You kick the trashcan next to the gem shop with a furious yell, sending the now dented container across the street and throwing garbage everywhere.

Umbra manages to look up at you past the red in her face. “That’s littering, Anon,” she says with a small frown.

You’d give her a scowl, but the burning in your ears tells you that your face is still flushed with embarrassment. Why did that fucking unicorn have to do that? To hell with her.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. When did you become a cop?” You ask her with a raised brow.

Umbra mimics your expression as she starts walking. “Someone needs to keep you in line. You know a real cop would have nailed you for that,” she says, the red tint on her face fading. “Speaking of cops, we should probably get these notes,” she shakes her wing with the notebook clutched under it, “to the police and let them take it from here. We haven't got the same clearance they do for criminal investigations.”

The trip to the front of the Artisan’s District is a slow one, but it’s far less nerve wracking than the trip inside.

“Well, that sure was fun…” Umbra snarks to no one as you and her exit the main office of the Canterlot PD. Her hoofsteps are heavy and annoyed on the cracked concrete ground, making a distinct clink! sound from her shoes.

“At least it’s out of our hands,” you offer with a shrug, idly playing with the tiny red gem now hanging around your neck on a simple string. “We did our part. Now it’s up to the cops to do the rest. Catching some burglar seems a little above the guard, doesn't it? Even if it’s expensive stuff being stolen.”

Umbra looks backwards at the police station as you and her walk. The ugly, concrete building stands in sharp contrast to the usual grand architecture of the of the Equestrian capital, making one wonder why it was made that way.

She returns her attention forward with an irritated click of her tongue. “Call me crazy,” the little vampire starts, “but I get the feeling that the investigation is not going anywhere anytime soon.” She’s silent for a few more steps before chiming in again. “Something just seems off with that whole mess, you know what I mean? The PD might be good at keeping the busy work off the guard, but I get the feeling that this is going to go beyond they can do.”

“Oh well,” you reply, not really caring, and even a bit happy to be out of that obvious fiasco in the works. “It’s their problem now. Poor suckers.”

“Issues the PD can't handle tend to get a run through the guard if they’re bad enough,” Umbra dryly quips with a twitch of her wings. “It’s just takes time, which is why I questioned why I had to sit through two hours worth of questioning with some sleepy detective after running back all the way back to talk to Glimmer, again!” She stops to take a much needed breath. “This is just going to snowball and hit the guard anyway.”

“I thought you said the guard doesn't have the same clearance the police do for criminal investigations?” You ask then shrug uncaringly. “Good thing you're not technically on active duty, and thus, WILL be missed by that gay shit.” you grin back to her. “I can do with less crazy, thank you.”

You debate trying to trip your guard, but reluctantly toss the idea out when you realize that you’ll probably just bruise your foot on her foreleg.

“Yeah, well… Fuck you,” you reply, suddenly finding the cobblestone street more interesting than Umbra.

“Oh, my Anon~!” She says, mockingly scandalized. “Right out here on the street? How forward,” she titters behind a hoof like a schoolgirl. “But if you insist…”

Your palm is violently introduced to your face as you feel heat beginning to surface on your cheeks. Why did you not see that response coming? “I really do hate you sometimes,” you grumble, dodging around a walking earth pony wearing a backpack. “Why do you feel the need to make me suffer?”

“If you consider the chance for a romp with me to be “suffering” then I don’t think I can really do worse, seeing as how you’re obviously insane,” she sniffs. “Really, suggesting such a thing to a mare then chickening out and not following through?”

Umbra blinks, realization flashing across her face. “Ohhhhhhh so that’s why you want me. Did Bright check your eyes when you saw her last?”

Again, your face burns so red that you're sure it’s luminescent. You were sure that one would trip her up at least a little.

Umbra notices your internal plight and stifles a giggle. “I’ve been at the banter game for a lot longer than you have, Anon. You’ll win one eventually.” She bumps your thigh with her armored flank, a clink sound following. “But there’s no shame in losing to an expert like me.”

