Five Days Later
It was shaping up to be another long, hard day at the Foundry for Applejack. Load after load of heavy shipments of parts and supplies needed to be hauled about at all times of the day, as usual. Some containers came in from the Foundry lines and had to be pulled over into designated storage areas; others were being shipped out and needed to be loaded onto vehicles called "trucks"—similar to the buses that Applejack took every morning and evening—so that they could be brought elsewhere in the city.
As she hauled one of these hefty containers, which was loaded with parts intended for the city's military, she passed by a few of the other crew members that were currently awaiting their next assigned loads to haul. There was Shamrock Shake as well as Spangled Star, and a silver-coated, black-maned earth pony stallion named Steel Chaser. The trio noticed her approaching and stepped away so they weren't in her path.
"Hey New Girl, working hard or hardly working?" asked Shamrock with a cheeky grin.
The "New Girl" moniker no longer bothered her one bit. At first she'd thought it demeaning in a way, but now she'd essentially adopted it as her official nickname on the crew. Until somepony else got hired, that was her title to everypony else, and that was just fine by her.
"Hey, Shamrock, Spangled, Steel," Applejack replied; she'd gotten used to the heavier loads by now and was more than capable of walking and talking without issue. "How're y'all doin'?"
The three stallions walked alongside Applejack as she continued pulling, keeping pace such that they didn't pass her by.
"Can't complain," said Shamrock. "A bit slow for us Fives today, so y'know, got nothing much to do until Boss throws me a bone."
"Maybe if ya got off your lazy keister and hit the gym every now 'n' then, you'd make it up to Six."
"Psh, and get saddled with more work? Nah, I like it just fine where I am."
"What's in this load here, New Girl?" asked Spangled as he tapped on the side.
"Bunch o' parts headin' out to the NPAF airfield," Applejack replied.
"Oh yeah, I hear they're working on some new weapon system to get past the barrier at Hope's Point," said Steel.
"They're always working on some new toy to try and get through that thing, but it ain't never gonna happen again. Just a damn waste of time and taxpayer money, I say," huffed Shamrock.
"Hey, watch it," said Spangled, slapping Shamrock's shoulder. "My brother's in the NPAF. It's honest work, and they're protecting us from those dirty pirates."
"Pshaw! You still believe that propaganda shit? What are you, twelve?" Steel chuckled. "They ain't gonna attack us, not with all those big guns we've got on the wall. Nopony's that stupid."
"Not in the open, no, but you know damn well they send all kinds of spies and thieves up here to try and sabotage us and steal all of our secrets and technology. Bunch of no-good pirates, that's what they are."
"Hey New Girl, what do you think?" Shamrock asked. "You think it's all a load of crap, right?"
Applejack grunted. "Y'all know I don't know jack squat about Hope's Point, remember? I ain't from up here in the north. All I know is what I hear from all y'all with all this here water cooler talk, and heck if I understand anything about it."
She was glad to be included in their conversations, though sometimes she wished she knew enough to actually participate. She hated feeling like she was in the dark on things.
"Aww, c'mon, don't be that way," Spangled said. "Even if you don't know much about it, you've gotta have an opinion on it based on what you do know. We're not asking for an essay to put in the paper. This is just between us."
She rolled her eyes. "All I know is that everypony says it's a city full of pirates 'n' thieves, and heck if that don't make no sense to me."
Steel raised an eyebrow. "How do you mean?"
"Well, I reckon pirates 'n' thieves ain't gonna build no city with normal folks livin' in it like they're supposed to do. And y'all're tellin' me they got some kind of Queen runnin' the place? Bunch o' pirates followin' a pirate queen—sounds like pure fantasy bullhonkey ta me."
"See? Even New Girl knows the NPAF is full of shit," Shamrock said, slapping Spangled right back. "Put those tax dollars into some other areas like the schools and hospitals or whatever, and maybe folks would be able to get the help they need."
"Oh, gimme a break, Shamrock, you're just mad they made you pay to find where your damn balls went," Spangled fired back.
"At least I have balls!"
"Guys, guys, get a room," Steel scoffed.
"Shut up, Steel," the other two stallions said in unison.
By the time the conversation finished, Applejack had hauled the container into its designated spot, and unstrapped herself from the harness to let the machinery finish the job of loading it into the confined space out of way. Steel passed her a fresh water bottle.
"Thanks," she said, taking a swig.
"Say, New Girl, the crew's going out to The Salted Rim after work tonight. You in?" asked Shamrock. "I heard they've got some new specials on: two bits for beer, two bits for hay sliders, two bits for cannonball shots."
Applejack smirked. "Shucks, y'all know I don't turn down no hay sliders. I'm in."
Shamrock pumped his hoof. "Aww yeah, looks like we've got ourselves a real crew party tonight!"
Spangled slapped Steel on the back. "Ha, ten bits says Streak tries to outdrink New Girl again."
"Pfft, I ain't taking that bet," Steel chuckled. "I'll be out ten bits and I'll have to make sure that idiot gets home after he makes a damn fool of himself again. No thanks."
"Hey, it's not my fault you two live in the same complex."
The warehouse whistle blew—it always reminded Applejack of a train whistle, but apparently it was just some computer mimicking the sound—which meant that the warehouse was now officially on lunch break. The crew made their way for the lunchroom, which was in a separate, smaller section of the factory shared by all of the warehouses.
