A/N: I decided to try something new this time, so I took on sports. Now me, I am not a sporty person, but I did always have a weak spot for baseball. So here I am, writing a shipping fic that includes baseball. I hope you enjoy it. Also, mature content in late chapters so... enjoy that? Further, new cover image coming soon.
POV: Written from Rainbow Dash's perspective, the whole way through.
Curveball
1. Play Ball
Unhappiness was like a toxic spill, like a contagious virus that hopped around between scornful sneers and snagged on the wandering thoughts of any who pondered some idea of prosperity. Melancholy was unbridled, it was an infection and dragged any who even spoke or wrote the word into a state of sullen depression. At least, that's the gist of my teacher must have been blabbering about last week. I was asleep half the time, so I couldn't really be sure. It sounded right to me, I was no picture of beaming happiness myself, in fact, I was just the opposite. I always acted so tremendously ambitious or content around my friends, but it was a facade. Sure, I knew my life could be so much worse, but right now I just hated it. I especially hated it when it felt like I was just talking to a wall.
"Are you even listening to me?!" I found myself screaming across the room at the girl ignoring me, who flinched and nearly stabbed herself in the thumb with the needle in her hand and swallowed the pins in her mouth. She managed to turn around and give me with devil of a glare, intensified by her sharp-ended mascara-coated eyelashes. I just made some grouchy scowl and sank back into the chair lazily, tucking my hands behind my multi-toned hair.
"Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Yes I was listening, darling," She responded with half of her mouth, the other half still biting on the pins. "You were saying?"
"You'd know if you were listening!" I snapped again, but groaned as I slid my hands forward over my eyes instead, pressing them against my head and running them through my bangs, which were mostly red, orange, or yellow. Some stray stands of green sometimes made their way up there, but I couldn't care much less at the moment, "Its getting worse, Rarity, I can't even get control of myself."
"I don't know what makes you think I'm the one to discuss this with." Rarity shrugged as she cautiously put another pin into the hem of the dress on the mannequin, which would not have flinched if she had accidentally stabbed it.
"What do you mean? You're the only person I know who talks about romance as though it's a damn fashion trend, going on about who's the hottest guy in school or the most, the most— what's that world you use?" I blabbered on, moving my hands a bit through the air as I tried to iterate.
"Refined, darling. But that's hardly the issue, my expertise is more suited for, well, those of us who are interested in," She paused as though saying it aloud might offend me or hurt my feelings or something, but my glare egged her on, "Men. You've been interested in women for as long as I can recall, what makes you think I can suddenly give you good advice now?"
"Not women, Rarity, just," I tried to correct, but as the object of my affection came to mind I had to draw in a breath as I slipped further into the drama department's most comfortable chair, "Her."
"Yes, well," She shrugged my daydreaming off and went back to working with her fabrics, which I think she was designing for the school's production a few weeks away, "Just because I'm the only one who happened to stumble onto this little secret of yours, that doesn't mean you can just barge in here and confide in me all the intimate little details." She looked back and saw me sulking, and her tone lightened considerably, "Not that I don't want to help you dear, as a good friend I would be more than happy to help. I just know that I can't."
"I just want her out of my head, already!" I groaned loudly as I tingled to even imagine her anywhere outside of my head, "I even joined every single sports team in school, filling up all my free time so I could work her out of my urges, but nothing works. Come on, Rare, what do you do if you've got a guy on the brain?"
"Well, usually I would be the one on—" She stopped herself short as that came to sound rather less than dignified, clearly she was only intending to say that guys usually were the ones to come after her. "Nevermind, I already told you about the sappy movies and ice cream, didn't I?"
"Yeah, that went over well," I grumbled sarcastically as I turned around in the chair like I was uncomfortable, the fabric squeaking around under me, "I was doing just that, blinds all pulled shut with a tub of Neapolitan, enjoying myself perfectly fine. But she ended up stopping by after school when she noticed I didn't show up. She thought I was sick, and she brought over this delicious home-made soup and sat there with me until I convinced her I was fine."