“Expert at what? Being a pain in my ass?” you mumble, knowing she heard when you see her tuft-tipped ear flick. “Where are you leading me, anyway?” You ask at a normal volume, looking around the somewhat unfamiliar street you’ve found yourself on. It’s filled with older, rougher buildings with a number of gruff ponies around, a noteworthy number being both day and night guards. From somewhere, a band can be heard playing. At the very end of the street is a fenced drop-off right off the side of Canterlot, meaning you're at the edge of the city. Even the usual night gloom seems to hang heavier here, with only the streetlights keeping the inky dark at bay.

“I was following you…” Your guard says, now taking notice of her surroundings as well. “And you lead us right into the shady bar district. Nice. I could use a drink after repeating myself to the idiot at the police station five hundred times,” she says with a fanged grin

Now, she takes the lead, trotting ahead and looking back at you. “Come on! If we’re lucky, we’ll run into some friends.”

Taking a look around at the rough crowd that favors this place, and noticing glares sent your way, you gulp and follow Umbra closely.

Trailing right behind the guard, you watch her swivel her ears around, taking in countless sounds with a thoughtful expression on her face. Her gait suddenly slows to a sedated walk, nearly making you run at the abrupt change of pace. Finally, she smiles as her ears both turn, facing a small pub set between what looks like a condemned building fit for squatters and a thinly veiled brothel.

Walking up to the solid iron door of the pub, which held an oh-so-charming sign saying “The Ripoff” which is half covered in rust, Umbra knocks on it.

After a moment, something shuffles around inside and a slot on the door opens, letting a light blue slitted eye peer out. The eye falls on Umbra first, then travels to you and widens.

“Who’s the tall one?” a stallion asks behind the door with a deep, almost guttural voice.

“My charge,” Umbra replies simply, her stance relaxed and gold eyes closed. “Surely you know by now?”

Just where the hell is this little bat leading you? You can't help but wonder with a bit of worry. She wouldn't purposely lead you into danger, but this whole place as a strange vibe.

“Heh, who doesn't?” The deep-voiced stallion returns her question with one of his own. “You sure you wanna bring him in here? Poor two-leg will get eaten alive. Literally.”

“Hold the fuck up!” You cry, waving your arms in an X “Time out! What was that about being eaten alive?!” You exclaim, making both your guard and the hidden stallion look at you.

Umbra sighs and rolls her eyes as she turns back to the eye watching from behind the door. “Did you have to say that?” She asks, unamused. “Now you’ve gone and freaked my human out. Do you really think anypony will mess with him with me at his side? Because I don't think they’ll even entertain the thought. Besides, I haven't been here since I started my latest assignment,” the Major finishes, wrapping a foreleg around your own leg.

The guard’s words and light embrace soothe your nerves some, but if this place is what you think it is, then your blood pressure is going to shoot through the roof.

The stallion’s eye narrows thoughtfully. “I can think of a few, but none of them hang around here much anymore. If you’re wanting in, then fine. You were warned, though.”

With a metallic clank, the slot shuts, and a second later the sound of a huge lock’s tumbler being turned echoes hollowly from inside. Then another. Then a third. Finally, the door creaks inward on groaning hinges, shaking some of the rust on the front off.

Umbra grins up at you and tugs your jeans with her fanged mouth, beckoning you to follow. Not that you have much of a choice.

A sigh escapes your lips as you follow the vampony into the pitch black of the building, the door shutting promptly after and sending everything into shadow. You have to rely on the faint glint Umbra’s luminescent eyes cast to keep up in the dark interior. As you walk, you glance back to see who was guarding the door, only to see a single blue eye and a pearly white fanged smirk floating in the dark.

Goosebumps break out along your body, so you quickly turn away and return to following the faint gold glow ahead of you.

“An old hangout,” she answers, her glowing orbs glancing over her shoulder. “It moves around occasionally, and I haven't been here since we met. This is a new spot.”