Before heading over to the lunchroom, Applejack stopped at the warehouse phone for a moment, just to give a call to Shortcake. She'd learned how these "phone" doohickeys worked and found them utterly fascinating; something like this would sure come in handy back home, especially if she could get a line over to Rainbow's place. Then, she could get weather arrangements taken care of in advance and save them both a lot of time. Not to mention making easier last-minute adjustments to shipping orders and such.
The phone rang twice before Shortcake picked up. "Hello?"
"Hey there, Shortcake, it's AJ."
"Oh, Applejack, hello," Shortcake said, her voice rising with joy; Applejack always enjoyed hearing the other mare's motherly voice. "How's work treating you today?"
"Well I'm gettin' my workout in, I tell ya what. Say, I'm just callin' to let ya know I'm goin' out with the crew for dinner 'n' drinks after work, at The Salted Rim."
"Ah, okay then. I'll make your dinner to-go, like last time. You just take care of yourself when you're out with those stallions though, okay?"
Applejack smiled. "I will."
"I mean it, young lady. Drink responsibly, make sure you've got plenty of water—"
"And always keep my eye on my drink, I know," Applejack chuckled. "I will, I promise."
"Good. I'll let Flathoof know you're going so that he can pick you up afterwards. Have fun, and I hope the rest of your shift goes well!"
"Thanks, Shortcake. Take care now."
"Bye!"
"Bye…"
She then hung up the phone and took a moment to lean against the wall and think. Just hearing the motherly inflection in the older mare's voice was always enjoyable. The fact that this mare that had barely known her for two weeks was treating her like her own daughter was just so… pleasant, like a wave of nostalgia passing over her. Sometimes it was too much and she'd start feeling anxious, but it was always a happy feeling.
She found herself wondering at times if her own mother would act and sound just like Shortcake did, if she were still alive. Would she be telling Applejack to keep an eye on her drinks when she and Rainbow headed out to the Ponyville bar? Would she tell her that Big Mac was gonna come pick her up afterwards? Would she get a good scolding if she came home too late, or too tipsy?
Once she'd taken a moment to breathe and reflect, Applejack grabbed her lunchbox from her locker and went to find a seat at the cafeteria. Once there, she saw that Clay was sitting all by himself today, which was odd since he usually sat with some of the other supervisors. Something was wrong; she could tell.
She walked over to Clay's table and set her lunchbox down, far enough away that she wasn't crowding in on him. "This seat taken?" she asked with a little smile.
Clay, who looked more than a little despondent at that moment, glanced at her lunchbox, then at her, then back to his still-full plate of Dolor-made food, which he lazily picked at with a fork. "Knock yourself out."
She sat down and opened her box, and began digging into her own lunch, all of it made of Dolor products. She and her friends were wary of investing in real foods considering how expensive they were; Applejack had argued for it, but she'd relented in the end when she realized that it meant not being able to afford enough to last them until they left.
Nevertheless, Fluttershy had packed her a respectable meal here: a "sandwich" that would taste like grilled cheese, a thermos with a serving of "tomato soup", and Pinkie had even packed a slice of "blueberry pie". As always, there was bottled water to drink; Applejack at least felt good that that was real, and felt that she'd drank more water in the past two weeks than she ever did back at home. Not having apple juice or cider available did that to you.
All of it tasted just close enough to make Applejack forget for a moment that it wasn't real food, but she was getting desperate for some apples by now; she'd woken up with the sweats a few times, and was starting to fear that she was going through withdrawals. Something about the fact that apples didn't exist but pineapples did just infuriated her to no end, like the world was mocking her.
Once she'd calmed down from her little inner rant, though, she noticed that Clay hadn't touched his food in the entire time they'd been sitting at the table, and that nopony else was bothering to ask if they could sit near him, to the point that other tables around the lunchroom were getting awfully crowded.
She scooted over a little bit in between bites of her food, then a little bit more, until eventually she just went all-in and scooted so that she was right across from him.
"So, uh… enjoyin' your lunch there, Boss?" she asked.
She recognized his plate as containing the Dolor-made "vegetable stew" and some "steamed broccoli" that the cafeteria sold; she'd tried the latter herself once and found that it didn't compare to what Shortcake made. She also knew it was a stupid question, because he hadn't even touched it, just stirred it around into a barely-recognizable mush.
Clay barely even grumbled a response and just kept poking his food without taking a bite. "It's fine."
She raised an eyebrow. "Everythin' alright, Boss? You ain't lookin' so good."
"I'm fine," he grunted, not bothering to look at her. "Just finish your lunch and get back to work."
"Look, I can usually tell when a pony ain't tellin' the truth, and it's obvious as all heck that y'all ain't 'fine'. What's the matter?"
He glowered at her for a moment, then sighed. "You're not gonna leave until I tell you, are you?"
"No sir."
"Why?"
"'Cause you've done good by me these past couple of weeks, given' me this here job 'n' all, and I figure I owe ya a lil' somethin' for that."
"I gave you the job because Stouthoof asked me to."
"Yeah, and Stouthoof's like a…" She paused and gulped. "He's like a father to me. And he's your friend. I figure if there's somethin' eatin' ya, it'd be nice of me to do somethin' nice for his friend, yeah?"
He scoffed. "You're too nice for your own good, New Girl. It's liable to get you in trouble one of these days."
