “Now help me get outta this damn dress.”

Outside, the crickets chirped, singing a quiet serenade for the lovers amid the light of the moon.