The rain and mist remained over Ponyville for the next several hours like an unwelcome guest, reflecting Phillip’s mood. He stood on the back porch of his home, leaning against the banister, a lit cigarette in his hoof and a shot glass and a bottle of Kanga-Rum in front of him.
He took a long drag on the cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke that quickly dissipated into the cold, rainy air. The sun, partly hidden behind the clouds, was dipping towards the horizon and the shadows were becoming longer and colder. “Ahh,” he grunted, dousing the cigarette on the banister and flicking it away. He knocked back the entire shot of the rum, then turned and walked back inside.
Daring was sprawled on the couch, snoring quietly, her mane draped over her face; she’d flopped down on the couch as soon as they’d gotten home and was asleep in minutes. When Phillip entered, she groaned in her sleep and shifted, grasping at the blanket that Phil had draped over her.
Phillip glanced up at the clock and saw that it was past five o’clock. He walked over to the couch and gently shook Daring’s shoulder. “Wake up, you bludger,” he said softly.
Daring opened up her light rosy eyes and blinked sleepily up at him. “What time is it?” she murmured.
“Past five. You’ve been sleeping for hours,” Phil said.
Daring sat up and stretched, yawning. “I’m hungry,” she said, rubbing her eyes.
“Good. I’ve got that set at the Apple Pie tonight. You coming?” Phil asked.
“Yeah, sure,” Daring said, pushing the blanket off her and standing up. “Not like I have anything better to do right now,” she muttered.
“Well, Pinkie will be glad to see you back, at least,” Phillip said with a small grin as he hefted his saxophone case onto his shoulders.
“Heh,” Daring laughed quietly. “I’m sure she will be.”
Donning their vests and hats, the two ponies stepped out into the street and walked down to the curb just in time to catch the trolley, leaping up onto the car as it slowed down. They found a pair of seats next to each other in the middle of the car and sat down, silently observing the other passengers.
A unicorn mare on the bench across from Daring looked up from her newspaper and made eye contact with her. The mare’s blue eyes slid down to Daring’s cutie mark, then to her right hoof. Her eyes locked onto the crude red lines and she slowly slid away from her.
The brand began to burn, a faint itching that grew into pain, burrowing into Daring’s skin. She started to glare at the other mare, withdrawing her hoof from out of sight. But then she felt a touch on her other hoof and looked down to see that Phillip had placed his hoof over hers and was squeezing lightly. She looked over at him; he was still staring straight ahead stoically, but she detected a small glimmer of a smile on his lips.
The burning in her branded hoof faded away. She smiled back at him and settled back in the seat, closing her eyes and enjoying the clicking and clattering of the trolley beneath her.
A few minutes later, Phillip shook Daring’s shoulder and she opened her eyes to find the Apple Pie in Your Eye approaching them, the blue and yellow lanterns on either side of the door piercing the approaching darkness. Phillip reached up and pulled the bell to signal the trolley to stop, and the trolley halted with a soft squeal of brakes. Both of them exited the trolley car, Phillip swinging his case onto his shoulders, and walked into the tavern.
The tavern was in its usual state of activity, with a constant low level of talk emanating from the patrons around the tables. Several ponies looked up at their arrival; Daring felt their gazes fix upon her, saw their eyes narrow and smelt their suspicion in the air, and suddenly quailed.
But just as she was hovering in the midst of her indecision, there came a loud squeal and a familiar pink object bounded into view, flinging its forelegs around Daring’s neck. “You’re back, you’re back, you’re back!” Pinkie Pie cried joyfully, her voice and her springy, cotton candy-scented mane assaulting all of Daring’s senses at once. “I was so upset when I heard that you and Phil had a fight, because I know you’re great friends, but I told Phillip to go looking for you, and he found you and—!”
“Pinkie, let her breathe,” Phillip said quietly, gently pulling Pinkie Pie off of Daring.
“Oh, right, sorry,” Pinkie Pie said, smiling apologetically at Daring.
“Don’t jump on me like that!” Daring replied gruffly, glaring at her.