“What sort of hang out?” you ask warily, still unable to see. “I’m not about to get jumped, am I? I got enough of that back in high school, thanks.”

“I’ve heard that one before…” You mutter as you strain your ears for something other than oppressive silence. To your surprise, you actually start to hear… Talking, shuffling, and the clinking of glass?

The warning comes a second too late, and you do the one thing she tried to warn you about and slip on the unexpected first step.

By pure reflex, you wrap your arms around the no-doubt shocked Umbra as you fall, locking your embarrassing and painful fates together.

Both you and the bat pony tumble down the unforgiving wooden stairs that seem to go on forever in a heap of flailing limbs and pained noises. Despite the cuddly vampire being ten times more durable than you, you still try to shield her in a hug as you both go down.

“Ow! I said watch your step!” Umbra cries. “Why did you drag me with you!?”

“It was reflex! I didn’t even thin-!” You wince when you smack against the wall especially hard. “Think! It just happened!” You manage to get out before you both tumble one last time and finally come to a stop. When the world stops spinning, you find your face buried in something cool with something fleshy poking your mouth.

It’s silent for a moment as you try to catch your breath and let your rattled brain make sense of what just happened. Fucking hell that sucked something fierce.

Around you is quiet whisperings, no doubt about your pratfall. Then one voice shatters the quiet in the worst way possible.

An echoing roar of cheers, whistles, and laughter follows, forcing you to pull your face up and look around. What greets your still half-dazed eyes is a bar full of vamponies and the occasional normal pony, all of them pointing and hooting and hollering.

You turn to your guard with a squint and a silent question primed, absentmindedly noting that she landed on her back. Your question is rebuffed, though, since the vampony is staring down, her face nuclear red and contrasting sharply with the short, cobalt mane covering her eyes. What does she look so embarrassed about? The fall? The noise over it? That shouldn't faze...her…

Looking down, you see just where you were resting a moment ago. Right between Umbra’s legs, and smack dab on the pair of soft mounds usually hidden between them.

You shoot to your feet and pull Umbra up in an instant, setting her on her hooves and swiftly dragging her to an empty table near the back, heedless of the stallions you pass patting you on the back and the comments they pepper you with.

“Git’er done!” shouts the same bombastic stallion from the first time with a hoofpump.

Each one who speaks up just makes the red on your face travel up your ears and down your neck since the human face can only hold so much blood. They all shut up when a room-rattling growl filled with fury rumbles out of Umbra’s throat. The three vocal ones even go bone white when she lifts her head and spears them with a glowing-eyed, fang-bearing scowl. You’re surprised she hasn’t broken your grip and made a run for the closest one.

“Hey, come on,” you tell her lowly. The guardsmare squeaks when you loop an arm around her middle and carry her with you the rest of the way. “No murder. You said this is a bar, right? Let’s get trashed and forget it ever happened.”

In the very back of the establishment and against a wall is a round, unoccupied table surrounded by chairs, one of which your drop your armful of pony into. You take your own seat right across from her, but keep your eyes averted from hers. Instead, you take the time to let your still flushed face drain and inspect the bar.

‘Cool’ would be the first word to describe it. Both cool as in being interesting, and in the theme. The low light, pale blue stone walls and the subtle chill of the underground location made for a soothing setting. The bar itself, manned by an older looking vampony mare, is in the middle of the room as a hollow island. A shelf that wraps around itself stands in the center of the island, filled with glass bottles and flanked with barrels large enough for someone to drown in. In the far corner, a record stereo fills the air with the voice of a singer you can't place but sounds like a pony Sinatra.

Only a few minutes later the leers and chatter about the fall have stopped, as all the other patrons return to their previous conversations. It leaves the room back in the dull roar you’d expect in a bar.

You take a deep breath and glance over to Umbra, who hesitantly lets her eyes meet yours.

“I’m sorry!” Both you and Umbra say at once, then blink in confusion. “You’re sorry? But that wasn’t your fault!” You both exclaim.