"Well you probably shouldn't have skipped school to wallow in self pity, for starters," Rarity muttered to the last pin as she removed another and pinched it into the clothing. "And the fact that she stayed behind with you shows that she cares, perhaps you're not the only one with the crush, hm?"
"Don't tease me Rarity," I felt the idea tug at my chest, filling me up with false hope, "We both know she doesn't even date. Besides, I'm pretty sure she's straight." She didn't say anything else for a second, but like usual I just wanted to stuff every moment with thinking and talking about her, "It's just getting so bad, you know? Every time I see her I just want to jump on her, I just want to, to," I held my hands out and gripped angrily at the air, just imagining what I could do to her. I just groaned loudly again and left the sentence hanging as it was.
"Listen, usually my advice would be to tell her how you feel, but I don't think you should," Rarity was trying, at least, though it wasn't quite what I wanted to hear, "I know that if some girl, regardless of whether she was my friend or not, came up to me and started confessing even half of the things you've told me? Well, I would be utterly dumbstruck, devastated, I would feel just awful that I would have to deal with letting her down. It's rather rare to find a girl who would even consider that, um, lifestyle. I just don't want you to get hurt or rejected, and I certainly don't want to see you lose her as a friend over this, I mean you two are just darling as friends."
"I know, I know, it just doesn't feel like enough." I growled, hating the way Rarity was making it sound as if I would automatically be rejected. I probably would, but I didn't want to hear it. "We've been best friends for like, years, and it just sucks that I have to ruin it with all this. And yeah, sure, I've been asked out a couple of times, but I always have to say no, and do you know why?" I peeked up at her, watching her glance over and shake her head, "Because they're not her. They're not Applejack."
Just saying her name forced me into a smile. It was ridiculous how just moving my mouth in such a manner and speaking could force a response so predictably irresistible. I closed my eyes and relaxed, letting my breath roll out of my nostrils in a slow and easy breeze, my heart racing into my fingers and toes. I felt her name hot on my lips again, and wished I could have more. But I was silent, and I could feel Rarity looking at me, observing me in this odd euphoric state I always got in when I could do it and no one could see. But despite the fact that the mere idea of Applejack could rattle me so deeply, not to mention the sight or the smell, I was still so unhappy.
"Why don't you try talking to someone else? I don't think I'm helping." Rarity spoke up, interrupting my thoughts and my misery. I stared blankly at her as I tried to think of anyone I would even want to tell, "Pinkie might not be your best choice, seeing as how she never discusses serious issues at length, but I imagine Twilight would have something to say, she always does. And how about Fluttershy? She's been your friend the longest, hasn't she?"
"I can't imagine Fluttershy having anything useful to say," I muttered as I imagined her nervously stuttering something about friendship and boundaries and, God forbid, sex. It was funny to imagine her trying to sort through it, but she'd probably just faint or avoid the subject if I actually brought it up. "Well anyway, I'm going to be late for baseball practice. As team captain I should probably at least try to be there on time. Thanks again for the chat, Rare."
"Uh, yes, you are certainly welcome, Rainbow Dash." She managed to say with grace, though my abrupt exit was clearly just as odd as my sudden entrance. I left her alone in the drama room, surrounded by those costumes and crap she seemed to love so much.
I ran through the halls faster than I needed to, because really I didn't care if I was late. But I felt like running, like pushing my body to do anything else rather than linger on Applejack again. The field was on the other side of the school from the arts department, but the building itself was kind of small so it didn't take many strides to clear it. School had ended a good half hour ago, which was more than long enough for me to get changed into my uniform and bother Rarity with my personal dilemmas. So there I was, running in the halls like I knew I shouldn't, wearing my black tank top and my uniform blue-striped white pants.
I never wore the striped shirt when I played, mostly because I wasn't a big fan of wearing the number three on my back. Most schools assigned shirt numbers based on batting order, but it was a tradition here to have them assigned to positions instead. Saved us having to make new jackets, I guess. Number one suited me best because of how clearly awesome I am, but I was no pitcher and that jacket was reserved for our ace, which we had yet to find or train. Right now we had our second baseman and an outfielder switched between tossing the balls for us, but they were nothing special. Me, I was the captain so I got the number three, but I liked playing third base, that's where all the action was.
