These City Walls

by KitsuneRisu

The One Who Eats the Tail Pt 2

Night Flare wasn’t thrown back in jail. She was ‘invited to wait’, which is essentially the same thing except that you’re not standing behind cold metal bars. She didn't really understand why she was asked to stay at an empty desk and just sit there without moving, but it was still a lot more spacious than her previous lodgings, and complaints weren’t being made much to the appreciation of Sergeant Canary.

Canary, herself, was back at her desk, pondering the tough questions. Night Flare was all the way at the other end of the station, waiting while they tried to figure out what to do with her next.

Normally they’d have let her go. But not after hearing that she not only recognized, but owned one of those stupid cloud puffer things, except that hers was in the shape of a teardrop and was really nice and all that stuff. She really liked it, apparently.

It had been a present, she told Canary, from a nice pony she knew back home by the name of ‘Blitz something-or-other’, who owned a ‘construction shop or something, I don’t really know what she does, actually’ across the street from the bakery where Night Flare herself worked. It was nice that she accepted odd gifts from unfamiliar people, Canary thought, but Canary reminded herself that not everypony was the cynical bastard that she was, and had to contend that gifts sometimes are traded without the need for immediate suspicion of motive and purpose.

Their general relationship was that of customer and provider. Blitz frequently patronized the bakery, and Flare put large custard buns or pizza baguettes into environmentally-friendly paper bags for her. And that was all Night Flare really knew. You usually wouldn't trade much information in these sorts of relationships, and normally, it’d take a really long time before it progresses into what could technically be considered a friendship rather than them simply being acquaintances.

It seems that only just a few weeks ago did this Blitz character decide to offer the first diplomatic hoof by giving her that thingamabob puffer, explaining that it was a new prototype of something or other she was working on regarding scent diffusion. They had lunch once after that, and Flare had forgotten Blitz’s full name. That was the extent of their relationship, which wasn’t very much to begin with.

There was also the fact, however, that Canary had only just, a few days ago, seen that cloud puffer on the shelves of one Miss Duriandal’s store, a store in which a murder had been committed.

It would be remiss for Canary not to follow up on such a clear lead.

Her eyes wandered to the newspaper on her desk, that no doubt somepony had left there for her to keep track of the local stories. It was quite essential for them to keep up on top of things, and ironically, the newspapers sometimes yielded information that they had missed, and she wasn’t too proud to admit it.

The paper was yesterday’s Equestria Daily, the best and more often than not, fastest newspaper in Canterlot. Canary never knew how, but they always seemed to manage to get the scoop on everything - even pictures - which was quite odd since she never usually saw anypony around taking photos, besides her own team who took them for evidence. She had, at one time, considered the possibility that Silver or the innocent little Berry were selling some of the pictures for a few extra bits on the side, but she later realised that trust was the foundation of everything they did, and character stood for everything. And of course, she trusted her companions with her life - maybe a little bit of Berry’s naivety rubbing off.

“MURDER in CANTERLOT,” the paper read, headlines screaming at Canary. She gave it a quick scan, not really having the time and effort to read it thoroughly. In some cases, especially in cases like these, you also had to read the papers for a secondary reason – to find out what the public thought, rather than knew, and prepare for the fallout accordingly.

This time round, there wasn’t anything in the article that the public couldn’t have discovered by simply being there. There weren’t any witness leads, interesting titbits or insightful assumptions by the press media, and for the most it simply worked as a warning to Canterlot that there, in fact, was somepony out there who was very dangerous indeed. Bottom line, it saved the police the need for an early press conference, something that would expend time and resources.

The photo that accompanied the article was a wide shot of the entire scene, something that could be considered professionally done if the subject matter wasn’t what it was. In the upper right corner she could see the rear half of Constable Berry; her flank sticking in inconspicuously from out of frame.

Canary shook her head to herself and shuffled the paper away to the side of her desk, where it lay in an unceremonious, wrinkled heap.

Berry.

With all her inaptitude and her clumsiness and frame of mind, she still joined the force, and requested specifically to be partnered with Sergeant Canary. Canary didn’t know why, and that was the one single thing that Berry obstinately refused to talk about. And to make it worse, she had failed the entrance test twice, wasn’t very together during basic training, and was pretty much recommended by her supervising training sergeant to find another line of work.

It was perseverance and only perseverance that led her to finally make it to where she was. There was someone up there in command who saw something special in her, something that you had to look very carefully to find, but it was there; a diamond in the rough.

Although, in Berry’s case, it was more like a Sweetcake in a mound of sweaty diapers.

Canary thought she knew what that something special was. But Canary never claimed to have the best eyesight, and maybe that glint within her that sometimes showed itself was actually just the glowing lure on an anglerfish, ready to take a bite at you if you got too close.

Maybe that’s why no one really dared to get close to Berry.

That didn’t explain why Berry was the closest thing that Canary had to a friend, though.

