"So, how was your day?" The golden-coated stallion with a far-to-fetching smile asked.
Oh, he knew how my day had been. Dark, rainy, and full of sketch dames looking to get something out of me. Something like a free job. No, not that kind of job. Dangerous, noir-type jobs like figuring out which crooked cop had paid to have their sire-in-law's dam 'put out to pasture' the hard, violent way.
"How would you like it?"
Again, like I needed to tell him. I slid my gun onto the table.
He gave it a passing glance before giving me another of those smiles. They really were nice. "C'mon, we're friends, right?"
He didn't really want to know, I was sure. I still took the coffee. Sip.
"Not strong enough."
He pouted adorably just as the lightning flashed again, sending his face into stark relief. Somehow it worked for him. Then he did something with my mug that even I, with my years of experience keeping tabs on society's shadiest elements, couldn't follow. The coffee was better, but still lacked something.
"Harder."
He did something else to it.
"I said, harder."
And something more else.
Finally it was palatable. "Good enough."
"Ugh. You're so hard to please Twilight!"
I know. He knew. We both knew. But you didn't become a daisy by spending ten years as a private eye, you only pushed them up, or you got wise. I grunted.
He reached across the table and tousled my still-damp mane.
"Gah!" I squeaked! "Don't do that, Flashy! You can't just give me a noogie like that! Now my mane's all out of order!" Unlike my filing cabinet back at the office.
"Oh, you know you like, waifu-mine!" With a swift peck to my snoot he flounced away to our kitchen, gifting me a sight I always cherished. Unf. I didn't need to be a private eye to recognize an ass when I saw one.