“I’m sorry!” Pinkie Pie cried, looking genuinely upset. “I was just so happy to see you again and—”
Daring started to snap at Pinkie, but Phillip placed a hoof on her shoulder. She turned to face him and he gave her a look that was like ice water on a fire. She let out a slow breath and turned back to Pinkie.
“Just...I’m glad to see you again, too, Pinkie,” Daring said. “Just don’t surprise me like that again, all right?”
“Okie-dokie-lokie!” Pinkie sang, immediately cheering up. “C’mon in, we’ve got more than enough room for everypony!” She gave Daring one more quick hug, a more gentle one-armed embrace, then bounced into the tavern to chat with some other patrons.
Daring turned to Phillip. “I shudder to think what she’d be like drunk,” she whispered.
Phillip just half-grinned and nodded to Daring’s hoof. Daring looked down to find that at some point during their conversation, Pinkie had slipped her a plate with a slice of peach pie on it, and she was now holding it in her hoof. She blinked slowly at the dessert. “How the fu—?”
“Don’t question it,” Phillip said, shaking his head as he led her deeper into the tavern. “You’ll just hurt your head.”
Daring followed behind Phillip, watching the other ponies around her. A few other ponies looked up as she passed and nodded respectfully, their suspicion alleviated by Pinkie’s display. Daring allowed herself to relax and nodded back.
They reached the bar, which was only loosely populated, and sat down next to Coloratura, who was speaking to Applejack. Both mares smiled at them when they sat down.
“Good to see you again,” Applejack said to Daring with a nod.
“And you,” Daring nodded back. “How’s Steamed Carrot?”
“She’s doing well,” Coloratura replied, glancing back towards the kitchen door. “Steamed! Come out here for a moment, please.”
The swinging doors to the kitchen peeked open for a moment and a chubby blue pegasus with frizzy red hair drawn up in a bun peeked out. Her bright green eyes widened in pleasure when they focused on Phillip and Daring. “Hello!” Steamed Carrot cried, bouncing forward and giving both Phillip and Daring a brief hug. “How have you been?”
“Not that bad,” Phillip nodded. “You?”
“Well, can’t complain,” Steamed Carrot said modestly, idly arranging some bottles on the bar. “You got me this wonderful job here, and Pinkie Pie’s been letting me stay in one of the spare rooms upstairs until I find a place for myself.”
“We’ve been having a sleepover every night!” Pinkie Pie called from some distance away.
Steamed Carrot let out a quiet laugh. “Yes, yes we have,” she said. She paused for a moment, then looked up. “Hey, can I get you two anything? On the house!”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to—” Phillip started to protest.
“I insist!” Steamed Carrot said.
Phil and Daring glanced at each other, then looked at Steamed. “What do you recommend?” Daring asked.
“Oh, I’ve just made up this wonderful zucchini boat recipe that I’ve been dying to try!” Steamed said, her excitement palatable. She bounced up and down a bit, her eyes shining. “With onions and grilled oats and drizzled with mozzarella!”
“That sounds great,” Daring nodded.
“Coming up!” Steamed Carrot chirped, disappearing back into the kitchen.
Daring heard a soft sigh and turned to see Rara staring sadly at the kitchen doors.
“I’m still trying to convince her to try singing on stage, but she spends every workday inside that kitchen, not talking to anypony," Rara said. "I wish I could get her to open up more."
"Is she seeing anypony?" Daring asked.
"Yeah, a psychologist," Applejack confirmed. "She's been getting a lot better."
"Good to hear," Daring nodded.
“We’ll keep an eye on her, don't worry,” Applejack promised. “We stick together for our friends.”
“Hear, hear,” Rara agreed.
There was the sound of the door opening and closing again. Daring and Phil both looked up and stared in surprise at the two stallions in trenchcoats that were walking through the door.
Trace Evidence and Red Herring walked up to the bar and stopped in front of the detectives. “Hey,” Trace said flatly, his expression as unreadable as always. Red looked rather odd, probably because he was looking at Daring and he didn’t look like he had a rancid dead skunk shoved under his nose.
“G’day,” Phillip said warily. Daring stared coolly back at Red, trying to read his expression.
“You did good on that case,” Trace said.
“We did,” Phillip corrected, nodding to Trace.