She watched her now, as she talked the ear off the other Sergeant who had so nicely offered to help with the evidence processing, pattering around and scrutinizing every tiny thing.

Canary ought to go take over soon.

,---(*< ~---,
'---------------'

 
“This is Constable Berry,” said Staff Sergeant Blue Beat, “She has been assigned as your new partner-in-training from this point forth.”

The facially-endowed pony gave the two ladies in front of him a rough stare. “Constable Berry, this is Sergeant Canary, your immediate supervisor and partner. Get yourselves acquainted.”

Canary stared out of the corner of her eye at the static figurine standing to the side of her. This new pony didn’t move an inch save of a trickle of sweat that was slowly running down the side of her forehead, passing through her straight, layered mane. Her hair looked like a lasagne gone wrong. She looked like she was wrong. Everything was wrong.

“I don’t need a…”

“Don’t need a partner, yes yes,” interrupted Blue Beat. “I know. Trust me, I know. But I’ve been covering your flank for a year and the higher ups aren’t going to let this slide anymore, even if you’ve got Celestia’s horn in your pocket. In fact, that’s what they’re all up in wings about, some manure about you not representing us right and all that.”

“I work better alone,” argued Canary, ignoring both the statue painted mute red next to her as well as Blue Beat’s pointless attempt at logos.

“Yes, you do,” agreed Blue Beat.

“And I don’t need a partner.”

“No, you don’t.”

“And?”

“And you’re going to get one anyway, Canary. It’s out of my hooves. Anyway, you should be happy to know that this one here asked to be assigned to you personally. Put in a special request and everything.”

“As opposed to?”

“As opposed to the fact that one of the reasons why you’ve managed to escape having a partner for this long is because no one single sergeant wanted to be paired with you and your reputation. It’s got to the point where top brass even decided to make an exception and let completely fresh cadets step up to post.”

Canary turned, like a creaking door, to stare Berry in the left ear. She still wasn’t moving, although it appeared that her sweat drop had thrown a party and all its friends were invited.

“You kidding me?” asked Canary.

“Nope. Now get out and go show her the ropes. And remember, if this one dies, there’ll be plenty more cadets to take her place, so don’t even think about it.”

Canary sighed inwardly. She never sighed outwardly; that would be a show of weakness. Her kind of sighs were the kind that were usually accompanied by a low grumbling of the brain as it complained about all the things wrong with the world and how this extra little thing was just making it that much worse.

“Just keep out of my way,” she said to Berry, heading for the door.

“Dismissed, Constable,” Blue Beat said.

“Y…yes sir!” Berry yelped, making a smart turn in place and exiting as well.

Berry trailed after Canary like a baby chick following her mother, all the way out of the office, across the floor, and to Canary’s desk, where Canary took her usual spot behind it and started to sort through paperwork.

Berry cleared her throat.

Canary decided that it would be an opportune time to sharpen her pencils.

Berry cleared her throat again.

Canary figured that the stack of case files in the corner ought to be stacked a bit more neatly.

It was like waiting for a bomb to go off - that excruciating few seconds between utter silence and utter chaos, and the ticks of the clock came in the form of a light ‘ahem’ that appeared from her new partner.

“What the hay do you want?” Canary snapped, mere milliseconds before Berry cleared her throat for the third time.

“Um… Constable Red Berry, reporting in, Sergant!”

“Ok. Do I care?”

“I just got back from a detail in the Everf…”

“Don’t care. What else do you want?”

“Um… I was told to give you my repo…”

“Don’t care. What else do you want?”

“You were supposed to debri…”

“I do not want to debrief you,” said Canary, staring horns into Berry’s forehead, “because I do not care.”

“Well, I just… I just thought…”

“Ok. It’s a big cliché to say this, but honestly, I never figured I’d be in this position. But considering my options, I really don’t have anything to say. You thought wrong, Constable. I don’t need a partner, especially some wet-eared little greenhorn. Come back in five years when you’ve grown up and maybe then you can give me your damned report.”

Canary went back to arranging her files.

After a long, tense moment, Berry cleared her throat again.

“What?!” The files came crashing down onto the desk as they were dropped roughly, sending a sprinkle of office debris in every direction.

“We… we should maybe… get to know each other…?”

“Girl, are you stupid?” Canary shouted, temper flaring.

“Yes Ma’am,” Berry nodded.

“What?”

“I’m… um… not the most intelligent of ponies, I know… but I’ll try my best, Ma’am,” she continued nodding. “And I figure… I figure we might as well get used to each other now because it’s like sticky buns.”

Canary just blinked. And that was the first in a long line of similar interactions between the two of them.

"What?"

"If... you... take a tray of sticky buns out of the oven..." Berry continued, not entirely sure if she should have or not, "and they're both very hot... they won't stick together. But if you give them... time to cool and for the honey glaze to set, then they'll be inseperable."

Canary blinked again.

"Um... it's... like... I know you're mad with me right now, because I've done... come up and ruin your thing... but I hope with time... we'll cool off and..."

