//------------------------------//
// Chapter 8 - Swing Partners 
// Story: A Dance With Death 
// by Dee Pad 
//------------------------------//

Limbo impatiently paced back and forth in her apartment, taking another swig of her coffee.  Samba had yet to arrive, and she was eager to discuss the new developments in the Ghost case with her.  The incident at the Magi-Tech Expo was a couple of days ago now, and Limbo hasn't been able to properly investigate due to town hall being closed for the weekend.  As such, Limbo decided to give Samba the weekend off until they could get back at it on Monday.

Unfortunately, it seemed as thought the time off was messing with Samba's internal clock, as she was running a tad late, only serving to exacerbate Limbo's impatience.  Her frantic pacing was starting to make Webber dizzy, the spider just silently watching her walk around with his eight beady eyes.

The sound of the kettle whistling caused Limbo to pause.  She trotted over to turn off the burner, though at this point she expected she may have to turn it back on again in a few minutes.  This was the third time she'd boiled the water ahead of time for Samba, but her assistant hadn't shown up to pour her tea yet.

She was starting to worry about her.  Samba wasn't always the most punctual pony, but in the week or so that they'd been working together, she'd rarely been this late.  Had she been beset upon by her stalker again when she was walking home last night?  Maybe the Ghost has targeted her knowing now that she worked with Limbo.  In either case, Limbo would feel responsible if something like that happened to her.

Limbo was about to head for the door and run over to Samba's apartment to check up on her, but as she reached for the door handle, it opened on its own.

Samba just walked in rather lethargically, like being a half an hour late was no big deal.

"Oh, there you are," Limbo said, forcing a stern look, but internally breathing a sigh of relief.  "What took so long?"

Samba looked her in the eye only momentarily, then turned away and walked to the kitchen to prepare her tea.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that something was up, least of all a detective.  Limbo was more than used to picking up on weird stuff like this, but Samba wasn't some criminal she needed to probe for information.  Whatever was on her mind wasn't necessarily her business, but she wanted to see if she could help regardless.

"I get the impression something's wrong.  Wanna share?"

Samba sighed as she listlessly stirred her tea.  "It's... nothing."  Realizing that she certainly didn't make it sound like nothing, she straightened up, repeating herself with a little more energy.  "I mean, really, it's nothing serious.  You don't have to worry about it."

Limbo didn't believe that for a second, but decided it might not be a good idea to press the issue.  She shrugged dismissively.  "Alright, whatever you say."

Samba took a sip of her tea, glancing between the kettle and Limbo.  "You turned on the kettle for me?"

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to be late," Limbo answered tersely, though if she could still blush, her cheeks might have been a little red.  "I was just trying to save time for when you did show up, that's all."

A small smile creased Samba's lips.  "Oh.  Well, thanks," she said, taking another small sip.

Limbo flashed an eager grin.  "So, all rested and refreshed after your time off?  Ready to put your nose to the street and catch the Ghost?"

Any enthusiasm Samba had quickly drained.  "Oh, uh...  Sure, I guess."

Limbo cocked an eyebrow at the odd response, noticing Samba attempting to stifle a yawn, but decided again to let it go.  "Oookay...  Anyway, we really need to start making some headway.  Owl and the B.P.D. have a head start on us since they've got a little more authority than I do, while I've mostly just been here twiddling my hooves over the weekend.  We still need to head down to town hall and see if we can dig up anything on suspicious changelings in the city.  It would also be nice if we could get access to Mango Inc. headquarters, but that's a longshot."

"Have you figured anything out since the expo at all?"

Limbo scratched her head.  "I've been going over it all weekend, even discussing some stuff with Owl, but I haven't really come up with anything new.  All we know is that the Ghost has that stupidly-named thing that Career invented, which means we can assume the Ghost now has access to all the spells known by their victims.  That makes them extremely dangerous."

"What if they don't agree to log their spells into the Spellmet?"

"Let me ask you this: if you were in their position, would you be willing to die to prevent the Ghost from learning a powerful spell you knew?  Because I have little doubt that the Ghost is threatening them with death."

Samba's ears drooped, admittedly feeling a little ashamed that she probably would cave in that situation if it meant her life would be spared.

"The only one I'm confident they can't break is Poe.  Poe is way too stubborn to reveal anything about the necromancy spell, evidenced by the fact that the Ghost apparently didn't know how to kill a zombie.  I mean, come on.  Has the Ghost never seen a zombie flick?  Attack the brain, dur.  It's necromancy, not rocket science."

"Didn't you get on my case for stereotyping zombies?"

Limbo flicked a hoof dismissively.  "Stereotypes are steeped in truth.  Although, it's possible that Poe could be feeding them lies too," she tittered.  "Ha, that'd be so like her.  Got a knife to her throat and she's making 'Your mom' jokes.  She's such a goober."  Her mirth died down a little.  "It might very well have gotten her killed already."

While there was certainly a hint of worry on Limbo's face, Samba could still see her fond smile shining through.  "You don't seem too broken up over that possibility."

"Well, we don't know for sure yet.  Until I'm absolutely sure, I have to operate on the assumption that she is dead.  It'll make it easier to accept that now if it turns out to be true.  After all, I can't afford to slow down while there're still other people's lives on the line."

Once more, Samba found herself admiring Limbo's dedication and selflessness.  She had already accepted the fact that her best friend might be dead, but she soldiered on for the sake of everypony else.  Samba could only hope that some of that altruism had rubbed off on her in the short time she'd known Limbo.

Limbo wandered over to her cork board, looking over the map of Balitmare and the photos pinned to it.  "So, the Ghost now has access to a variety of useful spells, which means they have more tools at their disposal to potentially make future abductions easier.  Presumably, though, they need to be wearing Career's invention to use them, so even if they are a changeling, they'd have to be wearing that eyesore to make use of those appropriated spells.  So they'll still have to be discreet, which is good, I suppose.  People might not disappear at an increased rate because of this.  Still, something is bothering me.  Obviously the heist at the expo was premeditated, but the whole thing went off too well in the Ghost's favor, if you ask me.  It was almost like they knew I was going to be there somehow.  Hmm...  So first there was Wick Nimble, which was an odd move by the Ghost to recruit a scapegoat.  Then the whole distraction with the copy at the convention.  I wonder if their intention the whole time was to make us think that the Ghost works for Mango Inc., throwing us off the scent and sending us on a wild goose chase while they just go about business as usual.  Hrm...  If the Ghost's plan was to make me second guess myself, it's starting to work.  But, I mean, they had to have prior knowledge of Career's invention to make this happen, right?  And who else would have that kind of info but somepony inside Mango Inc.?  What do you think, Samba?  Any input at all?"

Limbo turned around to her assistant, but found her just standing there, eyes already halfway to drifting shut her cup of tea dangerously close to spilling over.

"Samba."

The unicorn's head jerked up, her eyes flying open again and a drop of tea splashing from her mug and onto the floor.  "Huh?  Oh, uh, what'd you say?"

Limbo exchanged glances with Webber for a moment, the spider looked just as uncertain as she was.  "You feeling okay today, Samba?"