Trace laughed quietly. “I guess we did. All but one of the thieves captured alive and no casualties.”
Daring slowly turned around. “AJ...a bottle of cider, and two glasses,” she said.
“Sure thing,” AJ said with a grin, ducking beneath the bar and coming back up with two glasses and a bottle of cider with a label of an apple on it. She poured out the two drinks as Daring slapped down a couple of bits onto the bar.
“Gentlecolts,” Daring said, sliding the glasses of slightly foamy liquid over to the seats next to her.
Red and Trace looked at each other, then sat down and accepted the glasses. “This doesn’t put you on my Hearth’s Warming card list,” Red pointed out as he sipped at his drink.
Daring snickered. “Fair.”
“You ever get tired of carrying Phil around everywhere?” Trace asked.
“Nah, he loves riding me,” Daring replied with a smirk, flicking Phil’s flank with her tail. Phillip glared at her, his ears turning red as the mares all snickered.
“Ooo-kay,” Trace said, covering the moment by taking another sip. “You should think about getting a car.”
“Oh, here he goes,” Red said, rolling his eyes.
“I’m serious,” Trace continued. “If it were me, I’d suggest the Hayson Commander.”
“Because you drive it,” Red pointed out.
“I drive it because it’s a damn good car,” Trace countered. “I mean, the Diplomat 600 is a flashy car, but it doesn’t get as good a performance.”
“I got the thing because it was cheap and it ran well,” Red replied.
“But for how much longer?” Trace asked. “You know, I bet if Lug Wrench and I took a look at it—”
“Oh, hell no, you and your drinking buddy are not tinkering with my car!” Red said.
“What do you mean, tinkering?” Trace protested. “He’s great with cars! Even taught me a few things.”
“Trace, I didn’t think anypony could teach you anything about cars,” Red smirked.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Trace asked.
Rara reached out and tapped Phil on the shoulder. “Um, maybe we should get ready to start the show?” she asked with a rather forced grin.
“Okay,” Phil nodded, picking up his carrying case. He and Rara both pulled away from the bar and walked up onto the stage. Phillip began to unpack his instrument while Rara set up the microphones and began to warm up her voice.
“Don’t think I’ve ever heard Phil play,” Trace commented.
“He’s really good,” Daring said, taking up a fork and digging it into her slice of peach pie.
As soon as she did so, there was a loud popping sound and a bunch of confetti flew out of the pie slice, settling down on Daring’s head and shoulders like falling leaves. She blinked in surprise, staring down at the no-longer-innocuous dessert.
“Is that normal?” Trace asked, distracted from his conversation by the noise.
“I think so,” Daring sighed, brushing the confetti off her. She dug into the slice and took a bite. The warm flavor filled her mouth, easing a lot of tension in her shoulders that she wasn’t even aware of until it melted away.
Phillip took up his saxophone and nodded to Rara. Rara nodded back and took her position at the piano, playing the soft and mellow intro to Buffalo Summer, accompanying the piano music with the tinkling of chimes that she deftly stroke with her tail. Phillip raised the reed to his lips, closed his eyes, and began to play, the saxophone music floating out of the bell as if carried on a light summer evening breeze. The tavern quieted as every head turned towards the stage, every pony pausing what they were doing to listen to the music. Daring rested her forelegs on the bar and closed her eyes to listen, allowing her tail to sway in time to the rhythm.
The phone behind the bar rang. Applejack turned and picked up the hoofset, holding it to her ear. “Apple Pie in Your Eye,” she said, then her eyes widened. “Who?!” She listened in disbelief for a few moments, then turned to Daring and held out the hoofset. “It’s for you.”
Daring slowly reached out and took the hoofset, holding it up to her ear. “Hello?”
“Good evening, Miss Do,” a familiar voice like silk spoke into her ear.
A grin spread across Daring’s face but did not make it up to her glaring eyes. “Heya, Chuck,” she replied. “What’s up?”
Charlie August Silvertongue’s voice gave a very soft, obviously fake laugh. “Ah, your wit is most entertaining, Miss Do,” he replied. “I was calling to congratulate you on you and your partner’s success with this case.”
“You needn’t have bothered,” Daring replied, her tone falsely honeyed.
