//------------------------------// // And Then There is Drama // Story: Filly Games // by Waxworks //------------------------------// Smarty Pants fell into a damp corner. It was dark and smelled of urine. She let her button eyes adjust until she could see around her. When the meager light allowed her eyes to get used to it, she saw she was inside a cell underneath the station. This would have been one of the temporary cells used for holding suspects or other ne’er-do-wells until they were released or transferred elsewhere. But it was inside the station, and that was all that was needed. Smarty Pants scurried out of the cell, easily fitting through the bars, and hurried to the end of the line of cells where there was a small desk and a door. There didn’t appear to be any other ponies in the cells around. This station was in a better part of town, and so the few ponies that were ever arrested were transferred or dealt with very quickly. Many had the privilege of paying their way out as well, given that they were so rich. Smarty Pants grabbed the chair, pulled it closer to the door, climbed it, and leaped for the handle. The weight of the jump was barely enough to turn the handle, and the door clicked open. She dropped down and peeked out the crack, then slipped through and hurried up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, Smarty Pants could hear ponies trotting back and forth. It sounded busy, but not excessively so. The hearthswarming season always saw a drop in crime around the city, and especially so in the richer portions. Guards were planted around the city in more places to discourage would-be ne’er-do’wells. That meant that the police were less busy, and that meant it was going to be easier to navigate the station for Smarty Pants. She huddled just underneath the top step and poked her head up. She looked around to see if anypony was near, but saw nothing. She heard plenty, however. Ponies chattering away on phones and the police’s speaking-shells. They were communicating every sort of police business imaginable. Smarty Pants was looking for a specific officer, however, and needed to find that bastard before she was discovered. Smarty Pants hopped up the last step and scuttled to the nearest office. She looked up at the name on the door, trying to read it. ‘True Clue’ the name read. Not the pony she was after. She moved to the next one and read; ‘Hard Fact’. She continued through them, hiding behind wastebaskets and potted plants as she went. She snuck behind a water cooler and was waiting for a pony to pass when she heard a familiar voice. “I ran into the mare Smart Shot held hostage. She was at the restaurant tonight. Beautiful mare. A shame she’s married with foals. Mares love thanking their rescuer,” Clever Plot said. “Hah! You absolute cad. Taking advantage of mares when they’re emotionally compromised. I heard from Canterlot university that there’s a word for that. Can’t remember what it is, but that’s a distinct thing that happens!” another voice said. “Hey, I don’t care what it’s called. It’s a good opportunity to get laid with no obligation afterward.” “Until they start calling the station to try and find you.” “That happened once!” Smarty Pants followed the two ponies with her eyes, watching to see where Clever Plot disappeared to. He got further away and she was forced to leave her hiding spot to follow after him. She followed along behind shelves and potted plants as ponies walked back and forth, shuffling about and chattering to each other about pointless crimes and stupid orders. Smarty Pants stayed fixated on her target as he walked through the office. Eventually, he parted ways with the stallion he was talking to and entered an office with his name on it. Smarty Pants grinned and hid behind a plant nearby, observing the room from afar. Clever Plot bustled about the room for a minute more, moving papers and shuffling through them, writing on a bit here or shredding some pages there. Nothing else was happening with him, however, and it didn’t look like he was going to be going anywhere anytime soon. Smarty Pants wanted in there badly. She would have the element of surprise, and the advantage of size in order to sneak up on him. He wouldn’t expect an attack in the middle of the police station, and if she could get her hooves on a good enough weapon, she could slit his throat before he was any wiser. Wouldn’t that put the police station on edge! The problem was getting inside his office. She couldn’t reach the handle, and even if she could, the door opening would alert him to the presence of somepony inside his office, which would ruin the attack. How much longer could she wait, though? Twilight was waiting outside. She needed to do this quickly. Suddenly shouting could be heard at the front of the station, and a bunch of ponies ran toward it. Clever Plot heard it as well and opened his door to take a look. Smarty Pants seized her chance, heedless of the ponies trotting past, and slipped inside the office under his hooves. Clever Plot stood in the doorway for a moment longer, then walked toward the front to check. Smarty Pants clambered onto his chair and up to the desk while he was busy. She looked around for a weapon she could use against him, settled on the pointy letter-opener, and clambered back down to hide under the desk. The letter-opener wasn’t the best weapon, but stabbed into soft tissue, it would do more damage than a butterknife. His neck would be the best target, but that would require a higher vantage point. Clever Plot walked back to his desk when he was sure things were well under control. He left the door open a crack to better hear the sound that was going on, then he sat back down. He began going through his papers again, boring desk work which he clearly hated, judging by the