"Oh, yeah, fine.  Just..."  She laboriously stifled a rather large yawn.  "...didn't get a lot of sleep last night, that's all."

Limbo narrowed her eye skeptically.  "No, no, something's definitely up with you.  This ain't your run-of-the-mill lethargy."

Samba inched back, breaking eye contact.  "Wh-What do you mean?"

The detective stepped closer, eliciting a nervous gulp from Samba.  "I didn't become a detective without being able to see through people's lies.  And I can't have a distracted assistant.  You're gonna tell me what's up."

Samba's ears drooped.  She looked away remorsefully.  "I... didn't really take the weekend off."

Limbo tilted her head.  "Heh?"

"I... went back to work at The Brewery."

"Huh?  Why?"

"What do you mean, 'why'?"

"I thought you wanted to work with me," Limbo said, some hurt in her expression.  "You know, trying to do something meaningful, improving your self-image, all that jazz."

"Limbo, I didn't quit my job.  I took some time off, remember?  I was always going to go back.  Maybe this is a little sooner than I originally planned, but I've got to get back to reality eventually."

Limbo visually deflated at this news, looking like she just got punched in the gut.  "So you'd rather dance in front of a bunch of drunks than help me save people's lives?"

"This isn't about what I could do, it's about what I can do," Samba replied defensively.  "I'm good at dancing.  It's something I can do for a living and get by.  Here, I'm kinda just playing house.  Have I enjoyed my time here?  Yeah, but it's not like I can just drop everything to become a detective's assistant.  Rhapsody has a point: I need to grow up, so I'm going back to work."

"Then... why'd you come here this morning?" Limbo asked quietly.

Samba hesitated, a slight tinge of red in her cheeks.  "I guess I felt like I owed you a goodbye, but I wasn't sure how to break the news to you.  I kinda lost my nerve once I got here."

Limbo's own ears dropped a little.  "Oh...  So, what?  That's it then?  We're done?"

"I mean, I still consider you a friend, and I owe you my life for saving me from that guy.  We can... still hang out and stuff.  You know, if you're not too busy with your investigations."  Samba managed a smile, though it was a little forced.  "It's not like I haven't learned anything working with you.  I think I have a bit more confidence in myself now, so maybe I can manage on my own from here.  After all, my biggest problem has always been my dependency on other people, so this is probably the healthiest thing for me.  You understand, right?"

Limbo just blinked slowly as she processed this information.  "Uh...  Yeah, I guess..."

Samba awkwardly glanced around.  "So, uh...  You seem like you're pretty deep in the Ghost thing right now, so I guess I'll, you know... let you get back to it.  Don't want to slow you down or anything."

Limbo said nothing.

Samba turned to the desk, where Webber had been since she'd arrived.  She wandered over and held out her hoof with only slight trepidation.  Limbo watched in silence as Webber crawled slowly onto Samba's hoof.

"It's definitely been interesting working here, even if it's only been a week.  Never thought I'd make friends with a spider," Samba chuckled, her smile a touch shaky and her hoof trembling just a tiny bit as Webber stood upon it.  She looked back at Limbo.  "And especially not a zombie.  Oh, and don't worry, I'll still keep your secret close to my chest."

"Good to know..." Limbo uttered listlessly.

Samba let Webber back onto the desk, then finished her mug of tea and started toward the door.  "I'll... see you guys later, I guess."

"Sure...  Uh, don't be a stranger, okay?" Limbo told her with only a hint of desperation.  "You can visit whenever.  I don't need to sleep, so I'm available at anytime if you need to talk or whatever.  And Webber doesn't really offer any intellectual conversation, so it'd be nice to have somepony to talk to every now and then."

Samba offered a genuine smile.  "I'll stop by if I get the chance."

Limbo took another step forward.  "Oh, and I'll send you a paycheck for your time."

"I appreciate that."

Limbo took another step.  "And I'll one hundred percent catch the guy who attacked you eventually.  I promise."

Samba just continued to smile, but it faltered with every word Limbo said.  "I know you will.  I'll try to keep my guard up in the meantime."

And with that, Samba left, leaving Limbo's apartment quiet, cold, and lonely.

Limbo just stood there, Webber watching and waiting for her reaction.

"Well...  This sucks..."


***** ***** *****


It was a bright and sunny day in Baltimare.  While it was nearing suppertime, the sun was still shining radiantly as it gradually made its way toward the horizon.  There was only a hint of amber in the sky as of yet, so no creature out and about felt any need to pack it in and head home, even though they were finishing up work about now.  Canter Waterfront Park was a choice spot today apparently, as there were many people of all ages and species out for walks or having picnics.

Limbo was one of those people, except she wasn't out for a walk or planning a picnic.  Typically, if Limbo were ever seen in the streets of Baltimare, it was likely that she was busy investigating a case of some kind.  The people around her wouldn't know it, but she wasn't even doing that today.  She was simply wandering aimlessly, lost in thought.

All morning—heck, all weekend—she'd been anticipating going off the leads she'd gotten from the Magi-Tech Expo, but now that she had the opportunity to follow them, she suddenly found herself lacking the motivation to do so.  Even so, she couldn't bring herself to sit around in her apartment all day; her partially decayed brain wouldn't let her.  But she also couldn't focus well enough to do any investigating.  She barely even noticed how far from home she'd wandered.  The only reason she managed to snap out of her haze was because being at Canter Waterfront Park made her think about the day she was there with Samba to check out Trixie's magic show.

And that was the crux of the issue.  Samba wasn't helping her out anymore.  She'd gone back to work at that pub, leaving Limbo without an assistant.  She still had Webber, but there was only so much a spider could do.  Discussing the details of a case wasn't within the little arachnid's skillset.  But why should she be upset about this?  It's not like Samba wasn't her friend anymore.  They could still hang out whenever they were free.  And it wasn't like she wasn't used to working alone.  Limbo had been going solo pretty much since Poe had disappeared.  Samba had only worked with her for a week; it's not like having an assistant for a measly week would spoil her.  Right?

Limbo needed to take her mind off of it.  And the best way to cheer herself up when she was in a funk or needed to refocus her thoughts was with a hot cup o' joe.  She hadn't had the wherewithal to take a container of coffee with her when she left, but she knew of a small café within sight of the park.  There was no way they could make coffee that met the high standards of her discerning palate, but something was better than nothing, and she'd only had three cups that morning, so she was suffering a little caffeine withdrawal at the moment.

So, if only as a distraction from being distracted, Limbo ordered a coffee at the café and took a seat at one of the outdoor tables fenced in next to the sidewalk.  Somepony happened to have left a newspaper on the table, so Limbo looked it over as she waited for the server to deliver her drink.  The paper was a few days old, as the front page article was about the theft at the Magi-Tech Expo.

Limbo wasn't surprised to see this article still making the rounds.  It had become a pretty widespread talking point throughout the city.  The highly respected business mogul Mango Career had unveiled his latest invention, a revolutionary—if not ugly—piece of technology that could very well change lives.  And then it was immediately stolen.  Not a good look for Career, and he had no doubt been tearing his hair out over it since it happened.  Thankfully, it seemed like the Ghost's involvement in the theft hadn't been made public.  There were already enough rumors spreading around about the Ghost of Baltimare, some steeped in truth, some radically exaggerated and bordering on conspiracy theories.  Limbo didn't need people panicking over it any more than they were.