I made my way to the door by the gym, the fastest way to get to the field, I'd know. As I pushed the door open I squinted my eyes in the sunshine, but was not stalled long. I heard the door fall back into place noisily behind me as the scuffed floors beneath my feet turned to grass and dirt, a nice change. I could see the team already gathering at the dugout, stretching and organizing the bats and such like they always did to waste time before I arrived. I hurried across the field and was just about to grab the pole that bordered the fence and swing around it as usual, when someone stepped right in front of me.
"Howdy, Rainbow." She smiled that charming crooked grin of her as the words came out. My face went reddish as I stopped myself just in time, her body a mere inch from mine, her lips, so close...
"Applejack! What are, uh, what are you doing here?" I spoke as to distract myself, swallowing any impure thoughts and blaming my fluster on the brisk run. She wasn't on our team, so it was weird that she was standing here, and dressed in flattering sweats with her usual cowboy hat absent.
"I'm here to try out for your baseball team," Applejack told me with a presumptuous and eager smile, her eyes lighting up in the sunshine and at the sight of me, "I've been considerin' it mighty hard for some time, but I finally just decided to go ahead and do it." Go ahead and do it, she said. I bit at my lip a bit before I thought of an excuse to keep her away, I couldn't have her in such close vicinity to me when I was thinking about going ahead and... doing something.
"I can't let you play," Really, I couldn't, I joined my sports teams exactly to get away from her. It was her ever pestering image in my head that had be crazy, I needed my alone time. I had some reason to deny the request, so I went for it, "Everyone else came for the try outs, and I mean they did all the work practising and preparing. It'd be like I was playing favourites, is all."
"Well I sure don't want to put you in a bind, Rainbow." I wouldn't mind if she did, but I kept that idea to myself. "Your catcher already went and showed me some of you're signals, to boot." Applejack was graceful about my turning her away, but mentioning the catcher made me wonder. "How's about this then," Her voice came back to me, and my eyes darted up to hers as if I didn't care how obvious they begged her to lean into me. She already had a baseball in her hand, and she tossed it in front of me and caught it without even glancing over at her movements, movements I couldn't help but stare at, "I'mma pitcher, see, and from what I hear you've got the most hits on the whole darn team. So I say, if I can strike you out at bat, you lemme on the team. Sound fair?"
"Well, we don't have much of a pitcher yet, I guess," I had to agree now, since she just issued a direct challenge to the most competitive girl in school. She definitely knew her way around me, that's for sure. It tickled me to imagine what else she might be good at making me do, but I bit the perverted smile back. The other girls on the team all started looking over here as if they knew what I was thinking by the light blush on my cheeks, but clearly they did not.
"So it's settled!" Applejack hit my in the shoulder with an open-palmed slap, and I could feel my body respond to her touch. She played with the baseball in her hand again, and I noticed that it wasn't one of ours, it was older and dirtier, but in fine condition. That ball was clearly Applejack's personal property, "You'd better bring your A-game there sugar cube, 'cuz I ain't lookin' to lose."
"Just don't be too upset if that ball of yours gets lost on the woods over the fence," I played rough with her, snatching a bat from the line of them leaning against the fence and pointing across the field with the end of it. Applejack just smirked at my aggressive nature.
"I ain't worried. Body as slim as yours," Applejack strode past me, her breath brushing my ear as she whispered low and close. I felt the heat of her so near to me, and noticed her eyes flickering up and down my form, "You ain't fit for sluggin'."
I watched her as she kept walking past me, my hungry gaze lingering barely hidden beneath a confident smirk. The rest of the team gathered up to watch, and our catcher finished getting into her gear before she came out to home plate. I swung the bat around a few times to get used to the weight of it again, though I knew I wouldn't really need to warm up. Applejack bent her glove over her fingers to limber it up, and I could already tell it was another unfamiliar piece of equipment. She kicked at the mound a bit before she decided where her feet liked to stand, and she did a couple good stretches of her own, which I tried to avoid leering at.