scowl on his face, but he was engrossed in it. That was all Smarty Pants needed. She tip-hoofed out from under the desk and to the bookshelf. She held the letter-opener in one hoof and climbed up the shelves with the other. It was difficult, but falling wasn’t going to kill her, so she was careless and swift about it. That raised a good question: could she currently be killed in the traditional sense? Worth exploring, but not at the moment. At the moment, she needed to do a little killing herself. She reached a high enough shelf where she was behind Clever Plot, and had a little bit of a fall before hitting him. She looked out the windows at the front of the office, and planned her escape route through the open door. She gauged the jump carefully, took a small running start, and leaped! The fall was short, but exhilarating. At her current size it seemed like a massive leap, but was probably only a foot or two. She swung the letter-opener down with her fall, and stabbed it into the back of Clever Plot’s neck. Blood spurted out, and he screamed in pain. It wasn’t enough to kill him, though. Clever Plot just screamed in pain. He thrashed and grasped at the letter-opener stuck into his withers with his hooves, shouting and cursing in pain. Smarty Pants released her weapon and dropped to the floor. Her assassination attempt had failed and she needed to skedaddle before she was discovered. She could hide somewhere, but Twilight was waiting for her, and there was no better hiding place than with a little filly living near the police station. She could always come back later. Always… For now, though, she needed to get out to fight another day. She didn’t look back and bolted across the hall. The commotion at the door and now the commotion from Clever Plot’s office had the entire station in a flurry. Everypony was off dealing with something, leaving the offices and the stairs back down to the cells wide open. Smarty Pants threw herself down the stairs, heedless of the fall. She smacked into one of the stairs with no pain, and bounced the rest of the way down. It was disorienting, but not painful. She pulled herself up when she came to rest at the bottom and slipped into the door she had left ajar. She made her way through the musty prison to the corner she had entered from, and clambered up the rough wall to the tiny barred hole and squeezed out. She ran to the fence and called out for Twilight. “Twilight! Time to go!” Twilight peeked out from her hiding place. She looked around, wary of any police, but most were hunting for an attacker inside the station itself. Twilight came out of her hiding spot and lifted Smarty Pants up and over the fence and out of the corral. She hugged Smarty Pants tight, and started walking back out of the alley. As the two approached the front of the station, Twilight got to see the hubbub surrounding the front of the police station. One unicorn was flashing his horn red and blue, maintaining a watch at the front. He saw Twilight immediately and blew his whistle, pointing at the alley. Two officers charged down it toward Twilight, who cowered and started crying. Once they saw it was a filly, their faces softened and they stopped next to her. One of them pulled out a shell to speak into. “Got a lone filly in the alley. Nopony else nearby. No parents. Crying,” the officer said. There was a crackling response, and the mare nodded. “Come on, little one, let’s get you inside. What’s your name?” “Twi-Twilight Sparkle.” She looked at the little doll in Twilight’s magic. “And who’s your little friend?” “That’s… Sm-*hic*-Smarty Pants.” The mare led Twilight into the station, her partner staying out to investigate the alley. She sat Twilight down on a bench and got her a blanket to wrap herself up in, then sat down next to her. “Now would you care to tell me what you were doing in the alley alone at this time of night?” Twilight looked terrified. She glanced up at the mare occasionally, but immediately averted her gaze and looked at the floor, the walls, the ceiling, or Smarty Pants. Anywhere but at the officer. “Uhhh…” “We really need to know. Somepony attacked one of our officers inside the station, and you or somepony you love could be in danger right now!” “Or, we could have found the perpetrator in the alley next door!” Clever Plot interjected. The mare officer stood up to look at the approaching stallion. He had a makeshift bandage around his neck with blood staining it. Twilight gasped when she saw him and looked down at Smarty Pants in surprise and anger. “You said you weren’t going to hurt him!” Twilight said. The mare’s eyes widened in surprise, while Clever Plot’s eyes narrowed in anger. “So, this injury on my neck is your doing as well, young Twilight? Just like my injury at dinner?” He waved his hoof with a band-aid on it in her face. Twilight didn’t say anything, but hugged Smarty Pants tighter and curled up on the bench. “Stop, Clever, can’t you see she’s scared?” “She has every reason to be. This filly stabbed me in the leg at dinner not a few hours ago, and suddenly I get stabbed in the neck with a letter-opener, only to find her outside the police station. I don’t believe in coincidences.” Clever Plot glared at Twilight, then turned to the other officer. “Contact her parents, get them down here. We’re keeping her here until I know why she was down here and why she seems to know I was going to be hurt.” “Yes, sir!” Clever Plot stood over Twilight at her place on the bench. He loomed over her, glaring down at the filly who avoided his gaze. She held her toy close and looked down at the floor. Clever Plot began pacing in front of her. The station had calmed somewhat, not having found anyone inside or out besides Twilight. He waited with her until a concerned mother and a worried father barreled into the