Pinkamena Diane Pie: Consultant Detective

by Time Pony Victorious

The Science of Deduction (3)

I read up on Pinkamena Pie once she left the library. There wasn't really a lot on her, honestly, I'm not exactly sure what I was looking for. After her display of intellectual prowess, Pinkie gave me a coy smile and walked out of the library, book in hoof and just disappeared. It was like she was a hallucination or something, gone without a trace. I looked toward Spike for confirmation that she was just a dream but he just gave me a look.

"Man, that was a weird pony," he muttered, getting to work to clean up the library.

I spent the rest of the night rummaging through old newspapers and junk to find a trace of her. A consultant detective, especially one with her skills, would've made the newspapers but there wasn't anything! Merely a two-hundred percent increase in policing efficiency in the past three years all which can't be sourced back to an original cause but Rainbow Dash, somepony from the Royal Guard, was involved as well.

Obviously it was Pinkie's influence. She probably handed the credit to Rainbow Dash as to stay out of the public image. After all, a private detective with publicity was nothing short of an oxymoron.

Frustrated, I threw the stack of newspaper over and it landed with an unimpressed flutter. Owlowisicous, the owl that was assisting Pinkie, flew over, gave me a look and hooted indignantly.

"Sorry, Owlowisicous, but I can't seem to find anything on Pinkie Pie," I admitted with a sheepish look.

The owl merely blinked twice before dropping the newspaper he was collecting and flew over to the other side of the library. It only took two seconds for him to return and when he did he was holding a tiny blue booklet in his beck.

Owlowisicous dropped the book on my desk and stared at me expectantly. Glancing at the cover, I frowned as I hadn't recognized it.

Of the Science of Deduction, it ran. Under the title, in unremarkable print was the name Pinkamena Diane Pie.

"'The Science of Deduction'?" I read aloud. The booklet was thin but held a considerable number of pages, 221, in total. Looking at the text, I saw that it was also hoofwritten…

Intrigued, I cautiously opened the book and began on page 1.

"I am Pinkamena Diane Pie, Equestria's only consulting detective…'"

It hadn't taken me long to finish the booklet, but I had reread it twice. By the time I looked up, the sunlight dropped through the curtains, temporarily blinding me. Shutting the curtains telekinetically, I looked away, blinking the dots from my vision, and groaned.

Had I really been at this all night?

The booklet was an interesting read. It explained and elaborated how much a pony can know from a thorough and systematic approach to all of life. Explaining that anypony can observe, categorize, analysis and conclude accurately from the minutest details.

It was reasonable enough but some of the deductions were far-fetched! Pinkie claimed that she could tell a pony was a masonry by their mane, an office worker by their hooves, and a teacher from their forelegs.

It was hard to believe anypony was capable of something like that… except Pinkie had done that to me just the night before. She was able to figure out nearly everything about me from a single glance. Unless somepony had informed her of my entire life story, Pinkie managed to divine that information from thin air.

Exhaustion and frustration seeped into my legs, I sat, half-miserable, half-tired by the table. I had spent the entire night obsessing over this strange little pony and didn't pay half a mind at my more important duties like the Summer Sun festival or my own personal research. Why had this eccentric mare invaded my mind like this?

Quietly and subconsciously, I laid down at that spot to rest my eyes for a little while.

Spike had rudely awoken me in what felt like hours but in truth was a mere thirty minutes. Dazed and confused, I stood up as the memories of my formal task assigned by the Princess came flooding in. Like a madpony, I dashed around my new home to quickly eat breakfast, freshen up, and grab and tied my saddlebags on me.

Running out of the library, I consulted my hastily made checklist to find out where I was heading first. The local confectionery, Sugarcube Corner, would be my first stop. Apparently, every year the Summer Sun festival was held in Ponyville, the catering would've been done by the town's largest, and only, farm. This year, however, the job had been handed down the Sugarcube Corner.

The reasoning was never explained, but I couldn't really care at that moment as I raced toward the confectionery at top-speed (essentially an embarrassing awkward gallop).

Stepping through the threshold, I took a moment to smell the shop. Scents of cakes and sweets of seemingly a hundred different types rushed at me in that single inhale. Memories of mother baking and Shining Armor cleaning up her culinary misadventures flooded my mind. It reminded me of home despite the fact that baking wasn't a huge culture at my place. This place felt like home, every home and the warm feeling that it produces.

At once my weariness and tiredness disappeared from the sweet scent of the confectionery, I felt like a filly again and wanted nothing more than to curl up under a blanket and nap for an hour or so.