I stepped up to the plate eagerly as usual, I mean Applejack was right when she said I had the most hits. She was also right that I couldn't send them over the fence, but I could hit almost anything. I was quite slim, my body more suited to speed than power, so it was no surprise I didn't have much momentum behind the ball. Applejack just stood there looking at me for a moment, like she was sizing me up or waiting for me to sink into my stance. Finally, she leaned forward and hid her fingers, playing around with the ball a bit as her eyes dropped to the catcher's mitt. Right, she had been shown some of our signs. I glanced once or twice quickly, and that was enough.
I had good eyes, see, so I could already tell what she was going to throw by what the catcher was signalling. My team had a habit of always thinking they could trip me up, but to this day it hadn't worked. I read the signs in the mitt below me, and Applejack seemed to understand them well enough. It called for a fastball, right down the middle. My speciality, this would end quickly. I could tell my team was trying to test either her or me, and I certainly was not about to fall short. I adjusted myself perfectly, daring a confrontational stare at the girl who stood opposite me. She had her pitching hand hidden in the old worn glove she had brought along, which seemed to match her ball.
Her body moved in the sunlight, her toned legs stretching straight in her wind-up, her arms positioned for what seemed to be any other throw. I watched the way her eyes caught me, her movements following close in their captivity. I didn't even get the chance to move by the time I heard the ball hit the mitt below me in a loud clasp. I hadn't even blinked, for Christ's sake! I looked down with wide eyes as my catcher stumbled a bit, her footing nearly falling out from under her. The ball was dead centred in the strike zone, but the catcher still had trouble grasping it. She shook her hand a bit as she grabbed the ball from her palm, and tossed it right back at Applejack.
"Strike!" The team called, and it was obviously unanimous. I couldn't argue with it, that was one hell of a fastball.
"Sorry 'bout that, guess I'm still a little stiff," Applejack chuckled as she rubbed her wrist, apparently thinking it was less than an adequate throw. I gaped to even imagine what she was like when she warmed up, all that farm work building her arm muscles in just the right way. She was by no means built or bulky, but what I could see of her body told me she was more than just athletic, she was strong.
She read the signs again as I glanced once or twice, but noticed that she shook the sign off with a gentle nudge of her head. The catcher had called for another fastball, and after the success of the first one I was surprised to see that she didn't lean on it again. The catcher didn't try for another sign before Applejack got into her wind-up, and I sank my feet into the ground to swing wildly. Her body was graceful, but her movements were precise and in quick succession, and before I knew it the ball was coming my way at a slightly slower speed. Clearly not her fastball, but the longer I debated what it was the faster I realized I didn't have any time left to swing. I had been trying to analyse her and trip her up, I had actually forgotten to move. That was weird for me, as I was a girl of action. It broke farther to the right, and my eyes widened as it slipped just barely out of the strike zone.
"Good eye, Rainbow!" Applejack praised me before she even waited to see if it was a ball or a strike, she already knew. She knew when she was throwing it that it was an intentional ball, she was either taunting me or testing my focus. There was no way I could have been able to decipher that her slider was a ball to begin with, but my hesitation turned out to be something of luck.
"Ball," I murmured in wonder as the others screamed the word aloud. I was surprised by her pitching, she must have thought that with my hot head I would swing at anything. And damn, she had been right, I would have swung if I had not been trying to be an egghead about beating her. Either that, or she was just playing around with me. The ball was in her hands again, and she felt the seams incessantly.
She watched the catcher closely as she made some hand signals, but Applejack shook off the sign again. She was really weird about that, normally pitchers didn't really care what they threw in this league, but Applejack was precise, thoughtful and careful, something rather unlike her. She seemed to like the second or third sign, and fell into her stance again, preparing for her wind-up. I sank low too, knowing that she would not try for another ball. The pitch flew out, and I reacted just as quickly with one hurricane of a swing. Fastball! I knew these— no wait, it was slower than I anticipated! It seemed to stay in the air forever as it broke slightly to the left, and finally landed perfectly within striking zone just after my bat had already passed through it. It was a changeup with an odd break, what I think I heard named as a circle changeup. It was weird to see such well performed pitches in succession, and I was actually beginning to believe she knew what she was doing.