Berry's voice trailed off when she finally realised that it might be better to just stop.

"... stick together..."

And there it was. Something slightly profound, yet rather stupid about it all, but something that made Canary sit up and take notice. She wasn't sure about it yet, and she sure wouldn't be certain about it for the entire time they would know each other, but at that very moment, a tiny pinprick of light appeared at the bottom of the well of darkness that was Canary's infested thoughts.

There was something special about this one. Not to say that Canary gave many ponies a chance in the first place, but this one had sought her out, this one had faced her up, and this one only ever bespoke the innocent truth. Wrapped up in her fantasies of sticky buns and marmalades and dancing cotton candy clouds were endearment bullets of pure lead, and she had a special non-stick-surfaced gun to fire them with.

But as dim lights go, they never shine so bright as to cast out the gloom, and once again Canary found that deep hatred murmuring up inside of her, whispering dark secrets and playing on her temper.

"Get lost. Now," Canary demanded, as the final light winked out.

"Yes, Sergeant," nodded Berry. She understood. She understood perfectly, and did not bother to engage Canary for the rest of the day.

A day later, Berry bought Canary a nice empty picture frame and a box of paperclips. She didn't explain what they were for, but simply just put them on her desk, saying that they'd be used when they needed to be used, and no trouble, sorry for disturbing you, ma'am.

The day after that, Canary invited someone to lunch with her for the first time since ever.

,---(*< ~---,
'---------------'
 

"Boss?"

"Huh?"

"Boss? Every'in ok up in there?"

Canary returned to real life as her surroundings came sweeping back to her, a blur of colour and noise all crashing down. She had wandered off a little bit for a while, but her vision focused onto the image of Silver, who was standing crouched down in front of her and looking up as if inspecting the underside of a table.

"Wha... Hey, get off!" Canary stepped back, as Silver straightened up and chuckled.

"Ey boss. Tracked 'at blood trail 'ere. Led to the Spiffin’ ‘States, it did. Detail's on'er way."

"Spiffington Estates? Good job. Did you get an address of the house where the crime took place?"

"Eh... it's priddy obvious, boss."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"Didn't like th' looka' tha' myself, boss."

"Anyway, do me another favour, would you? Remember the first crime scene, up in HoneyLane? I need you go get me the shopkeeper from the perfume store up the left side. Green coat, dark green mane. Very spiky hair. Perfume bottle Cutie Mark. Name of Duriandal."

Silver nodded, backing up like a truck and then spinning around, before taking to the skies of the police station interior and narrowly missing the frame as she darted out the doorway.

"Ok, now where were we..." Canary muttered to herself, looking back up at the whiteboard. It had been updated with death number two, pictures and related information all written down in their respective column. This time, there were many elements that fell out of place, and many missing points of reference. Of course, they still had to go hit up the scene at Spiffington Estates, where the rich ponies lived.

Then there were the books that they still had; the ones that Canary had barely begun to read back up on the hill.

And there was that damn cloud thing. That one had to wait. There wouldn't be any answers until Silver returned.

"I'm back, Boss," Silver said, silently flying up behind Canary.

"What the..." Canary jolted forward, shocked at the sudden appearance. "Don't do that! I mean... already? Not even you could have fetched her that fast."

"Eh... she kinda fetch'd 'erself," Silver said, jerking a hoof at the doors of the police station.

And standing there in the dim light of the lamps were two figures. One, clearly, was the very pony that seemed to lie just on the fringe of all this, and somepony that she had never seen before. But boy was her hair really poofy.

The two of them rested there, shaky and unsure, and had about them the feeling of general disease. The one that she recognized –Duriandal – had a worried look on her face, the kind of worry that just makes you tired and weak rather than frantic and excitable. She also seemed a bit out of it, by Canary’s standards, and had to be helped into the station by her friend.

Canary quickly cantered over to greet the newcomers. She wasn’t entirely sure what to say, but luckily, Duriandal and her friend decided to engage first.

“Hi, we’re looking for an offi…”

“That is her, that is her, Blitz. That is officer Canary.”

“Duri, be polite,” scolded Blitz, turning to the approaching policepony. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“No apologies necessary, miss,” replied Canary. “What can I do for you two?”

“Well, it’s a long story, ma’am.”

“Alright, why don’t you come in and have a seat?”

She led them from the door to the deep recesses of the station, past desks and closed doors and hushed secrets.

She did not expect an exclamation coming from the other link of the chain.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” came a voice, ringing out loudly in the station.

Night Flare quickly weaved her way through the floor and came to face Blitz.

“Hey, it’s you… from across the street?” reconfirmed Blitz.

“Yeah, yeah! What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Wait, you two know each other?” Canary asked.

“Yeah,” stated Flare. “She’s the one who gave me that cloud thing, you know?”