A female griffon wearing the uniform of the café's servers placed Limbo's cup of coffee on the table as she was looking over the paper.  The detective absentmindedly took a sip, but then immediately curled her lips and spat it out.  She looked down into the cup to find a milky brown liquid inside, and she directed her disgust at her server.

"The hay is this?!  Did I ask for milk or sugar?"

The server barely reacted to her outburst, just shrugging apathetically.  "Don't look at me, I didn't make it."

"Then bring it back to the person who did, and tell them to replace it with the blackest brew possible.  Put tar in it if you have to, just make it black," Limbo demanded.

The griffon took the cup with a roll of her eyes.  "Whatever."

Limbo turned her eye back down at the paper to try and let her head cool off a bit.  However, a voice from the table behind her wasn't going to let that happen.

"Daddy, why was that woman being mean to the lady?" said a small filly to her father.

"Just ignore her, sweetie."

"But she was being a bully."

Limbo already wasn't in any mood to be taking people's crap today, least of all some punk kid.  She turned back to cast an irate glower at the filly, regardless of how her dad reacted.  "You got something to say, say it to my face, you little—huh?"  Her ire quickly vanished when she noticed just who it was sitting at the next table: a maroon unicorn stallion with a cup of coffee, and a purple unicorn filly with a slice of apple pie.

The two familiar faces were just as surprised to see her, now recognizing the cycloptic mare as well.  In particular, the little filly grinned ear to ear.

"Lady Limbo!"

"Oh, hey, Pirouette.  Rhapsody.  This is unexpected."

As surprised as he was to see her, Rhapsody cocked an eyebrow at her.  "What were you about to say to my daughter?"

"Huh?  Oh, uh, nothing," Limbo chuckled awkwardly.  "Trust me, I would never refer to any child using obscenities to their face."

"But waiters are fine."

"They got my order wrong," Limbo argued defensively.  "If they're gonna work a job, I expect them to do it right."

"But you're not setting a good example for my daughter," Rhapsody scolded.

"I'm not her mom," grumbled Limbo with a grimace.

"You were mean to that lady.  You gotta say sorry," stated Pirouette matter-of-factly, as though it were a rule.

"I don't 'gotta' do anything."

The server returned with Limbo's coffee, practically dropping a new cup of black brew on her table.  Limbo briefly glanced at Pirouette.  The filly was watching her expectantly.  Limbo simply sighed.  Giving in to the cute filly's request, she turned to the waitress with an expression of forced apology.  "Hey, listen, sorry for yelling at you.  I'm just in kind of a sour mood today.  I didn't mean to take it out on you."

The griffon just stared indifferently.  "Look, I'm getting laid off tomorrow.  I really couldn't care less.  Enjoy your coffee," she droned disingenuously as she walked away.

Limbo grinned.  "Hm.  I like her.  Think I'll leave a tip."

"Come sit with us, Lady Limbo!" Pirouette insisted, seemingly satisfied with Limbo's halfhearted apology.

"You don't have to call her that, sweetheart."

"She can call me whatever she wants," said Limbo as she took her coffee over to their table, sitting across from Rhapsody.  "So, long time no see, huh?  What are you guys up to?"

Rhapsody offered an affable smile.  "I just closed up shop and picked Pira up from daycare.  Stopped at Hayburger for supper and the little monster decides after we leave the restaurant that she wants dessert."

Pirouette happily chomped on a mouthful of apple pie with a victorious smile.

Rhapsody's grin faded, leaning on the table.  "So...  Where's Samba?  She not with you today?"

Limbo gazed at him for a moment.  She wasn't sure if Samba had mentioned to her ex that she was working with her, but judging by his question, he probably knew.  But, just in case he didn't and Samba was keeping this information from him for whatever reason, she decided to deflect.  "We've known each other a little over a week.  We're not connected at the hip."

"She told me she was working for you during her downtime.  Figured she'd be spending most of her daylight hours with you."

Limbo scratched her neck, looking a little sullen all of a sudden.  "Yeah, well...  She stopped by my place this morning to let me know she's going back to work at the pub."

"Really?  That's weird."

Limbo quirked an eyebrow at that response.  "Is it?  I mean, we knew from the beginning that this was temporary," she said, though was fully aware of the hypocrisy given her own reaction to the news.  "Have you been talking to her much since she met me?"

He chuckled.  "You kidding?  She's been texting me, or calling to talk to Pira pretty much every day," he said, scrolling over his past texts on his spellphone, which was laying on the table.

"Yeah?  About what?"

"She told me about the magic show!" Pirouette exclaimed excitedly.  "It sounded so cool!  I wanna go to a magic show!"

"She thought you'd like that," Limbo laughed.

"Oh!  And look at this!"  Pirouette snatched her father's phone with her magic, bringing up the picture Samba had taken of herself and Princess Twilight and showing it to Limbo.  "She met Princess Twilight!"

"I know.  I was there too, kiddo."

"That's so cool!"

"So, is that what you two have been doing with your time?  Going to magic shows and conventions?" Rhapsody inferred somewhat judgmentally.

Limbo gave him a quizzical look.  Apparently she hadn't been telling him everything.  "I'm guessing she's been pretty vague with the details, huh."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't often do things without reason.  The magic show, the convention...  We went to those because I had hunches related to one of my cases.  And guess what?  Immediately after the magic show, Trixie vanished."

Rhapsody blinked.  "Seriously?  As in, kidnapped?"

"Well, yes and no.  It's complicated.  The cops decided to keep the whole affair on the down low to spare Trixie's ego.  Point is, we weren't galivanting around to kill time, we were investigating.  Samba was helping me with Trixie's kidnapping, and..."  Limbo grabbed the newspaper from the other table, tossing it to Rhapsody.  "...a theft at the Magi-Tech Expo."

"Oh...  I... didn't know that," Rhapsody said quietly as he looked over the article.  "I wonder why she didn't mention that."

"That might be my fault.  I kept insisting that she not take unnecessary risks, so she probably figured you'd give her the same lectures I did."

"Unnecessary risks?  Samba?" he questioned doubtfully.

Limbo eyed him up for a moment.  This might have actually been a fortuitous coincidence, meeting him here like this.  "I want to ask you something—and you can say no if you feel it's a little too personal—but what is Samba to you now?  How do you see her?"

"Well, she's the mother of my child."

"Yeah, but do you still love her?  Because, based on what she's told me, she certainly still holds you in high regard."

Rhapsody sighed, scratching his cheek as he broke eye contact.  "I care about her.  A lot.  She was my high school sweetheart and the only girl I've ever been with, so it's hard not to still care about her.  And that's what made this so difficult.  You have no idea how painful it was to make that decision, but I was thinking about somepony else when I made it."

His eyes shifted discreetly to the filly sitting next to them, too busy happily chewing apple pie and admiring the photo of her mom and the princess to pay attention to the adults' conversation.

