*-*-*Applejack*-*-*

Applejack considered herself an early riser. She took pride in her ability to greet the first rays of sunrise with a bowl of oats and a mug of warm coffee already in hoof. Most mornings, it wasn't the rooster's crow but the sound of Applejack starting on her morning chores that woke the rest of the household. So it came as a surprise to the orange mare when she awoke to a high-pitched giggle that drifted up to her room from downstairs.

Yawning, Applejack glanced out the window. The sky was only just beginning to lighten as dawn approached. A mild breeze whispered through the leafy expanse of orchard that she loved to look over each morning when she got up. A few song birds chirped intermittently, more to test their voices as they emerged from their nests than to sing in earnest. The last hour before dawn carried an almost reverent quietness with it.

Another giggle from below did not seem to pay that reverence any mind. Applejack shook the last bit of sleepiness from her head, frowning as she glanced down at her tangled mane. “Forgot ta take my hair ties out before bed again,” she chided herself, throwing her hooves over the side of the bed. She planned to run a brush through her mane before she started the day, but first Applejack wanted to find out who was making all the ruckus so early in the morning. She grabbed her hat off the nightstand and quietly slipped down the stairs.

“Hehe! The lil' legs tickle!” Applejack heard her little sister squeak in amusement as she marched down the wooden steps.

A familiar voice replied to her. “Then, if you poke 'em, they roll up into a ball. But you can only find them before it gets light. They go and hide under rocks in the daytime.”

“Pinkie?” Applejack asked as she peered around the corner that led out the front door of the farmhouse. Ponyville's pinkest baker sat outside on the porch with Apple Bloom, rolling a pill bug around with her nose.

A smile bright as sunrise crossed Pinkie Pie's face as she looked up. “Good morning, Applejack!” she greeted.

“Mornin',” the farm mare responded automatically. “Whatcha doin' out here so early, Pinkie?”

Her little sister hopped up excitedly. “Pinkie's teachin' me 'bout pill bugs! They're real neat! Wanna see?” Apple Bloom held out a hoof that did not have a pill bug on it. Frowning in confusion, the filly started twisting around in search of the creature.

Applejack let out a quiet chuckle. “How in tarnation didja manage ta get her up so early? I have ta drag that filly outa bed with a rope just ta get her to school on time!”

Pinkie giggled. “I told her she might get her cutie mark.”

“Twilight says bug-studyin' is called 'enta-malology,' ” said Apple Bloom, lifting up the welcome mat to peer underneath. “That sounds like a mouthful to say if somepony asks what my special talent is, but a rolled-up pill bug would be an awful neat cutie mark.” She dropped the welcome mat back down. “Now where'd he go?”

“I found him!” Pinkie Pie balanced the pill bug on the tip of her muzzle. With a flick of her head, she bounced it off her knee and over to Apple Bloom. “Now that you're up, Applejack, I can get to the other reason I'm over here.”

Applejack blinked. “Oh? What's that?”

“I want you to come fishing with me!” Pinkie puffed her chest out and nodded.

“Fishin'?” the orange mare repeated. “Pinkie, we're ponies. We don't eat fish.”

“The fish aren't for us, silly! They're for Fluttershy!”

“I'm pretty sure Fluttershy don't eat fish, neither.”

Pinkie giggled. “Okay, they're actually for Fluttershy's friend, Mr. Bearington.”

Applejack paused and thought a moment. “I'm guessin' Mr. Bearington is a bear.”

The pink mare nodded. “Yeppers! He's a big grizzly bear, and he's got a fever, so he can't catch any fish for himself, so Fluttershy asked me if I could catch some fish for him.” She took a breath. “And so I thought, 'This sounds like something fun I could do with Applejack!' So I decided I would come out here first thing in the morning, but I was too excited so I showed up early and I taught Apple Bloom how to find pill bugs!”

Applejack scratched the back of her head. “Uh, sure, Pinkie, that sounds like fun. I got a few chores ta get done around here, an' then I'll come with ya to the stream. 'S that alright?”

Judging from the way Pinkie was bouncing, it was more than alright. “Okie dokie! Oh, I can't wait, I'm so excited! This is going to be the bestest date ever!”

Applejack's eyebrows rose. “Uh, date?”