These thoughts were interrupted, however, when the kitchen door opened and a mare stepped through carrying a tray of pink frosted cupcakes. She was a rather unremarkable mare with a simple and modest face. Her eyes were a bright purple and her smile had a kindly, motherly undertone.

"Oh, hello there," she said with a kindly smile. "What can I get for you?"

She put down the tray at the counter and I approached, getting a better look at her cotton candyesque mane and tail, she smelled faintly of vanilla frosting. "Ah, hello, my name is Twilight Sparkle, I'm here—"

"Oh, on behalf of Princess Celestia," she finished with a wide grin. "Yes, I've heard about you, dear. You're the clever unicorn in charge of the Summer Sun celebration."

Blushing slightly as my reputation had somehow preceded me, I nodded. "Well, I wouldn't say in charge, I'm just here to make sure the catering is up to standard. From the looks of it, I'd say it's going great, it smells wonderful."

"Why thank you, dear. I'm Mrs. Cup Cake, welcome to Sugarcube Corner." She pushed the tray toward me slightly. "Go ahead dear, try one."

I hesitated, feeling slightly awkward about trying a treat that was probably meant for some other pony, but my stomach growl mutinously and I nodded in thanks. Levitating a pink cupcake, I took somewhat of an undignified first bite that Spike would've been proud of. Recoiling slightly, the taste was so overwhelmingly vibrant that it felt like my mouth was being lit up with fireworks. A smile appeared upon on my face without my prior consent but I didn't voice any complaints, this cupcake was brilliant!

"Wow, Mrs. Cup Cake, this is amazing! You sure are an amazing baker, I can see that the food will be no problem."

Mrs. Cake smiled and shook her head. "Please dear, call me Cup, or Mrs. Cake. And I didn't bake that batch, dearie, our employee did. She tends to become restless when there is nothing to do and bakes without rhyme or reason, this batch was so good I decided to go ahead with that recipe."

"Oh," I said, looking at the half-eaten cupcake wanting more but stopped by my curiosity of who baked it. "What's your employee's name?"

Before Mrs. Cake could answer, a voice called out from the kitchen, it was a male, older, with somewhat of a delicate and high-pitched tone. "Sweetie! Where's the yellow frosting?"

Mrs. Cake smiled at the kitchen, shaking her head lightly, before turning to me and pointing at the ceiling. "She should be upstairs in her room, go see her, if you'd like, I have to deal with a frosting emergency. Oh, and mind the tripwires."

Tripwires? I thought as the pudgy blue mare walked away. It must've been some weird country humor, so I didn't think too much of it. Looking toward the stairwell, I was a bit conflicted, admittedly. I should've been working on my job, I should've been finding out about this mysterious consulting detective, not chasing talented bakers…

Placing my unfinished cupcake down, I approached the stairs and made my way upstairs.

Unlike the shop, the homely accommodations upstairs were far from pastry-themed. I wasn't sure if I was expecting anything like the Gingerbread Pony's home but it was dull and completely unremarkable. Subdued by the contrast downstairs, my approach toward the revered baker's room was moderately paced and silent, as if I were afraid of stirring this confectionery/home to life.

Reaching the top of the stairs I ended up in a moderately sized hallway which, much like the stairs, were bland and untouched by a creative mind. I walked down the end of the hallway in what felt like an eternity and to my left was a door, slightly ajar, with a light emitting from inside.

Planning to humbly knock, I reached my hoof up but I didn't get a chance to even touch the door because I found the tripwire. It ensnared my right hoof, quickly fastening it down to the ground. Yelping in surprise, I took a half-step backwards but another tripwire caught my hindlegs, pinning them down.

I barely had a chance to protest before she appeared. In a blur of bright bubbly pink, she jumped right on top of me, freeing me of my constraints but I soon found myself as equally ensnared by her sky-blue eyes. She had me pinned by my forelegs but she wasn't applying much pressure, with a quick push I could've had her off me but I couldn't stop staring into those intense blue eyes.

"W-what?" I muttered. "What are you—"

But the pink mare moved in closer to my muzzle, so close I could smell her breath; it smelled like bubbley-strawberry.

Shutting my eyes as she neared, I felt her get close to my neck. Three painfully long seconds later, she leaned back and met my eyes.

"Librarian," she concluded.

"Huh?"

"You're the librarian from yesterday," she explained. "Smell of candlewax and books on your mane, pretty obvious."