Canary started to feel butterflies; the kind of feeling that you get before having to perform for a large crowd, or having to present a report. She was having it in spades, an anxious gnawing in the pit of her stomach, ants tearing away at her intestines. She wasn’t nervous about performance – this swarm of insects was being lulled by the overwhelming nagging feeling that there was simply something there lurking beneath the surface, something that she just couldn’t see. Too many coincidences gave her a bad feeling, and this one just went full circle.

“Ok, ok everypony keep quiet,” she suddenly said, looking at the three of them one after the other, ending with Flare. “You, get back to your seat. BERRY!”

“Yeah Sarge!” Canary’s second in command appeared from the horizon.

“Berry, take miss Duriandal here to the holding cells for a while. Make sure she doesn’t have any contact with either Night Flare or this one here.”

“Officer? What is this… about?” asked Blitz, cautiously. She wasn’t too happy about how strange-paced this meeting had suddenly become, and she certainly wondered what her work-neighbour was doing here.

“You… you are hereby under arrest.”

,---(*< ~---,
'---------------'
 

“You’re under arrest!”

Canary groaned.

“Uh… Sarge?”

“Berry?”

“Yes Sarge?”

“Berry, you can’t arrest her.”

“Why not, Sarge?”

“She’s five, Berry.”

Canary gently massaged her throbbing horn. And she was in no mood for that to be taken the wrong way, believe you me.

“Yeah but she’s guilty.”

“She picked an apple up, Berry.”

“From a tended fruit stall, Sarge!”

“Do you… do you at all see, Constable, anypony running around madly, screaming at the top of her lungs, ‘help me, oh help me, a three year old stole one of my apples, whatever should I do?’”

“No, Sarge?”

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am,” Canary said to the bemused stall owner, dragging Berry away by her tail.

They walked on, away from the market square, where things were just obviously too busy and colourful and noisy for Berry, who was essentially akin to a Unicorn child learning how to use magic for the first time. Every Unicorn had been there once, but this was the first time Berry actually had the magical power of being able to detain ponies for suspicion of crime.

They walked, Berry trailing behind Canary, down an alley to a far 'quieter' part of Canterlot, by which was meant that there were as few as two or three other ponies standing around at any given time. But it was alright, because like in any big city, none of them really gave manure about you anyway. In fact, they tended to ignore ponies in uniform more so than other ponies, based on the assumption that if they didn’t make eye contact, they were invisible and maybe the nice policewomen will leave them alone.

“Berry,” Canary said, idling by the side of a worn brick building, a remnant of the more ancient parts of the city, before everything was white-washed and gilded. An innocent bystander quickly made haste to leave the scene.

“Yes, Sergeant?”

“I need to teach you how to do…”

No, that was wrong.

“I need to teach you how not to do your job.”

“What do you mean, Sergeant?”

“What I mean is that… you need to know when to let crime happen.”

“I’d never…”

“I know you’d never. That’s the problem. You’re police. And yes, that comes with the whole responsibility and nonsense, but it’s not what should be done.”

"I don't understand, Sergeant."

"What I'm saying is that you wouldn't be standing here today in that hat and that legband if it weren't for a hundred other ponies forgiving you and giving you chances when the world has thrown you to the dragons. Same goes for me, and same goes for every other pony in Equestria."

"We have to forgive criminals, Sarge?"

"We're in the position to, aren't we?"

"Yeah but... then what are we for?"

"You know what the word police means, Berry?"

"What, like the definition?"

"It means to regulate, Berry. To uphold. To maintain. We aren't enforcers. We aren't masters of our domain looking down upon everypony. We exist in the domain to make sure everyone's happy and everything's going perfect. But there's the thing, Berry."

"Nothing's perfect?" Berry repeated what Canary had said many times before.

"Yeah. Nothing's perfect. What do you do if you're pulling a cart down the road and there's a bunch of little pebbles and a big log that's in your path?"

"I'd remove the big log."

"Yeah. If you stop to pick up every single damn pebble, you'll never make it to where you're going. You just need to remove enough to ensure you get there, even if it's not the smoothest of journeys."

"How do I know when a pebble's a log, Sarge?"

"That... is for you to find out yourself."

There was an uncomfortable silence as Berry attempted her best search.

"I dunno, Sarge..."

"Ok. Let's say you're chasing down a perp. He just stole a purse from a young lady, and she's crying her eyes out. She's distraught. What do you do?"

"Well... I'd you know, comfort her, I guess?"

"Why?"

"Because she's in front of me, and she needs help, and it's my duty to help her!"

"No. It's not your duty to help her."

"It isn't, Sarge? I thought it was."

"While you're comforting her, that thief just robbed another three old ponies and got a clean getaway."

"But what about the lady, Sarge?"

"Berry, you just gotta learn how to put yourself aside for once, you know? You can either help one lady feel better, but you'd never get their purse back, and a lot of ponies down the line get hurt, or you could make sure that it doesn't happen again."

"So... you'd give chase and ignore the lady, Sarge?"

"Every time."

"I don't think so, Sarge."

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, Sarge, sorry."

"Am I missing something, Berry?"