"Strike two!" Rang out around me, and I felt myself growing nervous. I barely ever let it get to the second strike, it was almost humiliating. The catcher tossed the ball back again, and I tried to breathe a calmer exhalation, roughly snatching the brim of the hard helmet they made us batters wear and adjusting it around.
I extended my arm out towards her to warn her I wasn't ready, and instead looked at my feet while I readjusted them from my last swing, stepping a bit in place. I swung my bat out straight towards her next, pointing right at her as my determined grin crept out. She returned it just as readily, folding her arms up closer to her face where both fleshy hands were hidden from me. Everyone knew how competitive the two of us were, and now was the perfect time to test that. I let my body fall back into the comfortable stance, keeping it loose as though I knew this next pitch was all mine. She didn't even wait for a sign from the catcher, like she knew she wouldn't get the right one or she couldn't wait to challenge me. Her wind-up was violent and fast, her throw fierce and fast. I smiled as I recognized the direction of the ball, and felt my movements falling into sync with it. She was trying to trip me up with such an easy toss, but she would not get away with it.
She must have been throwing me a curveball from what I could gauge, well, I could adjust to that. I grinned wider as I fell into my usual swing, assuring victory already. But the longer I looked out, the more I realize that I had swung too low, and that the ball was going to pass right over my bat. Besides the obvious, I noticed the position of Applejack's fingers were just now falling back into place, her index and middle fingers spread wider than your usual pitch. This was no usual curveball, this was something I had never even had the chance to practice hitting. I tried to adjust, but it was far too late for that.
"Strike three!" Was called as I stood motionless, staring at the bat at the full extension of my arm. It had never even got a piece of the ball, and I was speechless as the team began to cheer. I wasn't particularly angry, though I did feel a little foolish as I stood there for another second longer.
I let the bat fall down to my side and swing a bit in my arm as Applejack blinked a few times before the ball was returned to her. She caught it and played with it in her hands again, she wasn't gloating or anything like I would have been, but she smiled a little and accepted the praise. She deserved it, I realized, as I felt my eyes lock on her again and fondle her body with my gaze. The rest of the team cheered and clapped for her, and while I would have been tagging all the bases and blowing proud kisses to no one, except the Applejack in my head, she just sort of kicked the dirt nervously and shrugged a bit. Modesty was more apparent in her than I noticed before, but that wasn't why I continued to gawk at her with an odd expression. I dropped the bat at the plate and approached her, tilting my head as the question seeped out.
"You-you just threw a forkball, didn't you? No, that was faster, like a splitter!" I felt myself stutter, surprised at such a pith as I could call it. She seemed to like the attention from me, and she met my eyes with a crooked smile. I felt my body react to her look, though I made no physical indication of it.
"Yeah, a good pitcher's gotta have a few good aces in the hole, don't cha think?" Applejack winked at me. She actually just winked at me. I wanted to start giggling giddily or something, but I had to address the topic at hand, unfortunately.
"Since when could you pitch like that, A.J.?" I asked her as I felt my own smile creeping up through my words, extending my balled fist towards her until I was close enough that she could bump it with her own. I still felt pretty awful about being beat, but I had to put on a brave face in front of everyone.
"Well since just now I s'pose, getting' better every toss I'd like to think." She replied as she wiped the nervous sweat from under her brilliant golden bangs. I wished that I could bring her close and show her just how proud I was, but clearly that would have been stepping over the line. Instead, I pulled the heavy helmet off my head and flipped my creatively dyed hair until it fell back around me coolly.
"Maybe I should have taken you seriously, then I could have even tried to hit one of those pitches." I toyed with the idea of acting aloof, pretending that I hadn't been serious with the whole competition. It would spare my ego, after all.
"I didn't peg you for a poor sport, Rainbow." Applejack grinned playfully as she inched closer and nudged me twice with her elbow, making me reluctantly step back to avoid being elbowed in the ribs.