Silence falls over the table. For several minutes, there’s nothing but the sounds of the other conversations around the room and the clinking of glasses.

One of the waitresses milling about, a lithe vampony mare with a jeweled choker and auburn mane, eventually stops by the table with a small notebook held in a leathery wing. “Anything I can get you two?” She asks politely.

The waitress nods knowingly, jotting down the simple order. “Don’t you worry at all, you two. I know exactly what you need,” she says with a smile, closing the notebook and weaving through ponies for the bar.

With her gone, you turn back to Umbra. “So, are we just going to dance around what happened all night? It was just an accident, right?”

The major takes a deep breath and lets it out, twiddling her front hooves in a distinctly not-Umbra display of nerves. “It was,” she concludes. “An accident I mean. I should have caught you, though,” she grumbles with a frown.

“Maybe I shouldn't have tripped,” you offer with a wave at yourself. “But oh well, no taking it back now.”

“I guess not,” your guard agrees, her voice growing lighter with the smile slowly finding it’s way on her face. A sudden thought seems to catch her, making the little bat scrunch her muzzle as a bit of pink returns to her cheeks. “Anon?”

“When we fell and stopped, did you..?” Her cheeks are fully red now. “What I mean is, well… I sorta...Did you..?”

You lean forward, anticipation growing in you as she tried to find the words she wants.

“Well well, lookie here!” A new and cheerful voice interrupts. “If it ain’t miss major herself and her bestie-n-breakfast. Good on ya for earlier, string bean. I’m more of a flank kind of guy myself, though.”

“Tisk tisk, brother. Having the tastes of a common plebeian is simply deplorable,” the exact same voice says. “At least pretend to have respectable preferences.”

Your head turns so fast towards the new arrivals that your neck pops. Standing just to the side of the table, each one sporting an identical grin, is a pair of tall vampony stallions who are practically mirrors of each other. Both sport the iconic gray coat of vamponies, a pair of dark green eyes each, same sized bat wings, and plain brown wind-blown manes. Neither is wearing any armor or clothes, so the only why you could tell them apart was the nick missing from the ear of the one on the right.

“Shank? Sham?” Umbra questions with a furrowed brow. “What are you two doing here? I thought you were out in the field?” Her expression turns sour. “We were having a private conversation as well.”

“Well, we WERE out and about on our dear moon lady’s orders,” Shank, on the right says with a casual shrug of his wings. “But…”

“Some things happened, and one thing leads to another annnnnnd the individual we were supposed to tail was caught in a house fire,” Sham finishes. “Poor bloke, went too soon, yada yada…” he says insincerely. “A shame… I guess. Got us put on admin leave for a bit. Why didn’t you save him, Shank?”

You turn away from them a bit, hoping they didn’t notice your discomfort at the casual admittance of letting someone perish in a fire.

“And a private convo, major?” Shank asks with a lopsided grin and a shake of his head. “In The Ripoff? A deep hang? Come now, that’s tripe and you know it,” he says, pulling out a chair for himself as his brother did the same next to him. “Either way, we’ve never meet feedbag here, mind doing the honors, Major U?”

Umbra narrows her eyes at them. “Anon, this is Shank,” she points to the one closer to you with the nicked ear, who grins, “and Sham,” the one closer to her grins as well. “Professional headaches for high command,” she says in a clipped tone.

“Really now, who doesn't?” Sham asks as Shank flags down a waitress. “It’s not everyday space and time loses it’s shite and leaves behind an alien. The whole city’s heard, and word even got all the way down to the countryside.”

He nudges your shoulder with a hoof. “You’re becoming a legend without any effort, friendo. Soon you’ll have cults and fanatic mares making long sojourns to have your foals, you know that?”

“Yeah, I doubt that,” you respond dryly. “I don't stick my dick in crazy. Personal rule of mine.”