"I dunno, Sarge," said Berry, dismissively. "But I think I understand what you mean. I just gotta decide what's more important in the long run, right?"

"That's about right."

Canary took a deep, refreshing breath, thinking back to a year ago, and let her gaze walk down the streets that were so unfamiliar to her back then.

"I've been here a year, and until now, I still don't know how she does it."

"Who, Sarge?"

"Princess Celestia. She's... really not what most ponies think. She's... smart. Too smart. Something uncolt-ly smart. You'd think that'd be enough to run an entire civilization. But it's not."

"It isn't, Sarge?"

"There's something else she has that no pony has."

"Something else, Sarge?"

"Humility. A lot of it."

"Humility, Sarge?"

"Stop repeating me. And yes. Humility. She sits at the top of the world, but crawls below the lowest member of her community. She's busy with all sorts of functions and galas and colt knows what else, but you could ask her for tea and she'd oblige."

"You've... asked her out for tea, Sarge?"

"What? No!" Canary lowered her brow at Berry in annoyance. "Of course not. I just mean she's able to rule because she's both above and below everything at once. Seeing everything from both sides."

Canary thought a little before going on.

"That's why they make investigative officers like me have a partner, you know?"

"What do you mean, Sarge?"

"I... and the rest of us... we only see things in one direction. Having a partner who's completely opposite us... helps us to see things from both sides. Two of us make one Celestia."

"So... I'm your opposite, Sarge?"

"Yeah... I guess so."

They had started to walk a while back, trailing the walls to a small short overlook that hung off the tier they were on. Canterlot had a lot of tiers. Under them, spread out like a canvas painting, were the rooftops of buildings, making waves of spires and towers, a hundred masts sticking up above a sea of concrete.

Canary looked.

"You know, for a year, I managed to work my way around without needing anypony's help. Then you came along."

"That was three months ago, Sarge."

"You ruined my life, you know that?"

"I know, Sarge. A lot of ponies say that to me."

"Yeah. Had a cushy job, too. I got things done. I had my whole gig planned out. Seeing things from my side was pretty ok as far as I was concerned. And then you came along," Canary repeated.

"I'm sorry, Sergeant."

A small bird landed on the banisters that prevented ponies from walking off the side of the ledge. It did a little hop, and dance, and then took to the sky without any hesitation whatsoever.

"You came along. Little impudent thing. Waltzing in the place and just destroying my world. My life. Everything I've built for myself."

"Sorry, Sarge."

"You know what your problem is, Berry?"

"What, Sarge?"

"You forced me to change."

,---(*< ~---,
'---------------'
 

"I just met her pony to pony for the first time three days ago, on Monday," said Blitz Breeze.

"I'm sorry, what?" asked Canary. This question had no sarcasm behind it. It was a genuine request for Blitz to repeat herself; Canary was running low on the fuel known as sleep and for some reason her mind kept wandering to the past. "I mean, could you elaborate please, Miss Blitz?"

They stood in the old familiar room once again, the place where stories were spun. Blitz was standing there calmly. There was no reason for her to be upset or cause a scene. A level head solves most problems. Of course, there was this nagging feeling tugging at Canary's ear that some of these answers came out a bit too easily and a bit too smoothly...

"It was in the evening of Monday, I don't remember the exact time, but I had received a couriered letter informing me of a business prospect from Duriandal. We have had communications in the past, but only ever strictly for business purposes and I had never seen her before prior to that day."

"What exactly did the letter say?"

"I can't remember exactly, but the gist of it was that I should go down for some kind of big prospect or something. There weren't any details, but I figured it was important because she paid for a within-the-hour."

"And what happened after that?"

"I went."

"And what did she want?"

"She said that she wished for me to spend the night in exchange for money."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, right. Yeah, I got that too. Um... actually, that's exactly what it was. She wanted to pay me just for me to hang around and be present. Nothing weird, outside of the fact that the request itself was kind of weird to begin with, I guess."

"Just the facts, ma'am."

"Of course, officer."

"And to the best of your knowledge, why did Miss Duriandal make such a request?"

"Because the police told her that somepony might have been murdered in her shop and she was understandably a little bit frightened."

"You seem quite unperturbed by that fact, Miss Breeze."

"Yes, and that is how I cope with stress."

"And are you under stress now?"

"Considering the circumstances, quite a lot."

"I see... and... could you elaborate on the nature of your relationship prior to your meeting, Miss Breeze?"

"As I mentioned, it was that purely of business. She had sent a letter out a few months ago about a concept for some sort of perfume diffusing device. She had found me through the Cloudsdale business listings, of which I have registered myself in as a specialist. I accepted the job, and started creating what she would later term cloud puffers."

"Our correspondence was infrequent, and through letters only," Blitz continued. "Once the working prototype was complete, and she was satisfied with its performance, I started about making them in various shapes. She paid me for batches of them."

"And what exactly are you a specialist of, Miss Breeze?"