"Come on, just a little newbie razzing." I replied subtly, letting her come closer to me again. Damn, I really loved it when she was so close, when I could feel her presence near me and even smell her hair. That even sounded creepy to me, but I couldn't help it.
"So, does that mean I'm in?" She stepped closer to me, her eyes gleaming with hope and anticipation. She forced my jestingly lying face to crack another wide smile.
"Pitch like that and you'll be our ace, babe." I let myself say, hoping the rasp of my voice would hide the infatuation. I loved calling her things like that, it felt so special thinking even for a moment that she was mine, I couldn't help but indulge myself.
"Y'mean that?" Her normally low and sultry voice raised a bit with glee, and suddenly I felt her strong, warm arms come around me. The helmet dropped from my hands unintentionally as I returned it without rational or conscious consent. I almost fainted or kissed at her neck as she presented it to me in the embrace, the urge was overwhelming, "Oh, shucks Dash!"
"Now now, that's only if you can play more than just the pitcher." I told her even though I didn't even move to push her advances away. Hey, I'll take what I can get, right? I peered down as she pulled a bit farther away, her bright eyes gleaming towards me as I studied her body from such a close distance. My hands were already on her shoulders as I had returned the hug, and now my fingers drummed over them eagerly, "With those strong arms, I'd say you'd be a fine hitter. Care to prove me right?"
"You know it," Her lips curled up before me, such an enticing expression as it was. She bent down as she picked up the helmet from by my feet and I was still as I watched her lean down so close. I tore my eyes away and instead bit at my lip and scrunched up my face as I looked at the sky, as if it would help those yearning feelings go away.
It was really getting bad, I had not been lying about that. Applejack never seemed to notice, and though I spent all my free time on sports, she still always found a way to push into my life, which was just another thing I loved about her. She was my best friend, and as much as I thought that cutting contact may have been easier, there was no way I wanted to lose her as a friend. She was the best, and I just could not get enough of her. The fact she was joining the baseball team had me actually giddy, and I felt like I was floating just to think how much time I would get to spend with her. I just hoped I could keep up the secret, or else our whole friendship could crumble. I shook those thoughts away.
"Yo, ball me," I called to the dugout where all the equipment was, raising my hand beside my head. One of my team mates dipped her hand into this sack of baseballs we had and grabbed one, then tossed it out to me. Her throw was not great, but I hardly needed to move to snatch it out of the air. "Glove couldn't hurt, either."
I smirked as she turned back around into the dugout once more. This team needed a lot of work, but I was okay with it, as long as Applejack was there too, I couldn't care less. My team mate looked around for my glove, the white one I always wore, but she was slow at finding it. I tapped my foot a few more times and felt myself growing impatient, and I should have known Applejack could notice.
"Hey Dash," I heard Applejack's voice and turned to look over at her, which caused me to flinch as I grabbed the projectile out of the air before it pegged me in the head, "Use mine."
I looked down at the beaten old baseball mitt, it was just as endearing as I imagined. It was clearly well used, but still in peak condition, and to top it all off, it was hers. It smelled like hers, it looked like hers, and as I slipped my fingers inside, I damn near screamed just wondering if it felt the same as hers. That was a horribly crude thought, but I couldn't help it, and it made me squirm. Applejack was at the plate now, and she flipped the bat clean through the air to gauge the weight.
"You sure?" I found myself asking her, as if it was an invasion of some privacy for me to wear it. I always hated whenever anyone touched mine, so it was kinda cool that she trusted me with one that seemed to have that much sentimental value.
"You ain't gonna bite it or somethin', are you?" Applejack joked as she raise an eyebrow and flashed me that suave southern smirk that was so totally hers. I had to swallow the butterflies in my stomach and focus on gripping the ball by the right seams.
I was no pitcher, but I did know the correct way to throw a fastball, though that was the extent of my knowledge. I could never throw them very accurately, but they were pretty fast needless to say, I mean it was me who threw them. I played with it a bit in my hand as Applejack waited at the plate, settling into her own stance. Her eyes were sharp and piercing, determined and diligent. I loved standing out here, with her eyes right on me like I was the only person in the world. And I was making her wait, here between the mound and the plate the moment consisted of only us, and I was the one who decided when to make it end. It was almost as though I was in control of her, if only for a short time. Finally though, it had to end. I wound up slowly and pitched my fastball, though it was a bit high and had a funny arc. Applejack did not hesitate.