“No D for loonies, eh?” Shank asks with a raised eyebrow and upturned lips. “Little late for that one,” he snickers, nodding towards Umbra.

“It’s not like that. We’re not-!” You and your guard say in sync, stopping halfway and meeting eyes when you realize it.

Both of the vampony twins hold their forelegs in front of their muzzles, vainly trying to stifle their mirth. While they’re doing that, the same lithe waitress happens by with a bottle of clear liquor in a pink label, a pair of shot glasses, and two frothing tankards balanced across her open wings.

“Sorry about how long it took to get back,” she apologizes to you and Umbra. “I had to run to the back to get this,” the waitress says, sliding the clear bottle between yourself and the guard. The tankards go to the delighted brothers before the mare departs.

“Anyway…” Shank starts again, his lopsided smirk bearing a single fang. “You sure you ain’t doing the monster mash with the fair major, string bean? Because THAT,” he points to the liquor bottle with a wingtip, “tells a whole ‘nother story it does.”

“What?” You frown and nab the bottle by it’s neck, pulling it closer to inspect it. Honestly, it seems like a normal bit of liquid courage. Or so you think until you see the label.

‘The Marriage Fixer - 110 proof’
‘Drink till you forget why you were fighting’
‘Saving relationships and promoting liver cleansings since 790 A.N.’

“Is this for fucking real?” You ask with your face screwed up in incredulous awe. “The universe is laughing at me now. I know it.”

If the pair of stallions were laughing before, they’re in table pounding stitches now as they lose all composure. Sham even coughs so hard after inhaling his drink that he looks like he might vomit, but goes right back to laughing afterward.

You set the bottle down and cover your face with a hand, trying to will a headache coming on to go away.

Brows furrowed, you wonder why your voice came out so… feminine. When Umbra leaps over the table to the chair on your other side with a flat look on her usually happy face, you realize that it’s her that was talking. “Are you picking up curses from me?” You ask, turning to her with a perturbed look. “Don’t. It makes me feel like I’m teaching swears to children for funzies.”

The mare snorts, amusement dancing her gold irises. It dies a little when the other two ponies at the table go “Ohhhhhhhhhhh!” like they were trying to incite a schoolyard brawl.

“You gunna let him call you a kiddo, major?” Sham asks behind a grinning swing of his tankard.

“Whack’em, major!” Says Shank. “Show him what you did to the last guy to call you a tot. Poor bastard limped for weeks.”

You just shake your head and grab the bottle of pony liquor. All this talking when there’s booze on the crown’s bit to be had.

“How about I whack you, instead?” Umbra returns with a raised eyebrow. “I’d say good effort on trying to rile me up, but I try to tell the truth where I can,” she finishes, resting the elbow of her foreleg on the table.

Shank “Hmm”s into his hoof as if thinking. “Whack ME major? I’m flattered, but I’m a married stallion, and my sweet would literally have me by the jewels should she find out. Now my brother…” Said brother glances as back when he’s nudged with a wing. “Now he’s free. Do what you will”

Sham shoots his brother a look of abject betrayal. “Stuff it, wanker. I’m not trying to die here. Besides, the major strikes me as a gal who likes ‘em… Untraditional you know? Like tall and weird,” the stallions says, sending a knowing look your way.

You don't even acknowledge him as you pour out a shot for you and your guard each. Curious, you lift yours and take a whiff, only to suppress a wince when your nose hairs promptly burn away.

Sham narrows his green eyes to a glowing slit at being ignored but approaching hoof steps stop before he can voice his displeasure.

“Hmhm! What interesting company this little hole-in-the-wall attracts.” a mare arily comments.

Twisting around to face the voice behind you, you feel your eyes widen a bit. Standing there with a half-full wineglass held aloft in a soft aura of pink is none other than Bright Night, sans her armor.

“Interesting company indeed…” She repeats, trailing off as her eyes fall upon the only stallions at the table. “Might I join you? My company had to leave early and let me to my lonesome.” The vampony unicorn asks, giving her strangely viscous wine a dainty twirl in it’s glass.