She smiled at that. "If it does, so be it. But I ain't gonna just let somepony stew in their own misery just 'cause I don't wanna rock the boat."
He sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Fine. I'll tell you. I figure by now you know about Thickhoof's injury? The one that crippled him?"
Applejack nodded glumly. "I ain't asked him much about it, but I do know he got it here at work. Stouthoof said that's why y'all kept that spot open on the roster."
"That's right. Well, today's the fourth anniversary of when it happened." Clay shook his head and looked at the opposite wall, a faraway look in his eyes. "I just kinda get… like this, when I remember it. I see the date on my calendar when I wake up and all the memories come back… and it hurts."
"I can't imagine it bein' a pleasant memory…" She took a sip of her water. "So, uh… what exactly happened?"
Clay was silent for a moment, then took a drink of his own water. "Thickhoof and I worked together on the crew four years ago. I wasn't the supervisor yet."
"Huh. Figured with the respect y'all get from everypony that you'd been their boss for a long while now. Ya seem like the kind o' guy that's used to bein' in charge and knows how to do it, and ya say you've only been doin' it for four years?"
"Yeah, just four years. I was on the crew for longer than that, and almost everypony on the current crew was working with me when… when it happened. Shamrock, Hammer, Spangled, all of 'em."
"Well, how'd y'all get the position? Does it… does it have to do with what happened to Thickhoof?"
He nodded. "The supervisor we had then was this little… twirp named Hustle Blaze, a real piece of shit. Put more emphasis on speed than safety. The Foundry's board of investors might have appreciated it—profits are everything, and time is money—but even they know that you can't make money if your crews aren't working 'cause they got hurt."
Applejack arched an eyebrow. "How do ya mean? Everythin' seems mighty safe 'round here, from what I've seen."
"Yeah, that's because I'm actually following the company's safety guidelines, and then some. You've noticed how the only ones that ever operate the loader, or that I even allow to get near one, are Shamrock and Steel?"
"Yeah, I remember y'all givin' me a right earful when I started gawkin' at one on my second day. I figured that's just their job since they're not ranked high enough."
"There's that, and also because they've completed their training courses for using it. It takes four weeks to learn all of the operating procedures to use those things properly, because the courses are spaced out and focused on different aspects of the operation."
"Them things sure do seem useful," Applejack noted. "They can lift things that even Hammer struggles with, and they make it look easy. Been wonderin' why y'all don't got more of 'em."
"Because they're expensive to build and maintain, and they're dangerous when not operated properly, the training courses are time-consuming and expensive, and it all constitutes higher pay for the operators. I'm sure Shamrock and Steel haven't been shy about saying that they make much more money than anypony else on the crew?"
"Naw, they make sure of that a lot," Applejack grunted, knowing that the pair were always quick to throw money around at the bar, and always had top-notch lunches with real food. "And I figure you're tellin' me this 'cause one o' them machines is responsible for what happened to Thickhoof?"
Clay nodded. "Four years ago today, the crew's only loader operator at the time—Shamrock—had called out sick. Caught himself a case of Hoof Rot and was gonna be out for at least a week." He scowled, looking down at his plate. "We had a big shipment we needed to get loaded into the trucks, and that's where the problem started.
"Hustle didn't request a transfer to get another loader operator to our warehouse. It takes time and paperwork to sort it all out, like I said, and Hustle was all about speed, speed, speed," Clay said, emphasizing each "speed" with a slam of his hoof on the table. "Stupid sonuva bitch put our new loader operator, Crimson Heat, on the task.
"Problem was, Crimson hadn't finished his loader training. Crimson knew that. Hustle knew that. We all knew that. But Hustle put him on the loader anyway. 'Time is money,' he said, 'so stop wasting time'." Clay took another gulp of water, and was clutching the bottle like his life depended on it. "I told Crimson to just do it and get it over with, even though he'd objected.
"So, Crimson wasn't aware of the limits on the loader because he hadn't finished those parts of the training. He tried to handle a load that was a little too big, and the loader wasn't moving quickly enough under the weight. That's when Hustle had some of us get some harnesses on and help tug the loader to the truck dock, because time is money.
"And then, just to add insult to injury, I called Thickhoof over to help us out, even though he was just a Four and had no business being anywhere near all that weight." Clay chuckled darkly to himself. "Figure out where this is going, yet?"
Applejack gulped, and nodded. "The loader couldn't handle all that work and somethin' happened."
"Something happened, yeah. The loader's forks snapped off under all the weight, and thousands of pounds of steel came tumbling down on top of us. Two of the boys—Spangled and Steel—got out of the way just fine. I was stuck in the middle and didn't have time to move… but Thickhoof pushed me out of the way." Clay crushed his water bottle between his hooves. "Got his fucking legs crushed for his trouble."
Applejack stared at the crushed water bottle, then leaned back in her seat and let out a breath. "So that's how it happened, huh? And that's why you're like this? 'Cause ya blame yourself?"
"Of course I blame myself," Clay growled. "I'm the only one left to blame. Hustle got transferred to another crew that wouldn't be using loaders at all, but his blame-passing ass didn't even get a dock in pay from the whole ordeal. He passed all of the blame onto Crimson, who naturally got fired for ruining company equipment; the poor kid was just doing what I told him to do…"
"Ya can't blame yourself for all o' that, Clay," Applejack said, leaning forward. "It was an accident. Accidents happen."