“Well yeah! That's what it's called when two ponies that love each other super duper extra much go and do something special and fun together!”

The gears in the apple-farmer's head started spinning. Pinkie had seemed to show up at Sweet Apple Acres more often recently. Now that she thought of it, Applejack could not think of a single week in the last few months that Pinkie had not been over to help bake pies, or invite Applejack to parties that none of their other friends had made it to, or just to hang around. The pink mare had seemed extra friendly lately, but Applejack had not paid it much attention. Pinkie was a friendly pony, after all.

Applejack's eyes drifted down to her little sister, who was still playing with her little friend. “Hey Apple Bloom, why don'tcha go make yourself some breakfast before it's time for school?”

“Aw, but I'm havin' fun right here,” she complained. “I can jus' have an apple on the walk over.”

“Sis, give the little fella a break. Rollin' around like that, he's probably dizzier than a skeeter on a salt lick.”

Apple Bloom pouted her lip out, but she let the pill bug down onto the ground, where it promptly unrolled and skittered toward the nearest rock.

Applejack watched as her sister shut the door, leaving the two mares outside. “I got some things ta put away around the barn,” she said, turning to Pinkie. “Ya wanna come walk with me?”

Pinkie nodded enthusiastically and bounced along behind as Applejack led her to the barn. “Anything for my super special somepony!”

The sun began to crest over the mountains as the two ponies reached the old farm structure. Applejack rounded about to face her friend directly. “Listen, Pinkie...”

*-*-*Applejack*-*-*

“I don't love ya. Not in that way. I'm sorry.”

Honesty was not a nice virtue. Honesty tore down dreams and stomped on hearts. It was the rising tide that toppled sand castles little foals had spent all day building. Not for the first time, Applejack wished she were able to pretend the truth was something other than it was. She wished she could smile wide and wrap her hooves around her friend, and say, 'I feel the same way, sugarcube.' She wished she did not have to watch as something broke like glass behind a pair of watery blue eyes.

When Pinkie Pie finally spoke, she did so softly that Applejack could have sworn it was Fluttershy's voice coming from her throat. “I know.” There was no comic deflation of the pink mare's bouncy mane. Her posture did not slump as though a sack of bricks had landed on her. The only visible change was a tiny quiver in the corners of her mouth and eyes.

An unexpected breeze made the farm pony shiver despite the warm morning sun heating the back of her neck. Though autumn had only just begun, the warm days were quickly running out and the specter of winter clung to the wind as a subtle chill. The rusted hinges of the barn door behind them groaned as the breeze pushed it open. In spite of herself, some part in the back of Applejack's mind added 'oil hinges' to her to-do list.

Pinkie shook her head vigorously, as though she could dislodge the look of disappointment from her face by physically brushing it off. Strangely enough, it even appeared to work, since when she stopped moving her head a bright, face-splitting grin stretched from one ear to the other. A giggle erupted from her that could only be described as Pinkie. “Well, come on! We don't wanna be late!”

Applejack sighed. “Pinkie, I just told you I—”

“You said you don't love me,” said Pinkie, as matter-of-factly as she might say that they were standing on grass, or that Twilight was a librarian. “You never said you didn't want to go fishing. Come on, let's go!” She pushed on Applejack's shoulders with both her front hooves.

“Sugar, I don't think—”

“Fluttershy said she was too busy overseeing the butterfly migration to feed Mr. Bearington. If we don't catch fish for him, he'll go hungry!” The baker looked at Applejack with pleading eyes.

The orange mare stiffened her legs, digging her hooves into the soft grass before finally relenting, letting her friend push her forward. “Okay, Pinks. For Mr. Bearington.” Pinkie's ploy was transparent, appealing to her sense of duty like that. Applejack did not like being manipulated, especially when she knew it was only going to hurt Pinkie more in the long run. But she knew she was not going to get anything done around the farm today until she helped her friend catch some fish.

*-*-*Pinkie*-*-*

“I don't love ya. Not in that way. I'm sorry.”

Pinkie Pie saw Applejack's lips moving before she truly heard the words. Perhaps she thought if she smiled wide enough, the sound would never reach her ears, and she could go on believing that the beautiful orange mare in front of her was saying something else—anything other than what she was saying. 'I sure am thirsty,' she imagined Applejack saying, 'let's go on inside an' get some water.' Or hay, while she was imagining things, 'Shucks, Pinkie, I love you too.' If she squinted, she could almost match the lip movements.