"Samba has always had a kind of... fear of responsibility.  She's afraid of being blamed if something goes wrong.  That's why she works at that pub.  Because she's good at it and it's the easiest and safest option for her.  I was pretty surprised when I heard she was working with you, even if only temporarily.  She's a good person, but I don't know if I'd consider her a role model."

"I don't know if you're giving her enough credit."

"How do you figure that?  You haven't known her as long as I have."

"No, I haven't.  But in the short time that I have known her, I've seen somepony who knows what kind of person she is and isn't happy with her self-image.  That's why she insisted on working with me."

"And now she's back to her old job after only a week," Rhapsody reminded her.  "This is what I'm talking about.  She can't commit to anything."

"Actually, it's your fault she quit," Limbo told him with a knit brow.

"My fault?" he balked, vexed by the accusation.  "How is it my fault?"

"She told me this morning that she was just listening to what you told her about 'growing up.'  She's doing what she believes is the 'realistic' choice."

"You can't put that on me.  She's the one who chose to interpret her job as the realistic choice because that's all she's willing to put any effort into."

Limbo stared at him doubtfully.  "You think she's unwilling to put effort in?  You know, one of the things she talked about a lot was how much she wished she could help Pirouette practice magic.  Your kid always seems to be on her mind."

"That's easy for her to say, sure, because she can't.  Can you say she actually would if she could?"

"Can you say she wouldn't?" Limbo countered.

"Better than you," he retaliated.  "She didn't work when we were married, but I still had to take care of most of the chores when I got home.  She just sat back and let me do everything because she was afraid of messing something up."

Limbo closed her eye.  She was starting to feel like she knew Samba more than he realized.  Or, at the very least, she knew the current Samba better than he did.  "Hey, remember what I said before about scolding her for unnecessary risks?  The Samba you're talking about sounds like she doesn't step on eggshells, she makes somepony else step on them.  So you might be surprised to hear that she was the reason we were able to rescue Trixie."

Rhapsody's eyes widened in surprise.  "Wait, really?"

She shrugged.  "I mean, maybe I'm exaggerating a little considering the kidnapper was some meek kid and Trixie willing went with him, but she didn't know that for sure.  Samba still charged in there to help her, regardless of her own safety.  And, while the theft at the expo turned out to be a diversion, Samba was still a big help there too.  Being honest, I couldn't have made the progress that I did investigating the Ghost of Baltimare without her help."

Rhapsody turned away, an uncertain and guilty look in his eyes.  "So... why were you scolding her about it, then?  Sounds like she's... actually been doing a good job."

"I told her off about it because they were 'unnecessary' risks.  Did her risks help?  Yes, absolutely.  Could we have managed without her putting herself in potential danger?  Probably.  Look, I'll be the first to admit that I'm being a hypocrite.  I have a tendency to toss my own well being to the wayside during my investigations, but the reason I told her to not follow my example in that regard is because she has more to lose than I do."

"She did mention that your best friend was kidnapped already," Rhapsody uttered sympathetically.

Limbo breathed a short breath through her nostrils.  "There's a little more to it than that, but that's not your problem.  The point I'm trying to make is that Samba is putting the effort in.  Whether or not you've seen it for yourself in her texts and phone calls doesn't change that.  The thing is, I'm not sure if she's noticed it herself yet, which might be part of the reason why she decided to go back to the pub."

Rhapsody tapped his hoof lightly on the table in thought.  His eyes drifted to Pirouette, who was still distracted by her apple pie and a simple game on her father's phone.  "So... have you told her that yourself?  Like, how much help she's been?"

Limbo blinked.  "Uh, well, yeah."

"Then you tried to stop her from quitting?"

The mare shifted uncomfortably in her chair.  "I'm... pretty sure I made my thoughts clear."

Rhapsody stared at her for a moment contemplatively.  "Limbo, have you ever been in a relationship?"

She arched a puzzled eyebrow at the seemingly unrelated question.  "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question."

"Well, no.  I've got no interest in romantic relationships.  I've never really been the type of person who felt like she needed somepony else to make me feel 'complete.'  You might not be able to tell by talking to me, but I don't even have many people I'd call close friends.  Just my best friend Poe, and now Samba."

Rhapsody grinned knowingly.  "Then I guess you don't understand."

Limbo narrowed her eye, starting to get a little annoyed by his coyness.  "Understand what?"

"If you care about somepony, you should let them know."

Limbo grimaced.  "Look, dude, I'm not macking on your ex or anything.  Especially when she clearly still has feelings for you and is probably not into girls anyway.

Rhapsody simply chuckled.  "Not what I'm getting at.  Samba just seems like she's been in a particularly good mood since she met you.  She'll always take an opportunity to talk to me if I ever text her for something, but she rarely tries to strike up conversation herself.  It's even pretty uncommon for her to chat up Pira, as much as she cares about her.  But she's been contacting us pretty much everyday, sounding more chipper than I've heard her in a long time.  And based on everything you've said, it sounds like meeting you was good for her.  And it sounds like you enjoyed having her around too.  So why let a good thing for both of you come to an end?"

Limbo stared down at the table for a moment.  He wasn't wrong.  Having Samba around was a nice change of pace.  She'd even expressed herself that it was nice to have somepony to just talk to, especially with Poe gone.  But it wasn't like they weren't friends anymore.  She and Samba both agreed that they could still hang out on occasion.

So, then, that begged the question: why was Limbo so distracted by this that she couldn't even focus on her investigation?  What was it about Samba that made this whole situation so disheartening for her?  Was it that she was so willing to keep her secret?  Was it that she was actually able to befriend an ornery spider like Webber?  Was it because of her contributions to the investigation?

Or was it all of the above?

"You okay?" Rhapsody asked.  "You got quiet all of a sudden."

Limbo lifted her head, as though she'd forgotten she wasn't alone.  "Oh, sorry.  Just... thinking.  Uh, listen, it was nice talking to you and all, but I think I have some stuff I need to take care of," she said as she stood up from the table.

Pirouette finally removed her eyes from her dad's spellphone.  "You're leaving, Lady Limbo?" she said, some disappointment in her voice.

"'Fraid so, kiddo," she answered, tousling the filly's curly, pink mane.  "I'm a busy mare, what with all my detective work, so I can't sit still for too long or the bad guys will get away."

That seemed to perk the filly up.  "'Kay!  Catch all the bad guys, please!"

"They don't stand a chance," Limbo told her with a cocksure smirk.  She then glanced back at Rhapsody.  "Hey, it was nice talking to you, Rhapsody.  We should do this again sometime.  You know, with Samba around maybe.  Not gonna lie, feels a little awkward chatting up my friend's ex without her around."

"Sounds fun," he said, though not without a hint of reticence.

Limbo watched curiously as he sipped his coffee.  "Quick question: how do you take your coffee?"

Rhapsody quirked an eyebrow at the inane question.  "Uh, two cream, two sugar.  Why?"

Limbo pursed her lips for a moment, then shrugged.  "Eh, Samba could do worse."

The stallion narrowed his eyes in vexation.  "Excuse me?"

"Anyway, I'm off.  Later," Limbo bid them, downing her own coffee and heading off.