"It was a mistake, and mistakes happen when ponies are irresponsible and stupid. I made a mistake, and it cost Thickhoof his legs. He saved my life and lost his entire livelihood because of it, and what do I get? A fucking promotion."
"Really?"
Clay scoffed. "Yeah, really. I was the most senior member of the crew, so when Hustle got transferred, they bumped me up to the supervisor spot. Hooray for me."
"Hey, c'mon now, that ain't your fault neither. Look, I get that some bad stuff went down that day, but it ain't your fault. I know that Stouthoof 'n' Thickhoof don't hold no grudge against ya."
"Well, maybe they should."
"Cut the crap, Clay," Applejack snorted, slapping her hoof on the table. "You know you ain't a bad pony, and ya know that it was an accident, that's all. Blame that ol' supervisor of yours for puttin' your crew at risk just to save some bits, but don't blame yourself 'cause ya tried to motivate the fella what got put into that position, and don't blame yourself for askin' Thickhoof for help.
"Ya done got promoted after what happened? Good. 'Cause from what I've seen, y'all take good care of this here crew. They all look at ya with respect, they work their butts off to impress ya, and dagnabbit, I think they might actually like ya, even if you're a real hard-ass. I sure as hay respect ya, 'cause you've treated me right.
"So fine, feel sorry about what happened. The whole situation's real ugly, I get that. But this ain't the right way to go about rememberin' what happened." She put her hoof on his shoulder. "Have ya ever even talked to Thickhoof since the accident?"
Clay shook his head. "What makes you think he'd even want to talk to me after—"
"'Cause from how I've seen ya treat your crew and how they look up to ya, I bet he looked up to ya too. If ya wanna make up for what happened to him, stop feelin' sorry for him and blamin' yourself. Talk to him about it. I'm sure that'd mean the world to him."
"What makes you so sure?"
"'Cause I know him, an' I know you." Applejack gestured at her own eyes. "You look me in the eye and you tell me I ain't tellin' the honest truth."
Clay met her gaze and stayed silent for a long moment, then gave a weak nod. "Maybe you're right…"
"'Course I am. If I ain't the most honest pony there is, I'll eat my hat."
"I'll hold you to that. The hard hat, too; the plastic will be harder to chew."
Clay then glanced around the cafeteria, which made AJ do the same; the other crews had all cleared out by now; their lunch break was supposed to be over, and the clock on the far wall indicated that it had been for the past five minutes.
He grunted, then picked up and threw away his plate of still-untouched food. "Alright, time to get back to work before anypony notices we're late. I don't need the board supervisor riding me because your lazy ass decided to take a long lunch break."
Applejack smirked and packed up her lunchbox. "I'll get right back to it, sir."
As she started to walk away, Clay called, "Oh, and Applejack?"
She turned. "Yeah?"
"Thanks."
She smiled. "Don't mention it. The crew might think you've gone soft."
*****
It was just before lunchtime when Flathoof arrived at the eighty-fourth floor of Southeast Point, dressed in his civilian clothes—a plain white shirt under a blue denim jacket—because today was his day off. He didn't get many—not even once a week, actually—so he made use of them whenever he had the chance. He gave a brisk knock on the door of the familiar apartment, and wasn't surprised at all when it was Fluttershy who answered.
"Hello there, Fluttershy," he said, giving her a polite smile and a nod.
"Oh, hello Flathoof," she replied with a smile of her own. "What brings you here today?"
"Well, it's my day off, and usually I like to take the time to enjoy myself during the day, and maybe spend some time with friends that I don't see that often. Usually that means Lockwood, but wouldn't you know it, he's got other plans. Typical."
Fluttershy gave him a knowing smile. "You mean getting ready for Rarity's show, I take it?"
"Of all the days in the world for it to fall on, right?" Flathoof chuckled. "But hey, no hard feelings about it. I know he's doing it to show support to all of his friends that'll be there. I'm surprised you're not going yourself, actually."
"Oh, it's alright. He was only able to get the one invitation, and it was specifically for him. Rarity might be my friend, but Lockwood is her friend too, and he's friends with the owners of her label. He should be the one going."
Flathoof tapped his chin. "Y'know, it's been a while since I've seen him putting that much effort into his appearance. Last time he dressed up like that was for when I graduated from the academy. Never seen him comb his hair all fancy-like, though."
Fluttershy's cheeks reddened a little. "He, um… he asked me to help style his mane. W-well, I offered, I mean. This showcase he's going to is very well-to-do, and he said that he had to make sure he looked his best to show his support for Rarity."
"Is that so?"
"Y-yes, and, um… to make sure that his tuxedo was all in order and everything." Her cheeks reddened more. "He looks very handsome in a tuxedo."
Flathoof grinned. "That he does. He'd probably look better if he put on some weight to fill it out a little bit."
"I think he looks great as he is." Her face was redder than Flathoof's coat at this point. "So, um… wh-what brings you up here? I think we got a little sidetracked…"
"Oh, right. Well, I would've done it with or without Lockwood, but I was going to see if you or any of your friends might want to join me for lunch. I don't know who's here other than you; I think everypony else is at work?"