But though Pinkamena Diane Pie was capable of many things, freezing words in midair was beyond her powers. The words stung like only the truth could. And she knew they were the truth before she heard them. Before they were even spoken. Before she had even asked. “I know,” she said. It was all she could say. She had known from the beginning that it was nothing more than a silly fantasy.

A cold, hollow fear took hold in Pinkie's chest. It was all backwards. She was not supposed to feel afraid now that she had already lost something that she had, in fact, never had. Depression, that kind of emotion would have been appropriate for the situation. Disappointment that her love would go unrequited. Gratitude, even, that her friend was good enough not to lead her on. But instead, Pinkie's skull buzzed with blind, flailing panic. Icy needles jabbed at her heart from every direction, and her only thought was how to make the pain stop, if only for a moment.

She did what she had always been taught to do in the face of fear. She laughed. “Well, come on!” Pinkie heard herself say, “We don't wanna be late!”

Pinkie Pie watched Applejack's brows furrow in concern. “Pinkie, I just told you I—” No. Nononono, stop!

“You said you don't love me,” Pinkie interrupted. It ripped her insides apart to say it out loud, but it was better than listening to Applejack say it again. So long as Pinkie said it herself, it could be just another one of the silly things that came out of her mouth for no real reason. 'Chimicherrychangas.' 'Pickle barrels.' 'Applejack doesn't love me.' 'Kumquats.' “You never said you didn't want to go fishing. Come on, let's go!” She pushed her friend in the direction of the stream. It was more an expressive gesture than an attempt to physically move the mare. Pinkie could be surprisingly strong when it was called for, but it would take ten of her to make Applejack go somewhere she did not want to go.

“Sugar, I don't think—”

“Fluttershy said she was too busy overseeing the butterfly migration to feed Mr. Bearington. If we don't catch fish for him, he'll go hungry!” There was no reason Mr. Bearington should have to suffer just because Pinkie did not get her way.

Applejack squared her jaw. For a moment, she looked angry. Pinkie winced, but continued pushing on her shoulder all the same. Finally, the farm pony sighed and took a step toward the road. “Okay, Pinks. For Mr. Bearington.”

Pinkie Pie was not stupid. There was perhaps a case to be made for crazy, but she was clever enough to recognize when she was hurting herself. She knew it would be better—healthier for her to let herself have a cry about it and move on. There would be other ponies out there that could make her smile the way AJ did. Almost the way AJ did. There would be other ponies out there that were as kind and dependable as AJ was. Almost as kind and dependable as AJ was. And though it felt like heresy to even think it, there would be other ponies out there that were as good-looking as AJ. Almost as good-looking as AJ. Maybe half as good-looking as AJ.

But a special sort of stubbornness ran deep in Pinkie's blood. It was the sort of stubbornness that drove a stallion named Clyde Pie to plant rocks in a field and watch for them to grow. It was the sort of stubbornness that led the earth pony tribe on a long trek across wintery wastes with nothing but empty canteens and incomplete maps to settle in a far off land they would eventually call Equestria. It was the sort of stubbornness that caused the first starving farmers to dig a hole, throw seeds in it, dump water on it, then wait to see what would happen. Earth pony stubbornness huddled in Pinkie Pie's bones, snapping and growling at anyone that told it it should move somewhere else, and it would not let her give up on Applejack.

The baker bounded along the road, humming tunelessly and keeping her pace slow enough for the orange mare behind her to keep up. Applejack doesn't love me... yet.

*-*-*Applejack*-*-*

The cool stream water felt good on Applejack's legs. The constant push of the current tugged at her fetlocks as she stood watching for fish. Dappled shadows cast by a grove of trees mottled the waters, leaving spaces of dark and light among the muddy bottom for them to hide in. Her green eyes narrowed as she spotted movement against the current. Next to a bank of stones ground smooth by the moving waters was a fat old trout beating its tail against the stream.

She took a slow, deliberate step forward, careful not to disturb the water too much. The trout continued obliviously. Applejack set her teeth in a determined grimace, readying her rear legs to push off in a pounce. “Gotcha!” she shouted, leaping forward in a wet splash. A fishy tail squirmed between her forehooves, slapping her in the snout before disappearing into the stream with a sploosh.