"I am in the business of cloud construction, ma'am. I do a lot of work with carving, too. I make art, but also make functional furniture and other such things made out of clouds and other materials. This was the first time somepony had requested that I make something to this level of intricacy, but I enjoy a good challenge. I own a workshop up in Cloudsdale."

"What sort of other materials are we talking about here?"

"Oh, everything. Wood, marble. The usual."

"How do you get them around, Miss Breeze?"

"Pardon me?"

"Your work. How do you move them around?"

"I... carry them?"

"Would you say you could carry a lot, Miss Breeze?"

"Depends on what you mean by a lot, Ma'am."

"I'm sure working in a workshop such as you described... involves a lot of labour as well."

"Yeah," Blitz nodded slowly. "It does. I usually have to carry raw materials as well as finished products. Delicately, too."

"Do you think you could carry me?"

"Uh..."

"Humour me."

"I suppose so, yes. I wouldn't be able to fly really fast or steadily or stable, but I think I could."

"What if I were struggling? Could you carry me then?"

"Struggling? Uh... I have no idea, ma'am."

"You sure?"

"Well, none of my marble statues ever fought back before," Blitz said, a tinge of suspicion hanging off her lips. "Exactly what are you getting at, officer?"

“Could you tell me about where you were from the time you met Miss Duriandal until now?” Canary ignored the question.

“Well, on Monday evening I made my way down there, and met with her. Ever since then I’ve been with her until now.”

“All the way straight? And she can confirm this?”

“Yes, officer, she can confirm this. And I was with her all the way straight except for a few hours when I went back to Cloudsdale to take care of some things.”

“And when was this?”

“I returned about an hour to an hour and a half ago.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I see,” said Canary, writing something down in the clipboard she had in front of her. Unlike for the case of Night Flare, this clipboard actually did serve its intended purpose.

“And you decided to come straight to the police station right after you returned?” Canary continued.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“For what purpose?”

“Well, this one’s hard to explain, officer.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and give it your best shot?”

“We’ve been… seeing somepony, officer. This pony... Duriandal and I both saw him once in her house when I was staying the night, and she also saw him flying overhead just a few hours ago while I was back in Cloudsdale. We’re concerned, and decided to engage your assistance.”

“A pony, you say?”

“Yes. He’s… well, honestly, we don’t know that he’s a ‘he’, really. But he looks male. It’s hard to tell. Both times we’ve seen him, it was at night. Essentially he looks like a normal pony, except that he has this really odd red eye and this strange smile.”

“Odd red eye and strange smile?” that made Canary look up.

“Yes, officer. It looks like this really round circle, not at all like a normal eye. And it’s completely red. I don’t know how else to describe it, ma’am. Also his smile… it just doesn’t look real. And I don’t mean in the sense that it’s not genuine, I mean in the sense that… it looks like there’s layers or something covering the mouth. But I didn’t really get a good look, to be honest.”

“I see,” said Canary, putting the clipboard down on the table.

“Um… officer, I’m sorry about this, but really, what’s this about?”

“Either you’re a criminal mastermind, a complete idiot, or just somepony in the wrong place at the wrong time, but I’m going to vote for the second.”

“Ex… excuse me?”

“Let's see. You mysteriously appear in Duriandal’s life the day somepony is murdered in her store. And then later, you just happen to not be around the exact same time the second murder takes place?”

“Second…? there’s ano…”

“Furthermore, we know the bodies were flown into the scenes, and by your own admission you are pretty adept at carrying heavy items on your back.”

“Well that’s true but…”

“Basically you just waltzed in here and gave me a complete admission of guilt.”

“Wait, what, wait, hold on now,” Blitz held her right hoof up. “Are you saying that I killed those ponies?”

“The evidence is pretty strong, wouldn’t you say?”

“Well yes, but... if I killed those ponies why would I just tell you everything that makes me look bad?”

“That's where the complete idiot part comes in."

"Now, look now. I didn't kill... I mean... I couldn't..."

"Can anypony vouch for your whereabouts during the times you weren't with Miss Duriandal?"

“N...no, but... but,” Blitz started to fluster a bit, now that things had taken a much more serious tone. “It’s coincidence, or something. I mean, first of all, I saw that thing myself with Duriandal the first time. She’ll tell you the same story! If I were the murderer I wouldn’t have seen him, right?”

“And how do you know that thing that you saw was the murderer in the first place?”

“I…”

Blitz stopped. That was true. There really hadn’t been any sort of connection between the murder and that thing that they saw.

“It seems to me, that you may have set it up to give yourself a good alibi, while one of your sick friends in a mask or something, I don’t know, made an appearance so that you could later go about doing your thing.”

“No, no officer, no. Really. No.”

“Why’d you kill them, Miss Breeze?” Canary cocked her head at the suspect, putting on the pressure.

“I didn’t! I swear!”

“What was it? Money? Revenge? Or are you just getting some sick thrills from the rush?”