"Bye, Lady Limbo!" Pirouette called out cheerily and far louder than necessary.


***** ***** *****


"Here you go," Samba said with a friendly grin as she placed a pair of steins on the table, the mugs overflowing slightly with foamy head.

One of the stallions seated there grinned back gratefully.  "Thanks."

"It's good to have you back, Samba," said the other stallion.  "I'm sure every guy here missed you while you were gone."

Samba giggled with a slight blush.  "That's sweet, but I really needed the time off.  I had some personal things to work out."

"Hey, at least you're back now.  The place feels empty without you," the first stallion said as he took a swig of his beer.  "Speaking of which, you, uh... gonna be putting on a show for us tonight?" he asked with a bob of his eyebrows.

Samba smirked teasingly.  "Stick around and find out."

With that, she sauntered away, leaving the two customers to anticipate her upcoming performance.  She approached the bar, where Tap was busy cleaning up some empty mugs.  Every patron of the pub now had a drink, which meant that Samba could take a breather.  Thankfully, the customers tended to congregate at the tables, leaving the bar devoid of people most of the time and letting Samba unwind in peace.

She sat herself on one of the stools and let out a long sigh.  It was that time of the night where she could abandon her work persona and let the real Samba take over, no longer needing to force herself to engage in flirtatious chitchat with the sleazy drunkards who frequented The Brewery.  She only did it for the sake of the business.  Enticing the customers was essentially part of her job, and making use of her feminine wiles brought in paying patrons, which in turn meant more revenue for the pub and sizable tips for herself.  At the cost of her dignity, though she didn't have much of that to start with.

"Can I get a glass of water, Tap?"

No sooner had she finished her question did a glass of water slide down the length of the bar, Samba catching it deftly with her hoof.  Tap had the drink at the ready for his coworker, being more than familiar with the routine around here.

"Thanks."  Samba knocked back the full glass as though it were a shot, then slid the empty cup back to Tap to clean.

Tap wandered over to her, his usual compassionate smile adorning his face.  "You don't seem too happy to be back, hun."

"When have I ever been?" she countered.  "It pays the bills, though, and at least I get to do something I do enjoy."

"You mean being ogled by a bunch of drunks?"

Samba cast him a listless stare at his knowing, yet sympathetic smirk.  She always knew his cattiness was seasoned with genuine care and concern, so she never took offense to his sarcasm.  He was really the only thing at this job that made it tolerable.  Him, and the dancing.

"I'm just saying, the look you've been carrying around on your face since you came back from your 'vacation' hasn't exactly inspired confidence."

"I've explained this, Tap.  I can't keep trying to fool myself.  I just need to stick to what I'm good at."

"Even if it's not what makes you happy?"

The small sigh that escaped Samba's lungs was practically a groan.  As much as she liked Tap, sometimes she wished he'd stop trying to be her psychiatrist.  "I haven't been happy since the divorce.  That's not gonna change regardless of where I work."

"Sounds like you still have some things that need sorting out.  Maybe you should've taken a little more time off."

Samba didn't respond, but mostly because she didn't want to admit that he might've been right.  "Can I get another water?" she requested quietly.

Tap said nothing and just refilled her glass for her.  She expected him to make another comment, as he was never one to let something go when he knew she was stressing over something.  However, another customer happened to walk in and seat himself at the opposite end of the bar, so Tap had to tend to him.  Samba didn't bother even looking up from her glass.

"Evening, sir.  What's your poison?" Tap asked the stallion with a welcoming grin.

"Scotch on the rocks."

Samba's ears perked up.  That voice sounded familiar.  She glanced over at the new patron, recognizing his dark grey coat, midnight blue mane, and the distinguishing wings of a bat pony.  She had to look him over for an extra second to be sure, since this was the first time she'd ever seen him out of uniform.

"Owl?"

The bat pony turned in her direction, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.  "Oh, hey, Samba."

Meeting a familiar face at The Brewery was an uncommon occurrence for Samba, so she didn't hesitate to move down the bar to sit next to him, offering a pleasantly surprised smile.  "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

Night Owl shrugged.  "What?  I'm not straight edge or anything.  I enjoy a drink every now and then.  I'm a little surprised to see you here, though."

"I work here," she told him.

"Oh, right.  You mentioned that when we were questioning Nimble, didn't you?  We were a little preoccupied at the time, so I never got a chance to ask about that."  He looked her over, noting the apron she was wearing with a few wet stains on it.  "You serve drinks here, I'm guessing."

Samba looked away, twirling her wavy mane with her hoof.  "Uh, well, yeah, if I want to make a little extra some nights.  But I primarily provide... entertainment..."

Owl stared at her for a moment, then shifted his eyes to the large stage at the back of the pub, then back to Samba, whose cheeks were starting to turn red.  He'd noted himself when he first met her that she was an attractive mare, so it didn't take a genius to put two and two together.  "You're an exotic dancer, then?"

"N-Not that exotic, mind you," she replied defensively, her face becoming redder.

Tap passed Owl's drink to him, giving Samba a quizzical, yet coy look.  "You know this handsome fellow, Samba?"

She nodded.  "Yeah, this is Sergeant Night Owl.  I met him while I worked with Limbo."

Tap eyed Owl up with a smirk.  "Sergeant, you say?  Well, I certainly hope you aren't planning any pat downs," he cooed.

"Behave yourself, and I won't have to," Owl told him sternly.

"Don't entice me, Officer," Tap joked playfully.

"Tap.  You're married," Samba scolded him with a knit brow.

"Relax, I'm just playing," the bartender chuckled.  "But just so I'm not too distracted, I'll go ahead and give you guys some privacy."  Tap then wandered off to bus some empty tables and clean up some dirty mugs.

"Don't think I've ever seen you here before, Owl," Samba commented.

"Because I've never been.  If I wanted to get a stiff drink, there are bars closer to my place than this.  Besides, I didn't come here to just have a leisurely drink," he said, keeping his voice down.  "This is supposedly where Wick Nimble met his contact, so I figured I'd scope the place out to see if it might be one of the Ghost's 'haunts,' you know?"

"I can't really say for sure myself," she responded with a shrug.

Owl took a sip of his scotch.  "So, you working two jobs, then?" he asked Samba.

"Well, no.  This is my real job.  I was only taking some time off and decided to help Limbo during that time."

"Working on your vacation?  Didn't take you for a workaholic."

"I'm not, it's just... complicated.  And it worked out, I guess.  The reason I took time off in the first place was because I have a stalker and he attacked me."

"What?  Really?" Owl balked quietly, showing her some concern.

"Mm-hm.  One of the guys who frequents this place kept leaving me notes asking me to contact him, and I guess he got fed up that I wasn't responding."

Owl discreetly glanced over his shoulder at all the stallions drinking and conversing boisterously.  "So he might be one of these guys?"

Samba shook her head.  "I don't think so.  I started working here again over the weekend and haven't gotten a single note from him."

"Sounds like this place just attracts seedy types.  So what happened to him?  You got away from him?"