"That's right," Fluttershy said with a nod. "It's just me and Gray, actually. We're just hanging out here for a little while before we go pick up Pinkie and Velvet, then we're all going to see Rainbow's skyball game tonight and cheer her on. And Havoc too, of course."
"Well then, we've got some time, I think. Would you two like to join me for lunch?" he asked.
"I wouldn't mind at all. We were just going to have something here, but Gray never turns down a free lunch. Let me just ask her, okay?"
Fluttershy then headed back into the apartment and returned a moment later with Gray in tow. Flathoof hadn't seen the bigger mare since the incident with Applejack, and it was actually nice to see her again. He still didn't think he'd thanked her enough for what she'd done for his family, but she'd told him to stop.
He gave her a little nod, which she returned. "Gray, a pleasure to see you again."
"Hey," she said, dipping her head slightly. "Shy says you wanna take us out for lunch or something?"
"That's right, my treat."
"Cool, free lunch sounds nice."
"Told you," Fluttershy said, giving Flathoof a little wink.
"So, where to? Your place?"
"No, that's a bit far," Flathoof said, raising an eyebrow. "Why?"
Gray shrugged. "Your mom's cooking is pretty good. Y'know, for synthetic stuff."
"Oh. Well, I'll tell her you said that. But no, I know a little sandwich place down the way that uses real bread," he said with a smile. "I don't know if you've ever tried a legit PB&J before, but they make one that's just out of this world. Can't replicate that taste with Dolor products just yet."
"Sounds good." She tilted her head at Shy. "Shall we?"
Fluttershy smiled and nodded. "Yes, this sounds fun!"
*****
Fluttershy nibbled lightly on her sandwich—the restaurant had a legitimate chickpea salad sandwich on the menu, which sounded and indeed was delicious—while she listened intently to Flathoof as he chatted with her and Gray about how things were going at the precinct. It was a question Gray had asked him actually; Fluttershy was surprised that her friend was taking an interest, but considering what happened the other day, it made sense.
"It's been better," Flathoof sighed, finishing a bite of his PB&J and washing it down with water—Fluttershy pitied him not being able to use milk. "I'll be honest, these past couple of weeks have been full of highs and lows, but mostly lows."
"Why's that?" Gray asked, taking a bite of her own PB&J.
"Well… it's been almost two weeks now, and nopony's been able to find out anything about Snapshot. Where she is, what she's doing, how she's doing; nothing." He leaned back in his seat and shook his head. "Nopony's able to confirm for sure that there was even a CIA agent in the building the day that she was last seen. All I've got is an unreliable report from another clerk."
"I hope she's okay…" Fluttershy murmured.
Flathoof had mentioned Snapshot multiple times since her disappearance; she and her friends were all legitimately concerned, seeing as the mare had been a big help in getting them situated. Apart from him, though, they all just continued about their days and hardly ever asked him about her. It wasn't that nopony cared, far from it, but it was just… out of their purview.
"I wish I could say she was," Flathoof said, closing his eyes. "It wouldn't be so bad, y'know, if anypony else at the precinct at least acted like they cared at all. The Chief already transferred in a replacement, and that just… that just made me feel like it doesn't matter anymore…"
"Didn't you say that cadet of yours cared?" Gray asked. "What was his name, Gumshoe?"
Flathoof snorted. "That's the worst part. He did. He actually offered to help me, but we both knew he couldn't; he's just a cadet. Was just a cadet. I'm absolutely livid that he got suspended because of what that thug said about him. Bunch of he-said, she-said crap."
Gray frowned. "I'm sorry. I realize that that's probably my fault."
"You were acting in defense of somepony being attacked and subduing the suspect until authorities arrived," Flathoof said in a practiced tone, as though he'd said it before. "Believe me, I don't blame you. The only thing that should've happened is that at worst, that crook would've maybe sued you for medical costs."
"Smart move, though, pinning it on Gumshoe," Gray grumbled. "Got him out of jail, didn't it?"
"Yeah, and the last I've heard of it he's gone off the grid. And wouldn't you know it, nopony cares about that either." Flathoof shook his head.
"Are you surprised?"
He paused for a moment. "I've been thinking for the past couple of years that there was something wrong with the NPPD. They're just not the servants and protectors of the public I always believed they were.
"I thought maybe it would just take a few good cops to turn things around. And I was wrong. One good cop went missing, and they didn't even bat an eye. They just pay lip service to an investigation that isn't going anywhere. Another good cop did his duty with stars in his eyes and a dream of being on the force, and he got thrown under the bus when it suited them."
Flathoof then leaned back in his seat again, hoof over his mouth in thought, but said nothing more.
Fluttershy put her hoof on his shoulder. "I know you cared about Snapshot a lot, Flathoof. She was more than just a friend to you, wasn't she?"
Flathoof shook his head weakly. "I don't know. That's the problem: I don't know."
"How did you two get to be friends in the first place?" Gray asked, drinking down some water. "With the way you talk about the force, not a lot of officers make friends with one another. More like a bunch rats that'd sell each other out to save their own skins."
"You're not far off," he scoffed. "Snapshot and I met at the academy. We were in part of the same cadet squad, and we just kind of… hit it off. Like I did with Lockwood, I guess. I figured she'd make a good friend, just like he was, because she needed somepony to look out for her, and… well, I was just used to that by then.
"She could barely make it through the physical courses," he chuckled, "but she excelled at the investigative courses. I helped her a bit with passing the physical exams so that she could graduate, and she helped me with some of the paperwork that I was having trouble with.