“I didn’t kill them, officer, honestly! I didn’t! It’s… look, it’s all circumstantial now, right?” Blitz desperately fought the tide. “I mean, there’s nothing that links me directly to the crime scenes, right?”

“Yeah, really? What’s this then?”

A small broken white thing in a clear plastic evidence bag floated up from somewhere below the table and placed itself in front of Blitz.

“Oh Colt,” said Blitz.

,---(*< ~---,
'---------------'
 

“Congratulations on solving the case,” said Blue Beat. “Now get the hay out of my office.”

Canary left the paperwork on Blue Beat’s desk, and left without another word, Berry in tow. Berry also remained silent, but gifted Staff Sergeant Blue Beat with a little smile as she turned to leave, in the way that she usually did.

“Our very first felony case together,” squealed Berry. “We did it, we did it!”

“Yeah, took you long enough. Six months since you got here. What, you trying to set some new speed records, Berry?”

“Well, you never allowed me to take on the serious cases before, Sarge.”

“That’s because you could only handle the misdemeanours, Berry. I mean, essentially, you are a misdemeanour.”

Regardless of words, Canary was truthfully in a cheery mood as well. She always had that big happy feeling of completion whenever they managed to close a case, and this was a big one. It had been a two-week-long operation, involving many members of the team, and Berry’s first true field assignment.

She was let in on it because she had expressed, many times in rapid succession, how she wanted to become an investigative officer like Canary. She really, really wanted to be just like Canary one day, so if you could please please please just let me in, I won't do anything I promise, I won't touch anything and I won't speak but just please let me join you, and Canary said yes so that neither of their heads would explode.

Prior to this, they had only allowed her to walk the beat - the general patrols - mainly due to the fact that she had zero real-world experience before being assigned to Canary. All she had was what she learnt in a classroom, and that counted for absolutely squat in their line of work. Canary didn't even know why they still taught it in the first place. It was best, in her opinion, to just let them do things, and graduate the ones who were still alive by the end of it.

But as bureaucracy was, they didn't allow Canary to just let Berry 'do things', and everyone in the station cringed at the idea of allowing Berry to do anything by herself. So began the long, six month journey that led to this point.

To be honest, Canary didn't think she was ready yet. But between the responsibility required to take care of a newbie in the field, and the patience needed to teach somepony the ins and outs, Canary found it easier to just not give a flank.

So when it came down to it, Canary allowed her on the case to shut her up.

Luckily, nothing bad happened.

It was a strange case; a group of ponies were smuggling illegal rainbows out of Cloudsdale for some unknown reason, and they had to team up with the Cloudsdale Rangers to get to the bottom of it.

It turns out, when dried and ground, rainbows make a pretty decent, albeit unhealthy, replacement for chilli powder.

Their job, on their end, was to intercept the shipment of rainbow juice coming in and trail it to the processing plant.

To cut a long story short, it ended up with 8 arrests, the plant being shut down, and a job well done.

To everyone's surprise, amazingly, Berry was the one who initially found the plant by applying a bit of lateral thinking, which is a nice way of saying she had a really insane idea that worked. She figured that handling a bunch of rainbow powder would be messy work, and that it would definitely get everywhere, and essentially all you needed was to moisten up the place - something easily done by their Pegasus friends - and they literally found their gold at the end of a dozen or so rainbows.

Back at the station, though, Canary celebrated this victory with five minutes to herself at her desk. But this called for something extra special. She withdrew a key from the back of one of her drawers, and twirled it around her horn as she brought it over to Berry.

"Hey, I got a surprise for you. Come with me," she told Berry, tearing her away from her chatting and her celebratory soda.

Canary brought her to the back of the station, where all the things were kept. Things, of course, being a relative word; most of their equipment and important items were kept there, but what Canary was going for was the cupboard that held a Bunch of Weird Objects.

These objects collected over the years. No one in the station knew when it started, or even why, but it was pretty obvious it was because their predecessors simply had no place else to put them and decided to fill a cupboard with it. They had added to it over the years, and basically it was just a box of toys that no one used. They were misfits, every single one of them.

The key turned in the lock, why they bothered Canary hadn't the faintest, and the cupboard doors swung open. Within, stacked up on shelves and hanging on hooks, were various devices of all sorts, a veritable museum of nick-knacks and gewgaws.

"What's this about, Sarge?" asked Berry, her eyes jumping from object to object.

"Think of it as an unofficial reward, Berry. You get to take something from the closet."

"Ooooooo," Berry's eyes widened. The closet. She had only dreamed.

"Yeah, I know you like your gadgets, so take your time and pick..."

"This one," said Berry, pulling a helmet off a hook.

"That thing?"

"Yeah, this thing," Berry nodded rapidly.

"Alright. Straight to business, eh?"

"Yeah, I love it. You know, I never knew... what do you call this spinning red light, anyway?"

"That... that's actually called a Berry, Berry," Canary explained, locking the cupboard back up.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Wow, that's a sign, Sarge. I'm going to wear it always," Said Berry, trying the helmet on for size.