“The more the merrier, love,” Sham begins with a deceptively gentle smile. “Dear brother O mine, you mind vacating your spot so the lovely miss can sit?” He says, turning to his unamused looking twin.

“No need, but my thanks to you all the same,” Bright replies with a cool look as she walks to the open spot on Umbra’s other side and seats herself. “A most unusual gathering, Major. Of course, I expected Anon but…”

You let your lips twitch upward and give her a discreet nod, not voicing your forgiveness for the event several days ago. As you do, you tip the shot you poured for yourself down.

Annnnd you almost cough it back up, grimacing the entire way it went down. God almighty that tasted like pain and went down like lit gasoline. Hell, actual gasoline would have been much better than that.

Bright lets herself smile gently for only a moment at you, her pink eyes filled with laughter before she drops it and returns her attention to Umbra.

“Well, Anon and myself were just wandering around after our visit to the PD,” the major starts, hoofing the little shot glass you slide to her. “Really, it’s just chance that we ended up here. I never got to learn where the place moved since babysitting became my primary assignment,” she says with a cheeky grin sent your way.

You snort. “Babysitting? You mean being babysat, right? I’ve pulled your ass out of the fire more times than I care to count,” you tell her, watching as she drains her shot glass with nary a wince.

“Woo… This IS some good stuff!” Umbra smiles with her muzzle twitching. Turning back to you, she rolls her large eyes. “Riiiiight. Sure you have. You know all about grabbing my ass, don’t you? Or at least fantasizing.” She shoots back flirtatiously, her embarrassment from earlier faded.

The twins both openly snicker and Bright hides a giggle behind her raised glass.

“You’d like that, wouldn't you?” You ask, taking both her glass and yours to be refilled. “What would your parents say if they knew you got your jollies off from being molested by an alien?”

“Beats me,” she replies with a shrug. “Lots of cursing and yelling though. I haven’t seen them in like, what? Forty years? I swear, they’re still mad at me over the griffon I brought home way back when.”

Sham nudges Shank. “See? I told you she was into weirdos,” he says, hoofing off his empty tankard to a passing waitress.

“Odd that she’s not vying for you then,” his brother comments dryly, earning him a narrow eyed look.

“I take it they’re not fond of non-ponies, major?” Bright asks after a delicate sip of her wine. “Or maybe not even of non-vamponies? You’re from an older clan if I recall.”

Umbra waves a hoof dismissively. “Eh, it’s not that. Mom and dad were never really ones for tradition. It’s just that…” she trails off

“Bugger was a crook, wasn’t he?” Shank cuts in, making your guard look at him in surprise.

“Because,” Shank starts, facing Umbra with a ‘you-should-know-this’ condescending smirk. “You can’t be a griffin and NOT be a crook. Bloody rats with wings, they are. Take your eyes off them bird claws for a second and they’ll be in your pocket or around your throat the next.”

“Just toss a firestorm spell in the bird capital and let the fire do the rest,” Sham says snidely. “We’d get fewer assignments and pay, sure, but you’d do the world a favor.”

You almost choke your second shot down after hearing that. What a jump that was, calling griffons thieves then going right for genocide.

Sham’s brother looks at him oddly. “You’re awful on about fire recently, aren’t you?” the nick-eared pony says carefully, earning him a frown.

“Rather distasteful don't you think?” Bright asks before Sham can snap at his brother, her pursed lips and downturned brows bordering on a scowl. “To wish such mayhem upon others simply because you do not like them. What would Her Majesty say?”

Umbra tosses back her second shot, then levels the brothers with her own glower, eyes bright and baleful in the low light.

A sudden tension grips the area, so much that the other tables around yours slowly go quiet and try to peer towards the silent drama without drawing attention to themselves.

You look between the two parties with a single bead of sweat rolling down your face despite the chill, leaving a ticklish trail. Even with the alcohol steadily peeling away at your common sense, you dare not wipe the sweat away for fear of the moment setting someone off. You knew the new vamponies were trouble just waiting to happen.