"I knew she was having trouble with her family," he said, his smile turning sad. "So even after graduating, I'd invite her over to spend time with my family when things were tough for her. Y'know, things like holidays, birthdays, you name it. They all loved her. Especially my brother—Thickhoof, not Lockwood," he added.
"You think they had a thing for each other?" Gray asked.
"Again, I don't know. It never went anywhere because, well… all this happened." He chuckled and smoothed back his mane. "My mom thought she had a thing for me, actually, but I dunno, I doubt it. She seemed a better fit for somepony smarter, and Thickhoof's as sharp as a whip." He frowned. "He has to be. All he can do these days is read and learn."
Fluttershy set her hoof on Flathoof's back, scooting a little closer to have a better angle. "I'm sorry, Flathoof. Wherever she is, I'm sure she's got to know you're doing everything you can."
"Am I, though?" he muttered. "Every lead I've tried has dried up. I've just sort of… resigned myself to never seeing her again. And I hate myself for it." He shook his head. "Sorry. I… I invited you guys out to have a good time, not to listen to me beat myself up over this."
"It's okay," Fluttershy said as sweetly as she could manage. "Sometimes, you've got to let that stuff out. It's better that you talk about it than just let it eat you up inside, right?"
"I suppose it is." He looked between the two. "So, uh… let's change the subject, shall we? You guys know all about my family at this point, if not from me then from AJ, but I hardly know anything about yours, Fluttershy. I suppose it's because we don't really spend much time together. At least I know a little about Gray and her sisters from all of you."
Fluttershy chuckled. "Well, there's not much to say about my parents, really. I love them very much, and they're just the sweetest parents a pony could ask for. My dad worked for the weather team where I'm from, and my mom is a gardener."
She elected not to mention Cloudsdale's weather factory. That would take too much of an explanation, and Gray—who was unaware of where she was really from—would likely find it odd or suspicious and start asking all sorts of questions; she knew Gray enough by now to expect it.
"Any siblings?" Flathoof asked.
"Just my younger brother, Zephyr," Fluttershy muttered. "He and I have a… strained relationship."
"Is it alright if I ask why?"
She sighed. "It's fine. He's just… he takes advantage of my parents. He can't ever seem to hold a steady job, so he's constantly moving back in with them until he goes off on another half-baked idea of his, then moves back in again when that falls through. He's been doing it for years and it just… it upsets me…"
"Not everypony can have a great relationship with their families," Flathoof said with a knowing, sad grin. "I hope things work out better for you, though."
"I do too, but… well, my hooves are crossed that one day he'll change, but I'm not exactly holding my breath…"
"Eh, not everypony knows how to be a proper slacker," Gray said without the slightest hint of irony. "It takes effort to be lazy, y'know? If you're bad at it, everypony just gets mad at you for doing it."
"Speaking from experience?" Flathoof chuckled.
"Kinda. I wasn't as good at it when I was a filly. My sisters used to complain that I'd just take naps when I was supposed to be helping with chores." She then paused, her expression becoming confused. "At least… I think that's how it happened. Right?"
Fluttershy arched an eyebrow. "Hmm? You don't remember?"
"I thought I did. I know that's how I was as a filly, but I'm having trouble remembering a specific instance." Gray shook her head. "Whatever. It's not important. I'm just saying, if your brother was anything like me, you and your parents wouldn't have a problem with him."
"Oh, Gray… don't compare yourself to my brother, please?" Fluttershy pleaded. "You're not lazy. You're very dedicated to your family, and I know you help them whenever and however you can."
Gray half-heartedly gestured at Fluttershy with her sandwich. "Are you trying to butter me up, Shy?"
Fluttershy's cheeks felt hot. "Wh-what? N-no! I'm just saying—"
"It's alright, I'm just teasing ya."
"Oh… r-right…" She wished she had the confidence to say something more, anything more.
"I don't actually know a lot about you or your sisters either, to be honest," Flathoof said, looking at Gray with a smile. "Just a few little details I've picked up over a few weeks listening to Fluttershy and her friends talk about them."
Gray leaned back in her seat, a cocky grin on her face. "You're the cop. Figure it out yourself."
"That's detective work; I was a beat cop before making Sergeant, and it's not like I had to start doing it to make Captain," Flathoof said matter-of-factly. "So if you want me to act like a cop, I guess I could read you your rights and slap some hoofcuffs on your or something."
"You'd want to talk to Red about that. She might be interested." She eyed Flathoof up and down briefly. "You're just my— her type, actually: muscular. You filled out that police uniform pretty well, from what I remember."
"Red's… Pinkie's friend, right?" he asked, glancing at Fluttershy. "Pinkie said she was the flirtatious type."
"See? You can do detective work just fine," Gray snickered. "And 'flirtatious' is completely the wrong word. More like… promiscuous. It's so bad that I imposed a rule in our apartment that we can't bring guys home, period, mostly so that she won't."
"But you two still get along?"
"I guess? I mean, we argue a lot—mostly about the rule—but it's not really a big deal."
"I'm assuming your other sister, Insipid, doesn't like the rule either?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"
"Well, you said it was your rule, right? I'm willing to bet that means you were worried that Insipid would try it too so it's really like killing…" He glanced at Fluttershy, who just gave him a knowing look; he knew better than to use that metaphor. "Er… it's like a two-for-one sale."