"Uh... it's best that you don't..."

"Say cheese, Boss," said Silver, cutting in suddenly. A flash went off as an unflattering photo of Canary and Berry was taken.

"Hey," Canary frowned.

"'s for th' mem'ries, Boss!"

"Yeah, but don't use official police equipment to do it!"

"Hey, Sarge, want some cake? There's cake out there!"

"Ok, ok, enough of this. Everypony keep quiet," Canary waved the noises off and returned to her desk, away from the general party, leaving Berry behind to enjoy what was essentially hers to celebrate.

She looked at the empty picture frame that stood on the desk, boring and alone. At least, she thought, she might finally have a use for it.

Berry's first completed mission, huh?

It felt good, oddly. It felt like Canary herself had completed a huge undertaking, but normally when she closed a case she just felt like any other day. This time, there was something else. A sense of pride that wasn't necessarily hers to begin with.

She didn't know what to make of this feeling, but it was best to bury it along with everything else she didn't understand. Less trouble that way. Less trouble.

She looked up from the desk to watch Berry mill about, smiling and laughing and getting congratulations all around. Only herself and Blue Beat weren't taking part, and Blue Beat had an actual excuse.

And that silly helmet with the lights on... she really hoped that Berry would forget about it eventually and leave it behind.

And she didn't know why she cared.

,---(*< ~---,
'---------------'
 

Canary opened the door to the interrogation room a good half hour after they had entered, striding out amongst the floor and contemplating what had just occurred. Obviously, nothing was solved. Their prime suspect was now sitting inside that room over there, and Canary had made arrangements for her to be moved to a holding cell for the time being, which Blitz didn't argue against. They were there to ask if they could stay over in the first place, she said, so everything seemed to work out in some funny way.

Outside she saw Berry chatting to Duriandal, casually, almost as if they were friends. But unfortunately that had to end.

"Berry, a minute, please?"

"Sure Sarge, what's up?"

"I don't yet have a complete bead on the situation, but we need to step things into a higher gear. I'm not convinced that Blitz is the culprit, but some parts of her story aren't adding up either. What have you two been talking about on your end?"

"Well I was just chatting with her, Sarge. Apparently after we left from her shop the first day, she sent a letter to that other one to ask for some company because she didn't know anyone else."

"You don't say."

"Yeah, I mean, isn't that sad? No family or anything. She had to rely on a perfect stranger, and she was complaining about how you turned her down when she asked if she could stay, Sarge."

"Yeah, can't do anything about that. Regulations. We aren't a hotel."

"Well, maybe things have changed now?"

"Yeah yeah, you don't have to bargain on her behalf. She's in danger now, or... maybe she's a suspect, I don't know which. Either way, sufficient reason to give her a spot in the cell."

"Alright!" said Berry, cheerfully, happy to help out a fellow pony. "Well also, the reason why she came here was because she saw something, twice."

"Let me guess. Glowing red eye. Funny mouth."

"Yeah, Sarge, exactly right."

"Yeah, that's what Miss Breeze said, too. So if we are to believe them, this character is stalking them. Might be linked to the murders too, we don't know. Anyway, there's one way to find out if Miss Breeze is guilty or not, but we're going to have to call her in."

"Lumi?"

"Yeah. Anyway, in the meantime, I'm going to have them put in a cell. All three of them. Give them cushions and blankets, and whatever else they ask for. Tell them nicely that they're being detained for their safety, and if they ask to be let out tell them it's for their safety that they stay here."

"Got it Sarge. Anything else?"

"Yeah, after you're done, let Silver know we need Lumi, and then go out and investigate the scene at Spiffington. Silver can bring you as well. I'm going to take a nap, because I've been awake nearly 2 days and I really would like to."

"I'm... gonna go myself, Sarge?"

"Yes, you are. Wake me up when you're back."

"A... alright, Sarge!"

"Listen, don't disappoint me, ok? If you need me, I'll be in the gallery."

"Yes ma'am!"

She'd better get a few hours in. Canary was running on fumes now, and as Berry started herding the three ponies to their temporary parking spaces, she allowed herself to let the thoughts drift from her mind.

It wasn't that she didn't care, but that if she constantly thought about it, there was never going to be any sleep for her, no matter how tired she was. It was one of the things that she struggled with, and had to teach herself to do - how to empty her mind, and let everything fade away, but not forget.

She pushed open the door to the viewing gallery, looking through the window at Berry ushering Blitz out of the room and turning off the light. As she was plunged into darkness, she thought about the picture on her desk, the one with her and Berry, and how the photo of their first case now lay within the gift of their first meeting.

There were a lot of firsts in this thought, and she knew it wasn't going to stop there. The first solo investigation by Berry would occur in a few minutes, and she hadn't any inkling of what kind of results there might be. But everything has to start somewhere, and everything had to end somewhere too.

And as she closed her eyes and let the sweeping rush of sleep take her, she realised that it wasn't going to end anytime soon.