A/N: This is a little vignette from Big Mac's point of view of an event that has not happened yet (or may never happen) in the 'Memoirs of a reality jumper' fanfic. I just liked this idea and wanted to write it before it flew out of my head. This is a fanfic for a fanfic that has not been written yet. :)
The sun's beating down on my shoulders, but I'm used to it. I've been working Sweet Apple Acres all my life, and I wouldn't want it any other way. A lot of ponies think I'm a little slow, because I don't flap my gums all day, but I help Applejack run this place as much by pulling a plough as balancing the books. Heck, I've got more book learning than she does, but education was never something that was appreciated in the Apple household, especially if you was big and had a strong back. They named me Big Macintosh for a reason.
Applebucking season is over and ploughing begins. It's hard work, but it also gives me time to think. My body knows what to do and it lets me think of her. She and Applejack were always competing, always had a friendly rivalry over something, but they were best friends. And I longed after her from the sidelines. She was always so graceful, so beautiful, so perfect. I never had the guts to court her. I never felt I was good enough.
And then that, thing, came along. Oh, Applejack says he's a good soul, kind, generous, always looking out for others. I guess I don't have any reason to quarrel with him. But when she was with Applejack, all she talked about was him. Said that even though he was physically weak he did the right thing. He was brave and smart. She said he had spirit.
Spirit. What good is spirit if you can't applebuck, if you've got no strength. I don't think I would be so... so... well, I don't know what I feel. Angry I guess. Papa always said anger will eat a stallion on the inside. Would I have felt the same if it had been some pony stallion? Somepony normal? If I'm honest with myself, I have to say I would not have been so disgusted by her choice.
I look up from my ploughing, and I see her, high in the sky. A streak of cyan and a trail of rainbow. She's practising those tricks of hers, getting better. It always makes me smile to see her grace, her beauty, her strength. We could have made fine foals.
So, I'm going to have to have a talk with that... whatever he is. Make sure he's worthy of her, my sky blue angel.