"Well, kinda.  Actually, it was Limbo that chased him off.  That was part of the reason why I was working with her, as thanks for saving me.  She didn't manage to catch the guy though."  Samba smiled somewhat optimistically.  "Maybe he doesn't want to risk getting caught again, so he gave up coming here."

"Not to burst your bubble, but I doubt it.  People like that don't give up so easy.  He just might be trying to lay low for a while, wait for you to drop your guard.  Or maybe he doesn't realize you're back at work already."

Samba gulped.  She knew Owl had a point, but she was just trying to reassure herself.

Again, Owl looked over his shoulder.  "You have a description of the guy?"

"No, sorry.  It was dark, and he was wearing a hoodie.  Limbo promised to catch him, but she's got other stuff to deal with too, and she's just one pony."

"Sounds like you were lucky regardless.  Limbo might be a bit eccentric at times, but I can't deny she's good at what she does."

Samba stared at Owl as he took a swig of his scotch, the ice cubes lightly clinking against the glass as he placed it back on the counter.  "Were you and Limbo close?"

Owl grinned knowingly at the question.  "If you're asking if we used to be an item, that would be a big fat no.  In fact, that couldn't be further than the truth.  Me and her have always been more like rivals."

"Rivals?  But you were working together on the force."

"Just because two people are on the same team doesn't mean they have the same ideals."  He sighed as he swirled his drink slowly, staring vacantly into the amber substance as it swished around.  "It pains me to say that she has a point.  The B.P.D. has never been the most altruistic group, and I'm no different than the others, except for maybe an extra fifty I.Q. points.  I wouldn't call us 'corrupt,' though, just kinda selfish.  Sometimes we don't bother with minor crimes like petty theft and vandalism because nopony really gives a crap about little stuff like that.  Solving the big crimes is how you make a name for yourself.  I'm ashamed to admit that I've turned civilians away just because I didn't deem their problems 'important' enough."

"You're not still like that, though.  Are you?" asked Samba, unsure if she actually wanted the answer.

Owl paused briefly, still not looking Samba in the eye.  "Guess that depends on who you ask.  Limbo would probably say I haven't changed, but I guess I haven't exactly given her a reason to think otherwise.  We still take jabs at each other whenever we see each other.  But I don't know.  Maybe I've just been extra critical of myself since I became chief of police."

Samba lifted an eyebrow.  "Chief?  I thought you were a sergeant?  I don't know a lot about police ranks, but I thought chief was above sergeant."

"It is, but I prefer my officers to call me Sergeant, or just Sarge."

"Why?"

He just shrugged.  "Who can say?  Just got used to it I guess."

"Oh.  Uh, out of curiosity, what rank was Limbo?"

"Also sergeant.  Actually, both of us were fighting over who would get to be chief one day."

"Is that what fueled your rivalry?"

He shook his head.  "Maybe it caused us to butt heads more frequently, but like I said before, a difference in ideals was the source of our infighting."

"And you got the promotion over her in the end, I guess.  That must've been a blow to Limbo's ego."

"Actually, I didn't get promoted until after she'd already quit the force.  She got fed up with the way the rest of us were handling things.  And even though she saw me as the only other competent officer, she still didn't like my attitude.  And the feeling was mutual.  I ended up getting the promotion after the former chief was crippled during a drug bust and forced into early retirement."  He took another swig of his scotch—a long one.  "Funny thing is, in hindsight, I think Limbo would've gotten chosen for promotion over me had she stuck around."

"You think so?"

"I do.  I wouldn't admit it to her face, of course, but she was—is a damn fine officer.  Her sheer persistence and dedication to her job probably gave her a leg up over me.  Kinda makes me wonder if the force would've been better off with her in charge."

Samba said nothing in response to this.  She had said when she first met Night Owl that she would form her own opinion of him and the B.P.D. rather than take Limbo's words at face value.  And after hearing all of this, seeing that Owl clearly had respect for Limbo—in so far that he believed she could've made chief of police before him—and his insistence that his colleagues refer to him by his former rank, she was starting to suspect that maybe he believed subconsciously that he didn't deserve to be chief.  He had never come off to her before now that he would be the sort of person to have self-esteem issues.  It just made her empathize with him.

"The weird thing is," he continued with a vexed furrow of his brow, "for as talented an officer as she is, I can't help but notice how much more reckless she's gotten since she quit.  She's always been pretty brash, but since going solo, I've seen her charge head first into a lot of situations without so much as a second thought to the consequences.  It's not a lack of fear or anything, it's more like she simply doesn't have any sense of self-preservation anymore."

Of course, Samba knew exactly why that was.  Limbo didn't have a life left to lose, but she couldn't tell Owl that obviously.  "Maybe she's just trying to go to any means necessary to save her best friend, even if it means putting herself at risk."

"And that's the thing," said Owl, tapping the countertop rhythmically.  "I'm still trying to piece together what Poe's part is in all this."

Samba gulped, suddenly kicking herself for bringing her up.

"Limbo's hunch about the Ghost was right, we know that now.  The theft of Mango Career's device is proof of that, and even provides a reason for Sizzle Conifer's disappearance.  So, now, the only piece that doesn't fit is Poe Ravensong.  Was it to deter Limbo's efforts like you suggested?  Possibly, but I've got my doubts.  Limbo never really said anything about it, like it didn't surprise her that Poe was targeted.  And now that we know for sure that her hunch was correct, that just makes Poe's involvement all the more puzzling.  Limbo's hiding something, I know she is."  Owl turned to Samba, his inquisitive gaze causing Samba to break eye contact nervously.  "She wouldn't happen to have mentioned anything to you?"

Samba hesitated, finding it difficult to bring herself to lie to a police officer's face.

And that hesitation was all Owl needed.  "She did, didn't she?  Mind sharing?"

He had phrased it as a polite request, but his tone exuded noticeable authority.  But even though she was receiving a command from not just a police officer, but the chief of police, she had made a promise to Limbo, and she intended to keep it.  "I-I...  I can't..."

Owl quirked an eyebrow.  "You 'can't'?  So you do know, and you just won't tell me."

"I'm sorry," Samba said quietly, avoiding eye contact.  "I promised her I wouldn't say anything."

"That so?  Well, I know Limbo too well to believe that she's blackmailing you in exchange for your silence."

Samba, feeling guilty about inadvertently legitimizing Owl's suspicions, finally looked him in the eye to try and justify Limbo's actions without revealing too much information.  "She's just trying to protect Poe."

"I see..."  Owl stared down into the half a glass of scotch left in front of him for a moment.  "So, the only assumption I can make from this is that Poe is involved in some kind of illegal activity.  And Limbo is clearly aware of that.  She may not be aiding, but she is certainly abetting."  He looked back at Samba sternly.  "Which means so are you."

Samba was a bundle of nerves right now.  However, she wasn't afraid of what would happen to herself for being complicit in Limbo and Poe's "crime."  Rather, she was worried about what would happen to the two of them if Limbo's secret got out.  Limbo had put her trust in her, and she wasn't about to break her promise.

She looked Night Owl straight in the eyes, his authoritative glare not fazing her.  "Owl...  Do you trust Limbo?"

He didn't visually react to the question, just a slow blink.  "I trust that she wouldn't do something without reason."

