Rarity smelled like apples.

The thought wedged itself in Applejack’s head and, despite her best efforts, she was having trouble dislodging it. Not that she needed to. It was just her noticing things, just like anypony would. She couldn’t blame her nose for smelling things anymore than she could blame the eyes for seeing things. 

Like Rarity’s mane being a right nice color. Or how she had really pretty eyes. Or how she usually cut a fine figure in her dresses. 

The kinda things anypony’d notice. 

“Why, I am impressed! I really think this will work!”

Applejack blinked as she realized that, while she might’ve been paying attention to Rarity, apparently she hadn’t been listening to her. “Uh, sorry. What’ll work?”

“Your plan for the Ponyville Cider Tasting, darling!” Rarity rustled the papers on the table between them, placing a crudely drawn sketch on top. “Of all of the ideas, I quite think this is the best – if in need of a little artistic intervention to help realize it. Still, the idea of hosting it right in the orchards of Sweet Apple Acres is simply marvelous!” 

“Ah, right. Yeah. Well, I’m glad you like it!” Pushing all those distractions aside, she tried to focus on the project in front of them. “I know most of them’ll be expecting a fancy restaurant or something, but I figure there’d at least be a few ponies that might like seeing where their cider comes from. Plus, I bet they don’t get to see too many orchards in the big city.”

“Indeed! It really is a stroke of genius!” Rarity nodded, her eyes shining with that same light they always did when something took her fancy and her ideas started bubbling over. “Of course, I don’t think we’ll be able to follow your plans exactly. Like you said, they will have expectations that must be met. Just pulling the tables out of your barn simply will not do. We must balance an authentic, rustic experience with something they would be a little more comfortable with. Prance country chic, perhaps? I do believe it’s coming back into style...”

Applejack nodded along, focusing on the words coming out of Rarity’s mouth this time around. Which was plenty easy, because anypony passionate as she was was a real treat to listen to. Sure, sometimes Rarity might be so stuck up she’d drown in a rainstorm, but better that than a pony who didn’t care a lick about what she was doing. 

“...finding the right craftspony to complete such an ambitious project in so short a time might be difficult…”

Besides, spend enough time around her and you started caring at least a little about all the high falutin stuff. You couldn’t really know Rarity as long as she’d had without learning to appreciate  [i]haute couture[/i] at least a little bit.

“...and perhaps we could even offer them a tour of the orchard in the form of a hayride! Why, that would be tremendously quaint…”

That’s exactly the sort of thing friends did. They got interested in each other’s interests.

 Rarity stared at her. “Are you feeling quite alright, Applejack?”

“Huh?”

Rarity leaned over the table. “You look like you’re miles away right now. Are you even listening?”

“Yeah. You were asking about hayrides, which I’m sure we could do, so long as you don’t want me or Big Mac dressing all fancy.” She hesitated, guilt getting the better of her. “But you’re right about me being distracted. I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now, so we probably ought to take a break for now.”

Even if these weren’t all perfectly normal things, it wasn’t like it mattered. Mixing friendships and special someponies was a recipe for disaster. If a pony started thinking and talking about things like that, it’d be mighty hard to go back.

“Could I help you with any of it?”

Besides, even if that were really what she was thinking about, somepony like her and Rarity’d never work. They might’ve started to appreciate each other’s lives and weird ways a whole lot more, they were still about as far apart as two ponies could be. Just too many problems there.

Which was why it was good that the none of it meant anything. That it was all just normal stuff

Applejack shook her head. “Nah, don’t you worry yourself about it. Just a thing I gotta deal with, that’s all.”

And that was the honest truth.