I ducked immediately, and just in the nick of time too, as the damn near flaming ball soared right over my head. I blinked with surprise, peering over my shoulder as it cleared most of the outfield before bouncing once or twice on the grass. I made a incredulous face as I turned my attention back to her, and she seemed to be wincing, like she was afraid for my health. As I stood back up to the stance that would have got me nailed in the abdomen had I held it while she hit, I glared at her. Applejack flashed me this wide, charming, innocent looking nervous grin that was just so adorable I had to forgive her, and try to keep my heart from jumping up into my throat.
"Uh, my bad," Applejack said sheepishly as she shrugged, trying to get a better grip of the bat for another try. "Toss me another."
Toss? Oh, it was on. Clearly that was a shot at my pride, or at least that's how I took it. She wasn't really one for antagonizing, the good sport that she was prevented that, but I needed some good old fashioned competitive motivation. My team threw me another baseball, which I caught without even trying of course. My fingers slipped over the seams again, finding that sweet spot. This time it was going to be fast, straight, and deadly. I didn't give much pause before I went to pitch again, and Applejack seemed just as prepared. This time it was much closer to dead centre of the strike zone, and the clean backspin was a reason to be proud. But my perfect pitch was snagged out of the air just as ruthlessly, and the echoing sound of ball on bat was striking. I saw the white object fly over me, and turned to watch it clear the entire outfield this time, landing somewhere just beyond the fence.
I looked back at Applejack again, seeing her holding the bat out and watching the hit. She did not seem all that pleased with it, but let down the bat and accepted it. After a moment of shock and awe, the rest of the team was on their feet at once, cheering and hollering obnoxiously. I had to admit, it was a hell of a clean hit, but I was not about to show weakness in front of the team. I swung my arms a bit as I whistled loudly, imitating the trajectory of her hit in the pitch of my whistle. I smirked a bit, and she could already tell I was going to say something condescending, she was just waiting for it.
"Lucky hit, our field's not even regulation length." I said slyly, trying not to seem as impressed as I was. She didn't seem offended by it though, she just took off the helmet and ran her hand through her bangs until they fell back into place, it was torture to watch. "So you can pitch, and you can hit. But can you run?" I grinned, that was my speciality.
"Y'know I can." Applejack reminded me dully. In fact I did know, we had raced all the time when we were younger.
I happened to remember one autumn day when I was going over to her place for dinner, she suggested that we cut through the White Tail Woods, and of course it turned into a neck-and-neck race all the way to her family farm. We were laughing and joking the whole way, and I'd be willing to admit that was the day that solidified our friendship for the rest of our lives, and helped me realize just how strongly I felt about her. It was the most beautiful of evenings, the leaves changing colours, the spirit of competition, the haze of youth, and Applejack right beside me.
"Well how about a little race, then?" I asked eagerly as the rest of the team came near us. Everyone could tell that there was something strong between us, and if everyone at school didn't already know Applejack and I were best friends they might think we were more.
"Why am I not surprised?" She chuckled whole heartedly as she nodded, accepting the conditions already. "All right Rainbow, your field, your rules."
"Duh," I stretched my back a bit as I glanced around, checking for any obstacles. I looked back at the patient Applejack, and decided to fill her in on my idea, "Three laps, top speed. And be prepared to eat my dust, farm girl. No one is faster than me."
I raised my hand towards my face and spat on it, drawing disgusted noises from my team. Applejack laughed again as she did the same, causing even louder resistance from the girls around us. We eagerly clapped out hands together in a forceful shake, our eyes flashing intently at each other. This little gesture was something that Applejack and I had been doing since we were young, it displayed equality and acceptance of any deal or challenge. We learned quickly that even if it had not been our own secret handshake, no one else would have ever considered joining in. Applejack had tried it on Rarity once, and she just started screaming and took like ten steps backwards.