Applejack spat stream water out of her mouth. “There's gotta be a better way ta do this,” she complained.

Downstream, Pinkie Pie whipped a mottled gray fish out of the brook, adding it to a growing pile on the bank. “You gotta move with the water,” she advised.

Applejack scratched the back of her head. “How many fish do we gotta catch, anyway?” She did not understand why anything would want to actually eat these things. They were slimy, they smelled bad, and judging from the taste they left in her mouth the few times she had managed to get a hold on the slippery varmints, they had nothing on apples where flavor was concerned.

“Mr. Bearington is a pretty big bear,” Pinkie said, hovering her muzzle over the surface of the water. She tensed as though ready to strike, but relaxed again. “So, you're interested in stallions, is that it?”

The orange mare frowned. With the distraction of the fish, she had started to believe the subject had been dropped. “Not that it's anypony's business which way my tail swings, but no, that ain't it. I ain't particularly opposed ta relations with other mares.” She ducked her head into the stream, partially because she spotted a fish, but also partially to cool her rapidly heating cheeks.

Applejack tried to follow her friend's advice, moving with the current. The fish bolted, but she anticipated the movement, closing her teeth around its dorsal fin. She jerked her head out of the water, and to her mild surprise, the fish came with her. Flecks of slimy fish taste seeped into Applejack's mouth as the trout flopped in her grip.

Her triumphant grin was met with an uncharacteristically serious look on Pinkie Pie's face. “What is the reason, then?” the pink mare asked.

The fish dropped out of Applejack's jaws, splashing loudly back into the stream. “Damn it, Pinkie, why you gotta ask questions ya know ya won't like hearin' the answer to?” she shouted.

Pinkie fell back on her haunches as though physically struck. Water soaked her mane, dragging it down with gravity in a tangled mess. As colorful as her language sometimes got, Applejack almost never truly swore.

The apple farmer huffed and turned her attention to the muddy stream bed. The fish were nowhere to be seen; all the noise had scared them away. Applejack's shoulders sagged. “It ain't a question of attraction, if that's what ya think, sugar. Yer a mighty fine lookin' mare. I just don't see us workin' out in the long run.” She spoke so softly that she was not sure Pinkie actually could hear her. But her friend did not ask her to repeat herself or speak up, so she continued. “You're a lot of fun, Pinkie. An' Celestia knows I need to let myself have fun more often. But I can't afford ta have fun all the time. I got responsibilities, but more'n that, I just don't think I'd be able to keep up. Smilin' muscles get tired after a while.”

The brook babbled along, utterly oblivious to the brooding silence that hung between the two earth ponies. Applejack kept her gaze fixed on the stream bed as though looking for more fish, but it was obvious that even if a fish had jumped into her hat she would not have been paying enough attention to catch it.

Pinkie sniffed once and dragged her hooves up onto the muddy bank. “This is—” her voice cracked and she stopped to take a breath. She began again in a lower, slower tone. “This is probably enough fish to last Mr. Bearington for a while.” The pink mare unrolled a blanket and began piling the morning's catch onto it.

Applejack sighed and trudged to the shore. She took a moment to shake the excess water off herself before approaching near enough to put a hoof on Pinkie's shoulder. Pinkie froze, a fish dropping out of her mouth and flopping on the grass. “Hey,” Applejack said. When Pinkie did not turn to face her, the farmer moved herself to look her friend in the eyes. “You an' me are always gonna be the best a' friends, ya hear? Celestia's sun can burn clean out, ain't nothin' gonna change that between us. Just 'cause I ain't interested in pursuin' that kinda relationship don't mean there's anythin' in this world you can't come to me about. You understand?”

Pinkie nodded slowly. “Yeah, AJ, I understand. You're a good—” she paused, her eyes watering. She pushed a smile onto her face. “—a good friend.”

Applejack drew Pinkie Pie into a hug. The soggy pink mane soaked the side of her face as she patted her friend's back with a foreleg. She could feel Pinkie's pulse racing with the contact. “There ya go. Now, c'mon. Let's get these fish gathered up. I used ta think pigs smelled bad, but these things...”