She got off me and helped me to my hooves. I felt shaky and my legs felt like jelly when I stood up but I managed to focus on the mare. It was Pinkie Pie!

"Wait, you're that detective!" I cried, following Pinkie inside her room.

"Sound conclusion," Pinkie said with a grin. "What're you doing here, Twilight?"

"How did you know my name?"

Pinkie tapped the hardwood floor twice, it creaked in protest. "Thin walls and floors, you were talking to Cup Cake."

"Oh," I muttered, feeling a bit silly at that simple explanation.

I looked around her tiny room and gasped. It was a humble abode but it was littered with all sorts of things. Newspaper clippings, old books, maps of Equestria and a globe in the corner. There were a great number of instruments piled up by her bed which was pushed off to the side of the room as if sleep wasn't important. On her desk were some strange devices, some complete, some half-done, they must've been inventions she tinkered with. There was a schematic on a pedal-powered flying vehicle, of some sort, on the wall with numerous red markings on it.

This looked like the room of either a madpony or a genius, I couldn't tell.

"So?" Pinkie was front of me, with a quizzical expression. "What're you doing here, Twilight?"

"I…" Shaking my head, I tried to focus. I was still in something of a stupor at the fact that Pinkie was before me. "I was looking for the baker responsible for the recently made batch of cupcakes. I wanted to meet her."

Pinkie raised an eyebrow and I had feared I had said something stupid. But she grinned and extended her hoof. "Well, you're talking to her. I made that batch, the Cakes let me live here but I help them out from time to time."

I took her hoof and gingerly shook it. "Wait, wait, so you're a detective who… bakes?"

Nodding, Pinkie walked over to her wall of newspaper clippings, studying them as if looking for misspellings.

"Well, in my spare time. It helps me think, sometimes. The last batch I came up because I was stuck on a case, it helped, I solved it, and the answer was boring." Pinkie shook her head at the newspaper and tore it down.

"Oh, well, I just wanted to give my compliments to the chef," I explained with a small smile. "It was amazing."

Pinkie gave me a strange look, as if unsure whether to accept my compliment. "Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it."

I nodded, feeling as uncomfortable as she did. Walking over to her table, I glanced over at her unfinished devices with some curiosity, one look liked a blowpipe with an extended tube for more range.

"I, ah, looked you up," I told her awkwardly. "'The Science of Deduction'."

Pinkie nodded. "Well?"

"It was a good a read," I admitted. "But... exactly how much is grounded in truth, I mean telling somepony's life story from tiny details?"

"Well, I was able to figure out all of those facts about you," Pinkie argued calmly. "It's really not that difficult, honestly."

"You obviously looked me up, I mean, I'm the Princess's only student so finding information about me is easy," I reasoned.

Pinkie shook her head, her expression ran a tinge of annoyance and impatience, one previously absent from her lackadaisical look. "I observed, and from what I observed I deduce."

Scoffing, I rolled my eyes and leaned slightly to the right. Pinkie noticed this change in expression and gave me an impressive eye-roll herself, irritated by my incredulous nature.

"Canterlot or Manehattan?"

Blinking, I took a small step back. "What?"

"Which is it? Canterlot or Manehattan?"

"Canterlot… How did—"

"Your accent," Pinkie told me. "That and the fact that you're Princess Celestia's student, she has a lot of schools for gifted unicorns all throughout Equestria but your accent is well-mannered, deliberate and upper-class, similar to those in Canterlot or Manehattan."

"Also how did you guess that I was her student?"

"I told you, I observed," insisted Pinkie. "Your saddlebooks are filled with all sorts of books, some on magical theories, some on political science, and a few on modern architectural. Obviously you're a well-read, multitalented pony, no normal pony would have those books without reason. Conclusion you're a high-standing student."

"But how did you know it was the Princess?"

"I saw a letter sticking out of a book, it was from the Princess."

"You called me socially stunted."

Pinkie shrugged. "All of those books in your saddlebag? It's obvious your social life is… lacking."

"And my brother?"

"That was a bit tricky," she said with a grin. "Your saddle is hoofstitched, obvious from the rather… amateur hoofwork. Somepony as meticulous and detail-orientated as you wouldn't make something like that and leave the mistake in. Obviously, it must've been a family member, somepony who cares about you but disapproves of your hyper-studious nature. At first I thought sister or mother, but the answer was obvious. There's an insignia of the Royal Guard poorly stitched on the side of the bags."

"What about the chariot or my breakfast?"