“Oh, but I wanted to commend the two heroes,” Silvertongue continued. “I also wished to inform you that I am willing to give you a great monetary reward for your services to this city; fifty thousand bits, to be paid immediately to the account of your choosing.”
Daring was silent for two seconds, ostensibly contemplating the offer. Then she spoke, “Chuck, I know exactly what I want you to do with all that money.”
“Do tell,” Charlie said.
“You can take all fifty thousand bits and shove them all up your asshole, one at a time,” Daring said sweetly and started to hang up.
There was silence for a couple of seconds. "Very well: then I will happily donate the money to a charity for victims of crime, in your name," Charlie said. "A fair trade, I believe."
"It wasn't a trade, Chuck," Daring replied. "We were doing what was right; you had nothing to do with it."
"We can still trade," Charlie stated matter-of-factly. "Consider this gesture my promise to remain silent about the fact that your partner is a murderer, in exchange for your cooperation."
A flash of heat raced up Daring’s spine, causing it to suddenly straighten, and all her muscles tightened. “Don’t talk about Phil like that,” she growled into the phone.
“Lucky Dice's blood is on his hooves,” Charlie continued, still in that matter-of-fact tone. “When he was still an officer—”
“I know,” Daring interrupted him. “He told me everything he did, and you know what? I don’t give a fuck. Phil is a good pony, one of the best stallions I’ve known. Yeah, he fucked up, but so have I. So talk to somepony who cares.”
“There are many ponies who do care, Miss Do,” Charlie continued. “Many ponies who are in a position to make both of your lives very miserable. I told you when I first met you at the museum: in this city, you either bend or you break. And I am—”
“The only asshole in the world that can fuck itself,” Daring snapped back and handed the hoofset back to Applejack. Applejack jammed the hoofset back onto the receiver with a small smirk. Daring sucked in a breath and lowered her forehead onto her hoof, letting out her breath in a low hiss. Her heart hammered out a rapid tattoo against her ribs.
“You okay?” Trace asked. Daring felt him raising a hoof to place it on her shoulders.
Daring took in a deep breath through her nostrils and let it out quickly through her mouth. “You know what?” she said with a smile. “Silvertongue’s not worth getting pissed about.” She pulled out a couple more bits and slapped them on the table. “AJ, another glass, and the bottle.”
“You got it, sugarcube,” Applejack smiled, putting the requested items back up on the bar and pouring Daring a foaming drink. Daring took it and raised it towards Red and Trace.
“Cheers,” she said.
“Cheers,” both stallions said, clinking their glasses against hers before downing the contents.
Daring turned to the stage just as Phillip and Coloratura finished the song. The tavern patrons applauded as the last notes floated away into the air. Phillip opened his eyes and spotted Daring. She raised her glass in salute to him. He nodded back, a small smile displayed on his features.
Phillip then turned and whispered something to Rara. She looked at him, looked at Daring, then smiled and nodded. She stepped forward and took her place at the microphone.
“Good evening and thank you, everypony,” she declared, her amplified voice echoing through the room. “It’s good to see you all enjoying yourselves tonight, and Phillip and I hope that you enjoy tonight’s musical selection. For our next piece, we’d like to warm your hearts with one of Neighry Ponilow’s favorites!”
She retook her place at the piano while the patrons applauded again. Once the applause died down, Phillip closed his eyes again and placed the reed in his mouth. He blew a soft, sighing intro, paused for a moment, then summoned a buzzing melody that mixed with Rara’s counterpoint as she began to sing:
“You know I can’t smile without you,
I can’t smile without you,
I can’t laugh and I can’t sing…”
Daring blinked in surprise and looked at Phillip. He half-opened his eyes and looked back at her, smiling again. She smiled back and closed her eyes, resting her head on the bar and letting the music flow across her like warm water down her back.
“See, I told you,” Red whispered to Trace. Trace grumbled and passed Red a couple of bits.
“Thanks,” Red smirked, pocketing his prize.
“Shut up and drink your cider,” Trace muttered.
Charlie August Silvertongue stared at the phone for several seconds, the dial tone humming incessantly through the speaker. He laughed quietly and placed the phone back down.