The pink baker giggled softly. “They aren't exactly fresh cookies, are they?”

“I reckon that ol' bear's sick 'cause he eats nasty ol' things like this,” laughed Applejack as she nipped a trout by the tail and tossed it onto the blanket. Within a few minutes they bundled all the fish up into a neat pouch which Pinkie slung across her back.

“I'm gonna take these to Fluttershy's cottage, then. You wanna come with, AJ?”

Applejack shook her head. “I still got farm work to do, sugar.” Her stomach growled, reminding her that she never did get around to eating breakfast. “An' a powerful need to get somethin' in my mouth that don't taste like fish,” she added. “Tell Fluttershy I said hello.”

Pinkie Pie giggled, a bit more loudly this time. “Okay. I'll see you later, Applejack!”

“Yup! Later, Pinkie!”

*-*-*Fluttershy*-*-*

The butterfly migration had gone even better than Fluttershy had expected. Her special talent was of course handling animals, but she found butterflies to be even more cooperative for her than most woodland creatures were. All it took for her was a few gentle words, and the colorful swarm would obligingly divert away from the high-speed air route that the pegasus mail service used. A nod and some encouragement would steer the butterflies toward a field of flowers that Roseluck had requested to be pollinated as the migration passed by Ponyville. Even the tourists that showed up each year with their cameras to witness the spectacle had been especially well-behaved this season, though the flash photography still made Fluttershy nervous.

By the time the migration had left Ponyville, Fluttershy still had much more of her day left to her than she had anticipated. More than enough time to head back and check on Mr. Bearington. As she made her way home, she wondered to herself how Pinkie was doing catching fish for the poor bear. Most ponies did not understand the dietary needs of an omnivore like Mr. Bearington, and Fluttershy hoped Pinkie would not try to feed him cupcakes or something.

The yellow pegasus shook her head and smiled. As silly as Pinkie sometimes was, Fluttershy trusted her to get fish like the bear needed. Plus, with this extra time she now had to care for him, Mr. Bearington would surely be back on his paws in no time. Today was shaping up to be a very good day.

...Or not. Finding a friend sitting dejectedly in front of her home, sobbing into a sack of fish was not a situation Fluttershy encountered very often, but she knew it was not a thing that happened on good days. The pegasus' ears drooped as she made her way up the hill to her front door. “Pinkie?”

The distressed mare looked up, her eyes red and puffy. She made a pathetic attempt at a smile. “Oh, hi Fluttershy,” she said, her voice raspy and ragged. The effort she put into making it sound cheerful just made her sound even more forlorn.

Fluttershy's wings twitched in concern. Her instinctive reaction to any kind of unhappiness was to flee or hide, and she had to consciously remind herself that there was a friend in front of her that needed comfort. “What's wrong?” she asked, slowly shrugging off her saddlebags.

Pinkie sniffed. “The door was locked.”

Fluttershy tilted her head and frowned. Nopony—Pinkie Pie especially—bawled like that over a locked door. Especially considering Fluttershy had witnessed Pinkie, on more than one occasion, get into a locked room without any trouble at all. “I'm sorry,” she said, fishing her keys out of her saddlebags. “I thought you would be out longer fishing.”

A dam broke in both Pinkie's voice and her tear ducts. “I've been baking pies with Applejack,” she gurgled, “and swimming with her and inviting her to two-pony parties, and it was really super fun, and I really, really liked spending time with her, and then I realized that it wasn't the pies or the swimming or the parties that I liked, I liked her, and then I realized that I didn't just like her, I really, really liked her, and so this morning I told her that I love her and she told me that she doesn't love me back, not in that way, but she still helped me catch fish for Mr. Bearington because she's really, really nice, but I'm still sad because I thought she might love me back, but I thought I could at least bring Mr. Bearington his fish so he doesn't go hungry, so I brought the fish but the door was locked so now all I am is a silly pony with a locked door, a broken heart, and a sack full of fish!” Pinkie took a deep breath before breaking out into a fresh round of wet sobs.

Fluttershy blinked, her key ring hanging from her mouth. She coughed a bit at the metallic taste. “Um, well, I can fix the door,” she offered, inserting the key into the lock. The door swung open with a soft creak. “Why don't you come inside, Pinkie? If you want, that is. I'll check on Mr. Bearington's fever and then we can put on some tea and talk about it. Is that okay?”