Gray paled slightly. "I actually never even thought of that. Oh wow, I can't even imagine what kind of guy Insipid would even bring home if she was allowed." She shook her head. "But yeah, she complained too, but that was just because Red wanted something and Insipid usually whines because if somepony wants something, she wants it too, even if she doesn't know what it is."
"Insipid's the one that's in Rarity's fashion show tonight, right? She's the model?"
"Oh yes, and she's very pretty," Fluttershy said. "If you ever look through some of the fashion magazines, they've taken pictures of the showcases, and she's in quite a few of them. Rarity's dresses look great on her."
"And Red and I are very proud of her," Gray said flatly.
"Well, you sound like you've got a pretty good relationship with your family," Flathoof said with a grin.
"Eh, mostly. I don't talk with my other sisters that often. We're a big family, but they've got their own lives and careers to worry about. They don't have time for the three of us that often. Havoc showing up with Dash the other day was just a bizarre fluke. But hey, I'm glad you guys got to meet her."
"Well, at least it's because they're out there being successful," Fluttershy murmured, shaking her head.
"Hey, it's not all peaches and cream," Flathoof said. "Lockwood's my brother too, legally speaking, and as much as I love the dope, he's just as quick to embarrass me as he is to be of any kind of help, and he definitely does it on purpose."
"Ooh, there's a story there," Gray said, taking a sip of water. "Spill."
"It's, uh… it's a bit awkward," Flathoof said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not sure it's appropriate to tell in front of a couple of mares."
Gray smirked. "Oh, now you have to tell us."
Fluttershy nodded in agreement, if only because Gray wanted to hear it. "It sounds like it might be a funny story. After all we've been talking about, I think a good, funny story would really help us finish off lunch right, don't you?"
"Well, when you put it like that…" Flathoof murmured. "Fine."
Gray gestured for him to continue.
"Okay, so… when I graduated from the academy, Lockwood threw a big party to celebrate, and invited a bunch of the other cadets—stallions only—from my squad. He also invited my dad and Thickhoof. So, our big bunch of stallions is out for a great time at this little bar that Lockwood had heard about, right? I forget the name."
"With you so far."
"Well, then they wheeled out the cake to celebrate the occasion. It was… a very big cake." Flathoof then hung his head. "Since I was sober, I figured out what was happening, and looking back I can't say that I was surprised when strippers jumped out of the cake. Twin sisters, actually. Good-looking mares. Very good dancers."
"Huh. Neat, but not super embarrassing."
Fluttershy was just barely following along at this point. She understood most of the situation being explained so far, but she wasn't totally clear on what a "stripper" was. She had a vague understanding considering the context that they were probably lewd dancers—the word "strip" suggested that clothing was removed—so Fluttershy found herself strangely invested in the story now.
"Well, it wasn't that bad, at least until the twins kind of not-so-subtly hinted that they'd always wanted to try…" He paused, then cleared his throat. "Well, let's just say that I felt a little awkward calling Lockwood 'brother' for a while after that party, and leave it at that, shall we?"
Gray blinked, then just burst out laughing without warning. Fluttershy was at a loss as to what was so funny—what in the world did those sisters ask?—but seeing Gray having such a good laugh made her own heart flutter a bit, and so she joined in too, giggling into her hoof. Flathoof apparently wasn't bothered that his embarrassment was the butt of some joke, because even he joined in.
It was the most fun Fluttershy had had in days.
*****
Late that night, well after dinner time, Flathoof arrived at a little dive bar called The Salted Rim about six blocks from his house. He glanced at the neon sign over the entrance, which showed a glowing blue cup with a flashing white rim and a green, lime-shaped wedge. It still amazed him that of all the authentic ingredients used in the city, it was the bars and pubs that were the largest buyers.
Flathoof entered through the classic tavern-like doors to see that the crowd was rather lively, with plenty of customers seated at tables all around the establishment and at the bar. A jukebox in the corner played some dance music at the moment, though luckily nopony was dancing to it. Cute waitresses in short skirts served up drinks and snacks to the customers, ignoring leers from some patrons that still seemed sober enough to have the capability.
Finding Applejack wasn't hard. It wasn't just that her stetson stood out in a crowd of ponies that didn't wear that kind of headwear, it was more that she was the only mare in the room that wasn't serving drinks; this bar had a reputation for catering to the Foundry workers, already a primarily stallion-centric crowd, so that was unsurprising.
He strode over to the table, where the warehouse crew that Applejack worked with were just finishing up another round of beers together, clinking glasses before chugging them down and letting out whoops of enthusiasm. Everypony seemed to be having a good time, and if Flathoof didn't have to get Applejack home he would've just turned around and let them continue on like that, but his mother would kill him—this was not an exaggeration—if he did.
He stepped right up behind Applejack and put a hoof on her chair, clearing his throat to get their attention. "Alright, everypony, sorry to break it up, but I've gotta take Applejack home now."
Of the table of twelve stallions—plus Applejack to make thirteen—all twelve leveled him with some of the hardest glares he'd ever seen, and a few of them had even gotten up out of their seats. Flathoof could see that they were of varying stages of inebriation, sure, but apparently all just sober enough to hear what he'd said and register that he was there.
But they were too drunk to really comprehend what he'd said or recognize him, apparently.