"Easy. Muffin crumbs on your mouth and hoof explains the small breakfast, your companion, Spike, however looked full and had oats, grain and hay on his body, obviously he had a large breakfast that you didn't partake in. The chariot, your left hoof was a bit wobbly and shaky and you were slightly leaning to the side meaning during the flight you had to lean away from it to adjust because of the tilt. And finally, your charioteer left bits of dandruff on your mane, not yours since there isn't any evidence anywhere else. Have I impressed you yet, Twilight Sparkle?"

I would have easy sat down hard on my flank if my legs hadn't failed me. Standing there, mouth similarly agape to her display of intellectual prowess yesterday, I was unable to produce a rebuttal, an argument to her near flawless logic. Glancing at Pinkie, I noticed she didn't appear enthusiastic about her deductive skills. Her ears were pinned back, her face dissonant as if bracing herself for a harsh rebuttal from me.

Instead, however, I nodded dumbly, in both agreement to her explanations and to her initial question. She was right, absolutely, completely correct.

"That was fantastic!" I told her, regaining my composure.

Pinkie blinked, her brow furrowed slightly and a small frown set upon her face. "Really? Oh… well, thank you."

The pink pony turned swiftly around to approach a map of Equestria, I was at her heels. "Really, absolutely fantastic! How are you able to observe me so closely? Oh, your mind must be honed, how long have you been at this talent?"

Glancing down at her flank, I noticed her cutie mark. A set of brightly colored balloons that fit her hyperactive personality but appeared opposite to her hyper-logical mind. Strange that she hadn't procured an appropriate cutie mark for her deductive abilities.

"A few years," Pinkie answered and I looked up, blushing my minor faux pas of staring at her flank inappropriately but miraculously she hadn't noticed. "I only started up my detective business a few years back, but all my life I've been practicing these techniques."

"So, the police merely come to you for consultation? Isn't that a bit unorthodox?"

Chuckling, Pinkie set a hoof on my shoulder. "Well, considering the number of cases I solved for them, 'unorthodox' is the least of their worries."

I nodded slowly, unable to argue against her after witnessing her mental faculties.

"But this case, what is it about?" I asked. "I mean, you ransacked the library over it."

Pinkie waved a dismissive hoof. "It's nothing, solved it, turns out it was the butler, nopony ever suspects the helping hoof."

"Oh. But—"

"I have a bit more pressing matters to attend to, Twilight," she said with a small smile. "And don't you have a festival to plan?"

My eyes widened, I had completely forgotten my responsibilities! Mumbling apologies to the pink detective, I ran out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the confectionery ignoring Mrs Cake's dessert recommendations.

Sparing a glance over my shoulder, I noted the address of the fabled detective's place of work.

"221B Baker Street," I read aloud. Unsure why, I mentally noted the place for future reference.

Comments

[Avenging-Hobbits]

Okay I'm going to make a wild guess and say that the romance tag is for Twilight x Pinkie Pie. Am I right?

[Time Pony Victorious]

3483334

You must have some detective skills of your own

But there are fleeting moments of romance between, well, a bunch of side characters. But yes, since the story is in Twi's POV it will generally be focused on them.

[Avenging-Hobbits]

3483366 Well I just know how the site works is all

Yeah that isn't my ship, which kinda makes me feel disappointed...mostly because I yearn for a Sherlock crossover story that DOESN'T become a ship fic (trust me it's not you, it's me...I swear)

[Time Pony Victorious]

3483375

I'm not sure how well I am able to convince you, but I hope to keep this purely a mystery fic, as a Sherlock buff I try to focus on the detective work (which is harder than you think when you're keeping it PG). The ship is merely a side-thing.

[Avenging-Hobbits]

3483395 Yeah I guess it's just over expose to shipping that's made me react very negatively to shipping in stories that are so obviously not shipping stories...

[Time Pony Victorious]

3483938

Yeah I understand, I hope the shipping here won't repel you, I try to stick to the mystery.

3484049

:o

Creeepy

[Crimson Dawn]

On the other side I enjoy a good Twinkie so I guess you sadly can't win.

[Time Pony Victorious]

3485489

It's all about balance and moderation, in my opinion. Shipping is good and all but if it overwhelms the main element (in this case mystery) then it gets out of hand.

[StrigidaeFan]

3483938
I agree there.
Some stories just try to cram the Ships down your throat, and others just toss it in out of nowhere. It's very distracting.

(Well, this is unexpected.)