Pinkie Pie nodded and dragged the blanket full of fish inside with her. The living room was the only room in the cottage big enough to keep a bear in. A mountain of rough brown fur rose and fell with the bear's breath in the far corner of the room, blocking most of the light from the window behind him.

“How is my beary-weary feeling today?” the pegasus cooed, flapping her wings to get a good angle to press her hooves against the animal's hide to feel for a temperature and a pulse. The bear's fever did not seem any better than yesterday, but at least his pulse was steady. He let out a low groan. Fluttershy fluttered over to the bag of fish, pulling a fat trout out by the tail. “I hab' a speshl' treat por you,” she said through her teeth. She slipped the fish into the waiting paws of Mr. Bearington, who began to suckle on it like a lollipop.

Fluttershy smiled tenderly at her charge before dragging the rest of the fish into her freezer. Most of the food in there was for her animals, not for her. The few vegetables she set aside for herself were dwarfed by the sacks of birdseed, nuts, berries, and occasional bits of meat she kept on hoof to feed her woodland friends. She shut the door to the freezer and trotted over to fetch a kettle from her cupboard.

She found Pinkie staring blankly at the table while the water heated on the stove. It worried the canary pegasus to see her typically exuberant friend so down. Fluttershy did not think herself the best candidate for the job of cheering the party pony up. Twilight was smart, and she had spent the last two years studying friendships; she would know what to do here. Rarity knew all about romance and social graces; she would know what to say to Pinkie. Fluttershy was sorely tempted to suggest to Pinkie that they go and see Rarity, but that would not be fair to her.

She decided to start simple. “Um, thank you for catching those fish, Pinkie.”

The pink mare nodded sullenly, her eyes not leaving the table.

Fluttershy frowned at the silence. She had hoped Pinkie might say something, but it looked like she would have to take the lead in this conversation. “Um... would you like to tell me—oh, my.” The pegasus was interrupted by the high whistle of steam from the kettle. She got up from the table and took the water off the heat. She emerged from the kitchen with a steaming mug of tea balanced carefully on each wing.

Fluttershy set Pinkie's mug on the table and held her own between her hooves, blowing on it gently to cool it. “Would you like to tell me what happened?” she asked, peering over the rim of her mug. “I mean, you don't have to. Just, if you want,” she added.

Pinkie slowly reached out for her tea. Fluttershy winced as she watched the mare take a slurp without letting the scalding drink cool down at all. Pinkie did not seem to be fazed by the heat. “Have you ever been in love, Fluttershy?” The tea at least seemed to be doing her voice some good.

Fluttershy considered the question. She recalled a few foalhood crushes, but they had been brief and fairly unremarkable. She figured she would remember if she had ever felt anything worth calling love. “I don't think so, Pinkie. I'm sorry.” Her wings drooped. Some help she was being for her friend. A minute of silence passed between the two ponies, broken by the labored breaths from the other room. After fidgeting uncomfortably with her mug of tea, Fluttershy tried prodding her again. “Maybe you could start at the beginning?”

Pinkie nodded. “Okay,” she said. “I've been spending a lot of time with Applejack lately...”

<--->Pinkie<--->

Pinkie Pie's left ear was itchy. The response most ponies would have to an itchy left ear would be to scratch it. Some of the more patient types might have ignored the itch and waited for it to go away. Pinkie Pie was not most ponies, and 'patient' was not at the top of the list of words one would use to describe her. No, Pinkie's reaction to an itchy left ear was to glance across the bakery to the sofa where her employers, landlords and good friends the Cakes sat, curling up against one another after a long day of baking and caring for the foals. The day still was not over, but with Pound and Pumpkin down for a nap and the biggest rush of the day over with, the couple took advantage of their well-earned break.

A wide grin spread across the pink party pony's face. She nosed the cash register shut and hung her apron on a hook by the counter. “I'm gonna go for a walk. I'll be out for a little while. You two lovebirds have fun!” She bounded off for the door.

“How does she always know?” Mrs. Cake whispered at a volume she thought Pinkie could not hear. Mr. Cake simply shrugged and pulled his wife in closer.