Samba smiled slightly.  "Right.  You two have a common enemy right now.  Don't you think it would better if you look the other way for now so you can work together to catch the Ghost?"

Owl took a small sip of his drink, breathing a sigh afterward.  "You might have a point.  Limbo and I might not see eye to eye, but I know she's not a bad person.  That being said, I know how close those two are.  I've met Poe a few times.  Limbo always brought her along to the station's cookouts, even though they're explicitly for officers only.  She's the one that dragged her sorry butt to the hospital when she lost her eye because the rest of us were too busy cleaning up all the fruit shrapnel that got blown everywhere.  I don't doubt that Limbo would go to some extremes for her best friend, and vice versa, even if it meant breaking the law."

Samba was quiet for a moment, but wanted to try one more time to convince him.  "I don't know how much value my words have to you, Owl, but for what it's worth, I don't think either of them have done anything wrong."

Owl observed the compassionate glint in Samba's eyes, practically shining in the dim lighting of the pub.  To Samba's surprise, he smiled, chuckling quietly.  "You're a good friend, Samba.  I can see why Limbo trusts you so much.  Tell you what: I'll turn the other cheek until we've dealt with this whole Ghost debacle.  But I expect to hear the truth when it's all said and done."

"Well, that's up to them.  I'm not gonna break my promise."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there, I guess."  Owl downed the rest of his scotch, leaving just the half-melted ice cubes clinking on the bottom of the glass.  "You know, considering how much you trust her, I'm surprised you decided to quit.  Seemed like you were pretty into it."

"Oh, well...  I'm just trying to be realistic.  I went along with it because I was scared of that guy who attacked me, and because I wanted to do something meaningful with my life.  But I'm not a detective.  I should just stick to what I'm good at."

Owl shrugged with a grin.  "I don't know, seemed like you were pretty good at it, if you ask me.  Barging in on Wick Nimble, snapping that pic of the Ghost.  Sounds like Limbo nabbed herself a pretty reliable assistant."

Samba blushed at the compliment.  "You think?"

"Maybe a bit haphazard at times, but, hey, it works for her, right?" he joked.  "In all seriousness, though, we wouldn't be where we are in this investigation without your help.  And you said you were scared of your stalker, but you still came back to work even though he's still out there.  Sounds to me like she's helped you almost as much as you've helped her, so it puzzles me as to why you'd want to give that up."

Samba sat in silence for a moment.  If stopping a kidnapper and helping further a big investigation wasn't a meaningful enough contribution to her, then that begged the question of what was.  Owl had a point: she wasn't really afraid of her stalker anymore.  She hadn't even considered him when she decided to come back to the pub.  It wasn't that she thought she could deal with him if he showed up again, but more so that she just wasn't thinking about it anymore.  What exactly did that mean, though?  Did it mean she was braver now, or just reckless?  Either way, it was a difference, and that difference wouldn't have happened were it not for Limbo.  If that's the difference one week can make, who knows how much she could have changed if she'd stuck around.  Maybe Owl had a point...

But it wasn't like that was the only reason for her decision.  "Well, I also have a tendency to be over-reliant on other people.  I need to learn to be more independent.  Working with Limbo is kinda counterintuitive to that."

"You think relying on others is a bad thing?"

Samba stared at him, curious as to where he was going with this.

"I know better than most that good help is hard to come by, but as a police officer, working as a team is integral.  Most of my colleagues can't tell left from right without some kind of pneumonic device, but that doesn't mean I don't trust them to have my back when I need it.  You ever hear the phrase, 'strength in numbers'?  'Strength' can mean a lot of things.  Having somepony you trust by your side to help you when you really need it can make a world of difference."

"So, you think Limbo didn't trust you?"

"Limbo may have quit, but she still had somepony.  Her and Poe are practically sisters, and she's her primary source of motivation.  She hides it well, but I really think Limbo is desperate to save her.  She needs Poe, because she doesn't have anypony else."

Samba's ears flattened as that thought sunk in.  Limbo had always insisted that she'd come to terms that Poe might be dead, but what if she really was just as broken up about it as Owl presumed she was?  Limbo came off to her as a pretty self-reliant person, but she did end up befriending a spider after her disappearance, so that may have been telling.  And it wasn't like she hadn't noticed that Limbo seemed to be disappointed to hear she was quitting.  Samba was starting to think her decision may have been more selfish than she realized, which was also counterintuitive to what she was trying to achieve.

Tap finally returned from his busy work, flashing Samba a smile.  "Sorry to interrupt your little catching up session, but it's midnight, Samba."

"Oh, right."  Samba got up from her seat, removing her apron.  "Time for tonight's performance.  Sorry, Owl, but I gotta go get ready."

"You want me to leave?" he asked.

Samba tilted her head at the odd question.  "Huh?  Why?"

If it hadn't been so dim in the building, Samba might have noticed the slight blush on Owl's cheeks.  "Well, I don't know if you'd find it awkward to dance in front of somepony you know."

Samba giggled, smiling appreciatively.  "It's okay.  I've gotten pretty used to tuning out everything around me when I dance.  Besides, having somepony I trust in the audience might actually make it more comfortable to dance in front of a bunch of drunken sleazeballs."

Owl smiled back.  "Fair enough.  Guess I'll have another scotch and enjoy the show, then."


***** ***** *****


Limbo poured up yet another cup of coffee.  She'd lost count of exactly how much she'd had today, but at this point she'd made a game of it.  Since returning home from her aimless walking around town, Limbo had poured cup after cup of coffee, using a new mug for each one in an effort to see just how much she could consume.  She'd gone through a whole can of coffee at this point, and her sink was piled with used mugs, but she still hadn't gone through half of her collection yet.  If her apartment hadn't smelled enough of coffee before, one might think she manufactured the stuff right in her own home now.  She'd needed to use the bathroom at least four times since midnight, and it was just after two now.

All the while, Webber had to sit and watch as she paced back and forth through the apartment, either impatiently waiting for the next pot to be finished, or fighting with her struggling bladder.  The copious amount of caffeine also wasn't helping.  Her degenerated body didn't process the caffeine quite the same as when she was alive, but with this much in her system, she was practically vibrating across the floorboards, and it was starting to make Webber a little dizzy having to watch it with eight eyes.  It was surprising that the tenant below her hadn't raised any complaints.

But the reason she was doing this was simply to kill time and distract herself.  Limbo hadn't been able to focus all day, and that problem was only exacerbated by her chat with Rhapsody earlier.  She had originally planned to track Samba down and talk to her after that, but decided against it at the last minute.

Samba had made her choice.  As disheartened as she was when Samba announced she was heading back to work at the pub, Limbo began to think maybe it wasn't her place to try and convince her otherwise.  After all, Samba had once said that her overdependence on other people was one of the reasons Rhapsody divorced her.  Perhaps being on her own was the best thing for her.

Still, that didn't mean that Limbo didn't already miss her.

Limbo suddenly jumped with a start when she heard a knock on her door.  A visitor at this hour was startling, or maybe she was just jittery from the coffee.  She briefly exchanged silent glances with Webber, the spider crawling off behind the desk to hide from the guest.  Limbo went to answer the door, the handle practically rattling from her caffeine shakes as she turned it.