As we pulled back I felt her saliva on my hand, and I realized why we hadn't done it in so long. Besides the fact we didn't often have much to compete over that required a verbal agreement, the feeling of her moisture on my fingers drove me crazy. I rubbed my thumb over the tips of my fingers just to feel the slickness again and again. I wished that we could have mingled our saliva in a more intimate way, but right now, I had a race to win.
Baseball practice was never quite this exciting, but I already knew to accept that anything was exciting when Applejack was around. I hadn't spent nearly as much time with her lately as I wanted to, but now was as good of a time as any to make it up to her. We readied ourselves to start right in front of the dugout, using the invisible line drawn from the entrance fence as our finish line. We set up shortly after a quick stretch, and glanced once more at each other before the go was given.
I loved to run, the feeling of wind in my hair and heat in my blood was exhilarating. And everything I loved about running was doubled when I ran beside her, and I got to carefully observe the motions of her body from right up close, seeing as how she was keeping up with me step for step. I pushed myself harder, sprinting at the full extension of each leg. Now, Applejack was just a tiny bit taller than I was, so her legs were longer, but she was more suited to strength and endurance rather than speed. I pulled ahead without much resistance, my slim form perfectly suited to slip through the wind unrestricted. Applejack wasn't far behind though, she never was.
The second lap went by quickly, I was so eager to go on to the third I think my legs were numbed by the harsh wind and fast movements. But still, barely a heartbeat behind me was Applejack, and the gap between us was closing steadily. I was barely counting when I realized I had started the third and final lap, and I got unexpectedly uncertain as Applejack caught up to me in full sprint, and even passed me by just a hair. I looked back at my team and realized what a position I was actually in, this new player had just shown up and out batted me, out threw me, and was about to out run me. I could feel my throne as captain, as the fastest, as the best, all of that steadily slipping away as Applejack glanced over at me and captured my nervous gaze.
I could see the finish line from here like a beacon in the night, calling to me and warning me of the consequences of losing. I pushed myself again and again, ignoring the complains of my legs as they slammed into the dirt time and time again, faster and faster each time. Still, Applejack was right beside me and watching me. With only a few meters, there was no way I was about to give up. This was it, the final stretch. I looked back towards Applejack to hold my usual intimidatory gaze, only to find her an inch or two behind me again, and slowly falling back farther. My foot hit the finish line two steps before hers, and my heart skipped around.
I threw my fists up and cheered loudly, spinning around a few more times as I took full advantage of the victory. My team let their applause loose, and I loved the way it sounded, how it sounded for me. My throne as captain and fastest were assured, I was not to be replaced. I grinned proudly back at Applejack and noticed the way that although she leaned forward and put her hands on her knees, her breathing was in no way laboured, nor was her face contorted in pain or discomfort. My eyes grew wider as I noticed the simple smile on her face, admiration and what looked like friendly love in her eyes. She did not run out of steam at the end, she had pulled back. She had actually pulled back. I glanced at the rest of my team, who were cheering for me and shouting all kinds of praise as usual. This was what I wanted so badly, to be undefeated and victorious, but at what cost? Applejack graciously accepted the loss and nodded a firm bow of her head to me, but I felt bad about it.
I stormed up to her and grabbed her by the hand, boring my eyes into hers for a good long few seconds, before pulling her arm up into the air above us. The team seemed to like the gesture, and I looked over at my competitor to see an honest smile on her face, and something like grace in those gleaming, emerald green eyes. I couldn't help it any longer, I gave in to just the smallest temptation that my heart was whispering of me to do. I pulled her into a tight embrace, which seemed entirely friendly and platonic to the average onlooker. I loved it when her own hands touched the small of my back, slowly slipping over my shirt until she was comfortable. I nuzzled against her further, enjoying the contact as I reached up from behind her and moved her hair away from her ear.
"Next time, I'll beat you fair and square." I whispered gently, resisting the urge to nibble at or suck on her ear.
"Lookin' forward to it." Was her simple response, and my knees felt weak as her breath rolled down my neck. Applejack let me pull barely away and look her in the eyes, and it was though I fell in love with her all over again.
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