"What'd you say?" said the green one, who Flathoof guessed was Shamrock Shake; he'd never met the crew before, but Thickhoof and Applejack talked about them enough that he could put names to faces.
"You got some nerve, punk," said the big yellow stallion, Hammer. "Who do you think you are, huh?"
Flathoof wasn't easily intimidated, but Hammer was… big. And slightly drunk, which could be either a good thing or a bad thing. "Guys, hey, let's all relax a second—"
"No no no no, buddy, you relax," slurred a blue stallion, Blue Streak. "Nopony comes after our New Girl without going through us. You can just… fuck off." For emphasis, he poked his hoof in Flathoof's chest once, twice, three times, then just left his hoof there in a weak sort of lean.
Flathoof just stared at the other stallion's hoof on his chest a moment, then at Streak. "Please take your hoof off of me," he said calmly, but with a hard look in his eyes.
"Or what?" garbled the red stallion, Spangled Star. "What are you gonna do, huh? You bad at math? There's..." He counted off each of the stallions in the group. "Twenty of us, and three of you."
Flathoof looked around the group and realized that perhaps he'd come at a bad time.
Then, Applejack finally seemed to realize something was going on behind her, and turned to look up at Flathoof. "Heyyy! Flathoof!"
If it was possible for tension in a room to evaporate faster than it just did, Flathoof had never seen it. Frowns, glares, and tense muscles all relaxed into smiles, laughs, and cheers.
"Oh, hey! It's Forepony Stouthoof's eldest son!" called Shamrock, so drunk that he'd apparently slipped into eloquence. "Didn't recognize him out of uniform."
"Never thought we'd see you around a bar, buddy boy," slurred Spangled, patting Flathoof's shoulder haphazardly and nearly losing his balance. "What're you doing here?"
"I'm here to take Applejack home," Flathoof said flatly.
Streak, whose hoof was still on Flathoof's chest, lazily poked him again. "Oh yeah? You and what army?"
Hammer pulled Streak away and sat him back down. "Easy there, Prince Charming. Don't hurt yourself."
Applejack lazily turned her head back to the others. "Well boys, guess my escort's here. I'll see y'all tomorrow, yeah?"
"Yeah, see you tomorrow, New Girl," called Shamrock. "Sleep tight!"
"And don't let them bedbugs bite, yeah yeah." She got up and clapped her hoof on Flathoof's shoulder. "Alright, Cap, let's mosey."
He chuckled, then nodded to the rest of the crew. "Gentlecolts, enjoy your evening. Thanks for keeping an eye on her."
"Us? Shit, we were just trying to keep you from losing some teeth," chuckled Spangled. "If you were trying to pick up on New Girl, she'd have clocked you good."
"Then thank you for saving me a trip to the dentist," Flathoof replied with a grin.
He left to a roar of laughter, and led Applejack out of the bar and into the street so that the pair could start their walk home. Well, more that he started the walk home, while she more accurately staggered her way along at his side. This wasn't the first time he'd taken her home like this—the crew had invited her out a few days ago—so he wasn't surprised by how she was acting, nor was he embarrassed or judgemental.
"Looks like you had a good time tonight," he said as they rounded a corner, though he had to make sure she rounded it with him.
"Mhmm, sure did," she said, a little breathless. "S'all good, though, I know how to hold my booze. I ain't no quitter."
"Eyyup, I can see that. You're sure you're gonna be alright in the morning?"
She nearly tripped in her attempt to dismiss his concern. "Pssh. Y'all worry too much, Big Mac. I'll be fine."
He raised an eyebrow. "Big Mac?"
"What're you, a parrot all of a sudden?" she chuckled. "Don't you worry none, Mac, I'll be right as rain come mornin', then we can get to work on the orchard. I reckon we'll be done by sundown." A quick glance around her made her stumble. "Say, does Ponyville look a bit weird tonight? They decoratin' for Nightmare Night early?"
He wanted to correct her, or say anything really, but she just seemed so convinced of what she was saying that he didn't have the heart. It wasn't amusing to see her like this, by any stretch, but he'd dealt with enough inebriated ponies over the years of police work that he knew it was best to just let her ride it out until they got home.
Besides, it felt kind of nice having another pony consider him their big brother.
When they arrived at his house, Flathoof took her inside as carefully as possible, one step at a time.
"Golly, there's more steps than I remember," Applejack muttered as he took her into the living room.
He led her into the hallway that led towards the guest room, and showed her inside without much fuss. She sort of staggered over to the bed as soon as she saw it, landing right on it with all the grace of a sack of bricks. She clamored her way up to the pillows and just rested there a moment, mumbling and grumbling something under her breath that he couldn't hear.
With a sigh, he stepped over to the bed and removed her hat, setting it on the nearby hat hook for her so she wouldn't ruin it. Applejack was so far gone at this point that he knew she'd be waking up with a hangover of epic proportions, and though it didn't bring him any joy at the moment, it would in the morning. His mother was going to absolutely torture this poor mare.
"You're sure you're gonna be alright?” he asked.
"Mhmm… thanks big bro," she muttered. "G'night…”
Flathoof smiled, though she couldn't see it with her head buried in the pillows. "Good night, sis.”
With that, he turned out the light and headed for the door, giving one last look inside at Applejack's sleeping form before closing it behind him.