station. Twilight Velvet rushed straight to her daughter to hug her close and whisper comforting words. Night Light stood aloof, stern and with a hard look on his face. “Why are you keeping her here?” Twilight Velvet whirled on Clever Plot, pointing an accusing hoof at him. “Because I have been stabbed /inside/ the police station by an unknown assailant, and upon seeing my injury, your daughter said: ‘You said you weren’t going to hurt him!’ to her doll.” Twilight Velvet’s eyes went from Clever Plot to her daughter, and changed from an accusing glare to a worried look. “Twilight, is this true?” Twilight looked down at Smarty Pants and wiggled the doll’s hooves, refusing to look up at her parents. “Twilight. Answer me.” Twilight Velvet’s voice was stern and on the verge of anger. When Twilight didn’t answer, her voice got louder and she ordered her to respond. “Now!” Twilight flinched, but started talking. “Smarty Pants wanted to come see the police station! She said the detective was a bad pony and we should be like Fetlock Holmes and investigate him! I brought her out here and she came inside and I don’t know what happened after that, but then she came out and the police were everywhere and they found me, and then… and then… don’t arrest me! I dun-dun wanna go to brison!” Twilight started crying again and hugged her mother tight. Twilight Velvet’s expression softened and she held her daughter as she cried. She looked at Night Light, who still remained very tight-lipped. Clever Plot still glared down at the filly. “From an older pony, I would take that as an admission of guilt and she would be locked up. From a filly her age, I don’t know what it means, but it’s very near to making her the guilty party. How old is your daughter?” “She’s almost five,” Night Light said. “Has she ever expressed any sort of… malicious intent? Toward animals or siblings?” “Never!” Twilight Velvet said. “Well… not that we know of,” Night Light admitted. “Night Light!” “I’m simply saying that we haven’t seen her do it!” “So, you would believe the detective over your own daughter?” “Twilight admitted she came out to the police station because her doll told her to! This only a month after she was expressing an interest in magically animated constructs! It is entirely possible she has been testing the magic on all that clay we got her for sculpting.” “Why would she do that? What reason could she possibly have for doing that?!” Twilight Velvet was raising her voice as she spoke. “Because she in incredibly intelligent for her age, but still lacks experience! She doesn’t understand right from wrong, yet!” “How dare you! You think your own daughter doesn’t understand?” “She’s four! She just wants to try everything!” Clever Plot stepped in between the two of them, putting a hoof out toward Night Light. “Folks, please, shut up! This is the police station and neither the time nor the place to argue!” He turned toward Twilight Velvet and pointed his hoof at her. “I will tell you what is going to happen, judging from what you and your husband have admitted, and your daughter’s admission herself, I will be keeping the doll here at the station. It is now evidence. You will take your daughter home with you and treat her well, but you will keep an eye on her! I will take your information and speak to you both at a later date. Understood?” Twilight Velvet cuddled her daughter close and turned away from Clever Plot to shield her, but she nodded. “And you, sir. I would speak with you now, if I could, but I will let you go home with your wife and daughter if you wish. Either way, please ask your daughter to give me the doll. It needs to be tested for magic.” Night Light sighed and looked at Twilight Velvet. She glared back at him and he looked back at the detective. “I can speak to you now. I should give my wife time to put Twilight to bed.” He looked at his wife and smiled. “We can talk later, honey. Alright?” Twilight Velvet inhaled deep, closed her eyes, and let out her breath slowly. “Alright. I will see you when you get home.” Twilight protested when Twilight Velvet tried to take away Smarty Pants, but after some quiet reassurance, she let her go, and Clever Plot passed Smarty Pants off to another officer. “Take this to Flugel in the back. I’ll send instructions later. Just record it and get it labeled and send me the info.” The pony nodded, grabbed it in his magic, and walked away. Twilight Velvet stood up and left, carrying Twilight on her back, leaving Night Light and Clever Plot alone, chatting as they walked to Clever Plot’s office. Smarty Pants watched from the officer’s magical grip, expressionless face remaining neutral… for now. She knew they were heading to Clever Plot’s office, and she remembered where that was, but getting away from this officer might be troublesome. She couldn’t let them run any tests, because they would certainly find something. They might even be able to identify the spell, because most were recorded in the Canterlot library. If they knew the spell, and figured out who she really was, they could remove it, and then she would effectively be dead. That simply wouldn’t do. She was carried into a room filled with boxes and bags in lines on a series of shelves. They all appeared to be labeled, which meant this was probably the evidence room, or the seized objects. She was taken to a table and tossed onto it. Another pony came over and looked down at her. “What is zis?” the mare asked. “This is a recent piece of evidence. Clever will want the info when you’re done labeling it.” “Azz you wish.” Hoofsteps retreated, and Smarty Pants was left alone with the unicorn mare. She picked up Smarty Pants, turned her around to examine her, then grunted in annoyance and slapped a sticker on Smarty Pant’s face over her eyes, then tossed her on a shelf.