And her eyes widened considerably more than they already were when she saw the sheepish face of Samba standing in the hall.

"Uh, hi," Samba greeted with a somewhat awkward smile.

Limbo just stared in silence for a moment, but cleared her throat and ran a hoof through her mane in a vain attempt to appear aloof.  "Hey.  I know I said you can come by anytime, but I wasn't expecting you to show up this late."

"Well, I just got off work, so I... figured I'd stop by.  I know you don't actually need sleep, so I didn't think it'd be a big deal."

Limbo tried to seem disgruntled, but she couldn't fight back the tiny hint of a smile.  "Maybe not, but that doesn't mean I don't want to sleep.  What do you think I have to do around here to kill that kinda time?"

"Oh.  Uh, sorry.  Maybe I should just go, then."

Limbo reached out to her desperately as she made to turn back.  "N-No, it's fine!  I was just messing around.  Come in."

Samba grinned and stepped inside, her nose curling almost immediately.  "Geez, did you spill a pot of coffee in here?  It's never smelled this bad before."

"Me?  Spill coffee?  Never.  But, uh...  I may have had a few cups throughout the day."

Samba finally noticed the kitchen sink and all the coffee-stained mugs piled into it.  She just blinked at the sight.  That was bizarre even for Limbo.

Having recognized the visitor's voice, Webber reemerged from his hiding spot.  Samba spotted the spider crawling across the desk, flashing him a friendly grin.

"Hey, Webber."

The spider simply lifted a leg in greeting.

"Sooooo..."  Limbo began as she awkwardly prepared to engage in small talk.  "How was work?"

Samba lolled her head back and forth, her body language not making the atmosphere any less awkward.  "Work was fine.  More interesting than usual."

"Your stalker guy didn't show up again, did he?" Limbo asked with concern, though perhaps sounding a little more overbearing than she intended.

"No, but I did run into a familiar face.  Owl showed up."

Limbo tilted her head in confusion, a slight grimace of disgust on her face.  "Owl?  What was he doing there?"

"Investigating Wick Nimble's contact apparently.  But we ended up having a nice conversation."

"Yeah?  What about?"

Samba hesitated, grinning dismissively.  She wasn't sure how Limbo would feel about her and Owl talking about her behind her back, especially considering that she'd inadvertently heightened Owl's suspicions toward her and Poe.  Plus, she also wasn't sure if Owl would want her mentioning the stuff he'd said to her, so Samba decided to keep the details to herself.  "Uh, nothing you need to worry about.  Just... casual small talk.  How was your day?  Any progress on the case?"

Limbo scratched her head, inhaling sharply.  "Uh, no, nothing," she told her, though willingly withheld the fact that she didn't actually do any investigating today.  However, she grinned back at Samba.  "But, funny coincidence, I happened to bump into Rhapsody and Pirouette during my rounds."

Samba wasn't sure how to feel about that, but was curious regardless.  "Oh.  Uh, did he say anything about me?" she asked cautiously.

"What else would we have to talk about?"  Limbo knit her brow as she thought about it.  "I'm not gonna sugarcoat it, he didn't have much good to say.  But, to be fair, most of what he said was just regurgitating what you told me.  Which was just you regurgitating what he said to you.  And I'm gonna stop saying regurgitating now because I'm starting to gross myself out."

Samba lowered her head.  "I'm not surprised.  I know how badly I hurt him."

"But it's not like he was only dissing you or anything.  He seemed pretty happy to hear that you were enjoying yourself working with me."

Samba's ears perked back up.  "He...  He did?"

Limbo grinned reassuringly.  "Well, that's the impression I got.  Personally, I think he's a bit of a jerk for talking about you the way he did, but I know you still love him, and you know him better than I do."

A wistful smile graced Samba's lips.  If that was true, then that would be hard evidence that perhaps she'd made the right decision after all.  But then doubled back on that decision...

Samba looked Limbo in the eye somewhat sheepishly.  "Um, listen, Limbo...  I'm sorry I dropped that on you out of nowhere this morning.  I didn't want to sound like I cared about my own problems more than yours.  I've just had a lot on my mind, and maybe I've been overthinking my situation."

"Oh, uh, n-no biggie," Limbo responded surprisingly bashfully.  "You gotta look out for number one, I get it.  I can't expect you to drop everything for my sake.  You do what you gotta do."

Samba bit her lip as she mulled this over.  Limbo was smiling at her, but it was an uncertain and fragile smile.  It seemed as if Owl had hit the nail on the head.  Samba felt a little better about this now, and gave her friend a smile.  "Well, I think what I 'gotta do' is help you save Poe."

Limbo blinked as though she may have misheard her.  "Uh, what?  But... I thought you wanted to be 'realistic' and 'independent.'"

"Well, I think the 'reality' is that sometimes people need help to be independent, as ironic as that is."  Samba suddenly felt a pit in her stomach as she realized something.  "Oh, I'm not being too presumptuous here, am I?  I mean, people don't usually come crawling back after they quit a job and actually get it back."

"No, no, of course not," Limbo assured her, unable to keep the relieved smile off her face.  She breathed a deep sigh.  "Not gonna lie, I'm super glad you came back.  It's only been one day and I already feel like I've got cabin fever.  Being one hundred percent transparent, I didn't actually do any investigating today because I was too distracted about you leaving."

"Oh, geez, I'm sorry.  I had no idea you'd take it so hard."  For as sympathetic as she was trying to be, Samba had to stifle a giggle.  Owl definitely knew Limbo pretty well—perhaps even better than Limbo realized.

If Limbo could blush, she'd be a little red right now.  "Yeah, well, maybe keep your lips zipped about that, yeah?  So, does this mean you're quitting your dancing job for real this time?"

"I don't see why I need to.  I don't really do anything with my time during the day anyway.  Hanging with you and investigating hasn't really been much trouble all things considered."

"Ah, so you'll work with me during the day, and work at the pub at night.  You sure you can handle that?  You work pretty late over there."

"Uh, well, I guess."

"Tell you what: we can negotiate hours.  You don't have to get up too early."

Samba smiled gratefully.  "I appreciate that.  So, uh...  I guess I get two paychecks, then, huh?  Rhapsody can't accuse me of having no work ethic now," she tittered.

Limbo chuckled a little herself.  Afterwards, she and Samba shared a moment of relieved silence.  All of this may have unfolded in less that twenty-four hours, but it had still felt like a rollercoaster for the two of them, and they were both satisfied to quickly return to the status quo knowing a little more about each other.

Limbo let out a quiet sigh, grinning fondly.  "I'm glad you're here, Samba."

Samba smiled back cutely.  "Me too."

Out of nowhere, Limbo pulled Samba in for a surprisingly tender hug, catching the unicorn off guard.

Even though she shuddered mildly from how cold Limbo's body was, Samba didn't hesitate to return the hug, though a little awkwardly—she was effectively hugging a corpse.  "Heh, didn't peg you for the touchy-feely type, Limbo."

"And if you tell anypony, I'll break your legs," she responded with a persistent smile.