The brothers turn their heads to each other just the slightest amount, enough for their smoldering green eyes to meet for just a split second, but in that split second, you know they formed a plan. Who are these two, you wonder, to be bold enough to challenge not only Bright Night, but Umbra as well?

Both Umbra and Bright subtly coil in their seats. The legs they sit on, powerful enough to shatter stone, ready to turn them into blurs of motion and violence at a moment’s notice.

You need to do something and do it now. Otherwise this is going to get ugly with a capital U. Just as you open your mouth, another voice beats you to it.

Standing behind Shank and Sham, with the concerned looking lithe waitress just behind her, is the old vampony mare who was behind the bar.

She stands at the normal height for a pony and even seems frail compared to the vamponies around her, but the old mare wears an expression so stern that a single pointed look from her vermillion eyes could halt the reaper himself in his tracks. Considering her wrinkled face, faded to white mane, and missing left wing, she might just actually do that.

“If you think I’m just going to let you ankle biters start something in my bar, then you can forget it,” she says, her snarl revealing her teeth along with her broken right fang. “Either take it outside or don’t do it at all!”

“Don’t you dare pull that with me!” The old mare roars, making both of the stallions wince. “You two make more trouble than you're worth in the service of the princess, and she keeps you, but I’m not that forgiving. Do you want to come here anymore? Partake of what I work my hooves to the bone to get for you? Then you’ll do what I say, and I say quit starting trouble!”

“Of course ma’am. No need to worry, we were just leaving anyway…” Sham offers in a quiet voice.

After a theatrical look at the clock, which read 2:04 AM, his brother speaks next. “Indeed, prior engagements and whatnot. We were just here to see some... friends is all.”

Both stand briskly, with Shank leaving a single 20 bit coin on the table. As one, both march past the stern barmare and towards the stairs past all the subdued patrons at the other tables.

“Oi, Feedbag!” Sham calls over his shoulder. “Drop that one, friendo. The pretty lil thing serving the table slipped you something special when she passed last time.”

Looking down at the shot glass almost touching your lips, you see a thin film of white around the edges of the alcohol. It’s so faint, that you would have never noticed had it not been pointed out. Slowly, you set the glass down and withdraw your hand.

Shank smirks, venom coating his next words. “Pick up a better befuddling charm next time, love! Or somepony might get jumpy seeing your half-arsed one and, well...” He lifts a wing, and held on it is a choker filled with cracked jewels, “take a swing a mite closer...”

The waitress’ eyes widen so far that you swear they were going to pop out of her skull. Her hoof then shoots up to her, sure enough, bare neck as she goes pale under her fur. Her eyes dart around the room, but the only exit is blocked by the pair of stallions who caught her. From the sadistic smiles they wore, they would not be letting her through.

It’s only your hand on the back of her armor that keeps a furious Umbra from shooting out of her chair as a mach 5 pain missile towards the already doomed waitress.

With terrible, foreboding slowness, the aged barmare turns to the waitress, who begins to tremble in the now totally silent room.

The old mare, now named Wine, doesn't respond right away. Instead, she stares down the young waitress with an impassive expression somehow a thousand times worse than her previous glare. “Do you now?” Wine asks softly, but the words may as well have been thunder in the silent room. Even the record player has stopped. “No. I don't think you can. You cannot explain to me what you have done.”

Wine slowly circles the lithe mare, who shakes even more and does her best to avoid the barmare’s eyes. “How long have I run this establishment, Autumn?” she asks.

Now your eyes shoot open. Before “The Nightmare?” what the fuck does that mean? She CANNOT mean that this place is…

You send a cursory look to both the mares at your table. Bright Night takes notice, and after looking at the spectacle playing out, mouths ‘Exactly what you think it means’.

The thought floors you. Christ almighty no wonder Wine looks so old. She’s literally ancient!