“A real charmer, that one; I like her, I really do,” he said to the assembled ponies. He leaned back in his chair. “Now, what were we discussing?”
On the seat next to him, Monopoly scowled at him and adjusted the reading glasses perched on his snout. Across from the table, a tan earth pony mare with wavy gray hair adjusted her glasses and frowned, her expression the very picture of unamused. The three ponies sat upon cushioned chairs in a sizeable, well-lit sitting room around a dark maple table. On one wall was a painting that depicted a group of settlers standing around the banks of the Maresippi River; on the opposite wall was a window that looked out onto the cars outside passing through the town circle, their headlights making the hanging mist glow faintly.
“Before you interrupted, we were discussing Mister Monopoly’s Phoenix Housing Project,” Mayor Mare said, looking down at the sheaves of blueprints on the desk in front of her.
“I do not see why you are concerned,” Monopoly said calmly, taking the glasses off and cleaning them off with a cloth that he pulled out of a pocket of his suit. “Consider what Phoenix is for; providing affordable, up-to-date housing for the ponies that live in the slums of the northern Everfree District, most especially the ones who have recently lost their homes. Consider the money that you will save in healthcare and criminal justice expenditures once this project is complete.”
“I am concerned most of all about the money we are not saving right now,” Mayor Mare replied coldly, tapping one of the blueprints. This paper displayed a map of a neighborhood, with several blue triangles marked across it. “The construction alone is already going over budget with the delays and these fires. I cannot conscience this city paying for more than it has to...especially if the federal government claims eminent domain for their oil pipeline.”
"Let me worry about the oil pipeline," Monopoly waved her off. "All I require is that you uphold the contracts that we agreed upon."
The Mayor narrowed her eyes. "You should have told me about the pipeline beforehoof," she said. "Now that we are looking at a potential eminent domain takeover--"
“With respect, Madam Mayor,” Silvertongue interrupted. “That is not the topic at hoof right now. Right now, we are discussing you paying for Phoenix, as you promised both us and the citizens of this fair city.”
“Not anymore, we are not,” Mayor Mare said firmly.
Monopoly opened his mouth to protest, but Silvertongue raised a hoof. The mayor’s eyes flitted to him, color slowly starting to drain from her face.
“You wouldn’t want to rescind your support from Phoenix,” Silvertongue stated. “You would lose much of your political support; you won the vote with the Everfree District ponies. If you were to go back on your promise to help them with their new homes, it'd be disastrous for you. And for this city: I share the opinion of much of this city that you are the best Mayor Ponyville has had in years, a Mayor that can be credited for several years of relative peace."
He leaned forward slightly. "And if, on top of that, a certain rumor began to spread that you were a part of an anarchist group in your youth, accompanied by some rather incriminating photos and letters leaked to local newspapers, why...that could conceivably ruin your career. Trust me, neither of us wants that to happen, Margaret.”
Mayor Mare swallowed and stared at Silvertongue for several seconds, then swallowed and looked back down at the blueprints. “I will need to discuss it with the city council…” she murmured.
“Take your time,” Silvertongue replied. “You will see the improved construction schedule, as promised. Won’t she, Monopoly?”
“She will,” Monopoly agreed quietly.
Mayor Mare nodded and stood up, retreating into an office behind the sitting room. She closed the door quickly behind her and there was the sound of the lock turning.
“Well, that went well,” Silvertongue said, standing up. “Shall we go?” He turned and exited the room, with Monopoly following behind. They entered the hallway outside; Zugzwang and Secure Lock, who had been guarding the doorway, fell into step behind them as they proceeded through City Hall.
“Are you certain of this, Monopoly?” Silvertongue asked quietly as they walked.
“The thieves stole most of my assets, and they have the Lazarus Ritual,” Monopoly grunted. “I need to recover my finances. I had plans for Phoenix already; this has just accelerated them.”
“As long as you continue to give me my cut, Monopoly, I will support you,” Silvertongue reassured him.
“Just as long as your gift works the way it’s supposed to,” Monopoly replied. “And what about Finder and Do?”
“I'm sure you can handle them,” Silvertongue said with a smirk as they pushed through the front doors of the City Hall and out into the cold, wet night.