The door to Sugarcube Corner shut behind Pinkie, who took a deep breath of the late afternoon air. Her lips smacked on the fresh moisture left in the atmosphere from the light drizzle the pegasi had arranged earlier in the day. The cobbled streets were spotted with sunlight as the weatherponies flitted about clearing the rainclouds from the sky.

Pinkie wore a bright smile as Ponyville clopped beneath her hooves. She had a whole town full of friends to greet. Every smiling face she passed filled her with such glee that she could hardly keep her hooves on the ground, instead bouncing along like a spring.

“Hiya, Lyra! What's goin' on, Bon Bon?” A teal unicorn and a cream earth pony looked up from their table as Pinkie waved at them. “Whatca up to?”

“Oh, hi Pinkie Pie,” said Lyra. “Bonnie's having me try out some of her new chocolates. They're really good!”

Pinkie bounced excitedly. “Ooh, can I try one?”

Bon Bon's eyes widened and she put out a hoof to stop the pink baker. “Actually... they're kinda special chocolates.”

Pinkie Pie noticed the half-lidded stare Lyra was giving the cream-colored mare. She nodded and gave Bon Bon a knowing wink. “Ohh, I gotcha. You two have a good day!” Pinkie bounded off before her ear had a chance to start itching again.

The wide branches of the tree that housed the Ponyville library came into view. Visiting Twilight was always good for some fun. Maybe she would get to wear the hat in the basement with all the blinking lights again. Pinkie happily twisted the doorknob in her mouth and stepped inside.

Spike stood in front of a mirror, fidgeting with a jewel-studded bowtie. “Twilight,” he shouted, “Is this the bowtie Rarity gave to me, or the one she gave to Owlowicious?”

“If you kept your closet clean, that wouldn't be a mystery,” came Twilight's chiding reply from upstairs. After a minute she appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a lace-trimmed saddle and half-applied makeup. “It's probably yours, Spike. Owlowicious keeps his in the top shelf of the dresser. Oh, Pinkie! I didn't hear you come in!”

Spike continued to fiddle with his bowtie. “Darn thing won't fit,” he grumbled, tugging at it.

Pinkie waved her hoof. “Hi, Twilight! Whatcha dressing up for? Is there a party?”

The librarian shook her head, levitating a compact mirror out of the bathroom to finish her makeup. “Rarity is going to some kind of fashion show. Apparently, it's 'unfashionable' to go to these sorts of things alone, so she asked me to come with.” She jerked her head toward her scaly assistant. “Spike seems to think that because she said he could come along too it makes it a date.”

Spike's cheeks flushed red. “Hey, I can hope, can't I? Besides, even if it isn't one, it can't hurt to just look nice for her.” He growled in frustration trying to adjust his studded bowtie. The little dragon was about to pitch the uncooperative thing on the ground when Twilight's magical aura enveloped it and tied the bow neatly around his neck. He smiled gratefully at his purple benefactor.

“If two friends are fashionable, I bet three friends would make Rarity the most super-fancy fashiontastic pony at the whole show!” Pinkie Pie bounced excitedly. “Not that she isn't already a super-duper fancy fashiontastic fashionista already,” she added as an afterthought.

Twilight's smile dimmed slightly. “I'm sorry, Pinkie, I didn't think to extend the invitation to you. It didn't sound like your kind of thing. Rarity described it to me as, 'a bunch of stuffed shirts coughing politely at one another.' I'm sure she would love to have you along, but there's a guest list, and it's a little too late to make changes...”

Pinkie snorted. “That's okay, Twilight! So long as you have fun, that's what matters!” She winked at Spike. “Good luck on your maybe-sort-of-a-date with Rarity!” Spike blushed profusely as the pink mare turned and cantered back out onto the streets.

Gee, is it Hearts and Hooves Day and I forgot? Pinkie wondered as she watched what seemed like the whole population of Ponyville pair off into twos. Big Mac leaned against the side of the schoolhouse, nodding easily as he listened to Cheerilee talk with him. Ditzy Doo grinned sheepishly at the one brown stallion who was a doctor even though he didn't work at the hospital. Up in the sky, one grayish-lavender pegasus whispered something to a white pegasus, who began blushing furiously.

Pinkie Pie was not certain when her bouncing gait had slowed to a trot. She also was unsure when the streets of Ponyville had become the dirt road to Sweet Apple Acres beneath her hooves. Her ears perked forward as she caught a glimpse of bright orange. “Hi, Applejack!”