Autumn is nearly in tears now. “I-it’s a reprieve from what goes o-on outside,” she chokes out.

The other mare leans back, her mouth set into a thin line. “For all who enter, Autumn. Vampony or not, friend or stranger. It hasn't be about just us for years.” She turns away, her burning vermilion eyes closed. “Leave, and do not come back. Ever.”

Autumn needs nothing else as she turns and sprints for the stairs, tears trailing down her face. Whether they’re from the shame of letting Wine down or the shame of being caught, you don’t know. Frankly, you don’t care either.

She rushes past Shank and Sham, who step out of the way and leisurely head up the stairs leading outside themselves.

The drama over, the crowd slowly goes back to talking and laughing, through many eye your table.

Wine the barmare opens her eyes and turns to you, Bright, and Umbra. “I apologize for that,” she says simply. “As you probably already know, my name is Fine Wine. That one didn’t seem like a bad apple when I brought her in.”

“Hmhm! There was no harm done,” Bright says, taking point in the conversation since Umbra was still fuming. “It was fortunate that the unsavory plan was foiled, even if it was at the last moment…” Her pink eyes turn to you, filled with concern. “Are you well, Anon? You’ve ingested nothing but alcohol tonight, yes?”

“I’m good,” you say, honestly a bit shaken. “I don't really feel anything odd, but thanks for the concern.”

A bit shaken might be an understatement. What were you almost drugged with? A common roofie? Something more nefarious? Were Umbra and Bright next? What did Autumn intend to do afterward?

You hand reaches up and rubs the always tender spot on your neck where you feed Umbra. Ever since the thing with Bright, you kept the spot always washed, and the red amulet Glimmer gave you ensured the wound sealed itself promptly.

In your imagination, you see a nameless, faceless vampony swathed in shadow above you, your limbs pinned by them. Then a flash of pain as fangs sink into your neck, the owner greedily downing entire mouthfuls of blood as your vision bleeds black. It hits you there, that your entire life up to that point was just to be food.

Umbra’s dread contorted face comes into focus as she shakes you from her spot on your lap. “Anon? Are you there?”

“You were staring off for almost five minutes there,” your vampony says with relieved sigh. “I thought something was wrong…”

The look on her face is heartbreaking, enough to spur you forward into wrapping the mare in a tight, spontaneous hug. The booze probably helped too.

She goes stiff in surprise, and a tiny gasp leaves the fanged mouth right next to your ear.

“Don’t worry about it, Umbra,” you tell her, feeling her ear jaw work with no words coming out against your cheek. “I’m sorry for worrying you. That’s the last thing I wanted to do. Promise.”

She sniffs. “You’re the one who was almost drugged, and you’re worried about me?” She pulls just far enough away that you can see her small smile and misty eyes. “I really cannot believe you sometimes."

Feeling especially bold, you lean forward and touch your forehead to hers, drawing another surprised look from the gold eyes an inch away from yours.

“I’ll be blunt, you pain in my neck,” you say with a smile. “Of the few things I have in this crazy pony world, you're the one I like the most. So of course I don't like worrying you.”

Her jaw slowly drops as her eyes blink unsurely. Her shock is only there for a moment, however. Her expression melts into a delicate smile with half-lidded eyes, making your stomach tingle and flutter.

"For now, let's just stay here, yeah? We can worry about drugs and the mares tossing them around some other time. Like tomorrow."

For a moment, you just ignore everything else and hold the pony in your arms, enjoying her chilled body against your flushed one.

Both you and Umbra snap your heads around to look at a vaguely amused Fine Wine, who is holding a clean shot glass in her hoof. “I was bringing you a clean glass, but…”

“Hold on now! Let's not get any ideas, about either this or the glass,” you say with a red face, but not letting go of the mare in your lap. “Bring that here so I can drink myself stupid.”

The rest of the evening is spent in a light-hearted haze with fine liquor and even finer friends.

Going Bump in the Night

by Fuggmann

Chapter 8