“Howdy, Pinkie! What's up?” Applejack sauntered up to lean on her white fence.

“All kinds of things,” remarked Pinkie. “First, I decided to give Mr. and Mrs. Cake some time to themselves since they were getting all cuddly. Then Bon Bon was feeding Lyra some 'special' chocolates. Twilight and Spike are going with Rarity to some kind of fashion thing where ponies cough on each other, and Spike thinks it's maybe sort of kinda a date, but I hope they don't catch a cold from all the coughing! Your brother was talking with Cheerilee, and I think Dashie was out clearing clouds, but I didn't see her.” The pink mare did not stop to take a breath until her cheeks began to turn blue.

Applejack chuckled. “So... yer bored to tears, then?”

“You have no idea!” Pinkie exclaimed.

“Well, I was just thinkin' about bakin' some pies. Ya wanna come on in and help?”

Pinkie's eyes glimmered. “Would I ever!”

<--->Fluttershy<--->

Fluttershy listened carefully as her friend spent the better part of the afternoon talking about her adventures with Applejack, her budding feelings for the farm mare, all the way on up to the events of this morning. The pegasus occasionally needed to stop Pinkie so she could go and check on Mr. Bearington, get him a fresh blanket, or change out the compress strapped to his head, but apart from these interruptions she gave Pinkie her undivided attention. More than once, this attention included patting a hoof on the pink mare's back as she broke into tears.

“Shh, it's okay,” Fluttershy cooed. She furrowed her brow in thought as her friend buried her face into her shoulder. She had even less of an idea of how to help Pinkie now than she had before the pink mare had told her everything. If Applejack did not want that kind of a relationship with Pinkie Pie, nopony was going to change her mind. But Fluttershy could not look at her tear-sodden friend and bear to think of telling her so.

The pegasus opted to try and keep her talking. Maybe Pinkie might work something out for herself if she just kept saying something. “Um, if you don't mind me asking,” Fluttershy licked her lips, carefully choosing her words. “Why Applejack? I mean, she is a really nice pony and all, but, um... sometimes she's a bit serious. Not that serious is bad,” she hastily added, “and not that I'm saying you can't be serious when you want to, but... um.” Fluttershy desperately tried to grasp at the threads of what she had been trying to say.

“I know,” sniffed Pinkie. “She said the same thing this morning.”

Fluttershy remained silent, hoping her friend would continue.

“It's her smile,” Pinkie said, sipping the last of her tea. Fluttershy moved to refill the cup, but the pink mare shook her head. “There's a lot of different smiles out there. There's the determined smirk Dashie gets when she's performing a new trick. There's the triumphant grin Twilight gets when she solves a problem. There's the warm smile you get when you're helping something that's hurt.”

Fluttershy blushed self-consciously.

“But every once in a while, I see Applejack with a smile I've only ever seen once before. Her regular smile is really great, too, it's bright and honest and makes anypony feel welcome. But now and then, when the right things happen, she smiles just the same way my sisters and my mom and dad did at the first party I ever threw. I need to see that kind of smile again.”

Fluttershy thought for a moment. “Well... do you really have to be Applejack's special somepony in order to see her smile?”

Pinkie raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Um, well, you're very good at making ponies smile,” the pegasus explained, “and you do that just by being their friend. Do you need to be Applejack's fillyfriend in order to make her smile?”

Pinkie rubbed her chin. “Maybe I don't...”

A low complaining moan came from the next room. Fluttershy excused herself to go and check on Mr. Bearington. His fish was chewed down to the bones. “It looks like you're getting your appetite back,” she commented, sweeping up the fish bones to throw in the compost. She retrieved another fish from the freezer. “I think you'll be back to your old self soon.”

When the pegasus returned to the table Pinkie had already stood up. A smile crossed her lips, not quite as wide as Pinkie Pie's standard smile, but genuine all the same. “Thanks for the tea, Fluttershy,” she said, “and for listening.”

“You're going?” Fluttershy asked. “Are you sure you'll be okay?”

“I'll be okay,” she said, taking a few steps for the door. Pinkie stopped as she passed Fluttershy and put a hoof on her back. “Really, thank you.”