//------------------------------//
// Chapter 10 - Rising Tempo 
// Story: A Dance With Death 
// by Dee Pad 
//------------------------------//

On a typical morning, Samba would expect to be awoken by the blinding rays of the sun assaulting her face, the light sneaking in through the small portion of the window that the curtains were too short to cover.  However, today was not one of those days.  While there was still some semblance of sunlight visible outside, the sky was mostly overcast.  Instead of the cooing of greedy pigeons, Samba heard the pitter-patter of raindrops against the glass.  It was a light rain, only barely worth taking an umbrella, so there was a peacefulness to the sound of falling rain without howling winds to accompany it.

That being said, Samba was not at peace.

The sleepy dancer pried her eyelids open to check the clock.  Nine a.m.  A little earlier than she'd usually get up, but she had stuff she needed to do, so it was just as well.  She hadn't gotten much sleep at all since getting home from work, but if she couldn't fall asleep by now, there was no point in burning daylight.  Hopefully she'd be tired enough by the end of the day to conk out the moment her head hits the pillow tonight.

Samba tottered her way to the bathroom, washing her face, combing her mane, and brushing her teeth.  She could see how sunken and dark her eyes were.  She was going to need a hefty helping of makeup to hide those bags when she got ready for work tonight.  After her morning maintenance, she made her way out toward the living room, aiming for the kitchen to prepare something for breakfast.  However, she paused.

Laying in the middle of her living room floor, sprawled out on her back with her tongue hanging out like roadkill, was a forest green mare with a kitchen knife lodged in her chest.

Any normal person would freak out at such as sight, but at this point, Samba was starting to become a little desensitized to such things.  So, she simply grimaced with annoyance.  "I use that knife for food, Limbo."

"Can't talk.  Dead," the corpse muttered.

"That's never stopped you before," Samba deadpanned.

"I'm in shambles, Samba," Limbo whined, making no effort to get up or remove the knife from her ribs.  "Everything I've been working toward, up in smoke before my eye.  You don't know what it's like."

"My divorce papers beg to differ, but I guess this is a little different."

Samba definitely felt sorry for her.  It was hard not to pity to the mare laying in the middle of the floor like her life—or rather, undeath—was flipped upside-down.  It was a shock to say the least to find Limbo's apartment up in flames when they returned from their investigation the previous evening.  Limbo was in such a despondent state that Samba practically had to drag Limbo to her apartment for the night while she herself still had to go to work at the pub.  It was hard to put her all into performing last night with Limbo's plight on her mind, but it wasn't like she ever put her all into it anyway.

They hadn't had any time to talk about it either.  Limbo was too distraught immediately after it happened to properly form a coherent sentence, and by the time Samba got home from work at two in the morning, Limbo was curled up on her couch with her back to the wall.  Samba hadn't been able to tell if she was actually asleep or not, but she got the impression that Limbo was too depressed to talk about it, so she figured she'd give her the night to come to terms with it.  Apparently that hadn't done any good, if the knife piercing her lifeless heart was any indication, but at least her theatrics gave Samba a little hope, as annoyed as she was about her kitchen knife being sullied.

"Why did this have to happen?" Limbo moaned.  "We were soooo close, and now all my leads are gone..."

"I thought you had all that stuff memorized by now," said Samba.  "I figured you'd be more upset over being homeless now."

Limbo finally propped herself up onto her haunches with surprising enthusiasm.  "Oh, hey, on the bright side, I have a legitimate reason to beg for food at Leaf and Career's soup kitchen now."

"Is that something to be excited about?  You don't need food, but you still need a home."

The wind dropped from Limbo's sails.  "I was just grasping for a silver lining...  Let me hold onto any semblance of happiness I can get."

Samba did feel bad for her, but it was hard not to be a little frustrated when she sounded like a whiny child.  Still, she wasn't about to give any crap to a person who just lost her home.  "You want something to eat?" Samba asked courteously, heading for the kitchen.

"No..." she moaned listlessly.

"Well, I'm making a sandwich.  If you change your mind, let me know."  Samba opened a drawer to grab a knife, but suddenly found one being held beside her.  She grimaced as Limbo held the slightly blood-stained knife out to her, the wound it left in her chest healing over.  Samba pushed her hoof away.  "No offence, but I'm throwing that knife away."

Limbo shrugged, leaving the knife on the coffee table as she slumped back onto the couch.

Samba just watched as her friend sighed quietly.  "Do you at least want something to drink?  I... don't have any coffee around, though.  I'm making some tea for myself, so just let me know if there's anything—"

"Whatever.  Tea's fine..."

Samba blinked, unsure if she heard that correctly.  She cautiously walked over to the living room like Limbo had just lost a family member.  "Oh, gosh, this must have been even harder for you than I thought.  Are you gonna be okay, Limbo?" she asked with utmost seriousness and concern.

Limbo sat limply on the couch, letting herself sink into the cushions.  "My whole livelihood is gone, just like that.  It's not enough I lose my best friend, but now my home, my leads, all my worldly possessions.  Everything, up in literal flames."

"Well, at least you still have Webber."

Limbo's eye widened a little.  "Oh, geez, you're right.  If I had left him home yesterday, Webber would've been a little pile of ashes now.  Safe to say I'm never leaving him home alone again."  She slumped further into the couch, practically about to slide off and onto the floor.  "You know, if I ever have a home again..."

"How long were you living there anyway?"

"Since I left the force, so about three years.  Had to move into a cheaper place since my pay isn't as consistent as it was when I was a cop."

"Oh.  Based on your reaction, I thought it'd've been longer."

"Yeah, well, let's see how you react when you're forced out onto the street against your will," she grumbled grouchily at her.  "I doubt Rhapsody kicked you to the curb immediately after the divorce and said, 'Good luck, babe.'"

Samba's ears drooped a little.  "I guess my divorce wasn't nearly as sudden as this."

Limbo sighed, casting a one-eyed puppy dog look up at Samba.  "Uh, hey, since I haven't actually had a chance to say it yet, thanks for putting me and Webber up.  I'm lucky to have a friend like you, Samba."

She smiled affably back at her.  "It's no problem."

"You sure?  The landlord's not gonna be mad you're letting me stay here, are they?"

Samba scoffed with a smirk.  "I've only ever met the landlord once when I first moved in.  Everypony here just leaves their rent money at the reception desk.  Otherwise, management is pretty lax around here.  I doubt anypony'll even notice you're here."

"Well, that's good.  They'd probably call an exterminator if they saw Webber crawling around in here."

Samba pursed her lips.  "Speaking of which, where is Webber anyway?"

Limbo just lazily pointed a hoof behind Samba.

Samba turned around, spotting the spider perched in a web in the corner of the apartment near the door.  The mare immediately scowled angrily.  "Hey!  I told you last night, no webs in my apartment!  If you're gonna live under my roof, you're gonna follow my rules!"

Webber didn't budge.  He just stared back at her defiantly.

He may have had more eyes, but Samba wasn't backing down.  "You're just lucky I don't have a broom, mister."

"I think you'll be lucky if you don't come home tonight to find your bed covered in dead flies," Limbo warned.

"He can't catch flies if he doesn't have webs," Samba threatened with narrowed eyes.

"You underestimate his resourcefulness.  And you're not gonna be here all day.  Plus, I lost my perfume in the fire too.  I'm gonna be a walking garbage dump until I can buy some more."

"You can use some of mine.  It might be a little more flowery than what you're used to, but it should get the job done.  Just try not to go overboard.  I'm not made of money."

"Thanks."

Samba headed toward the door.  "Anyway, I'm gonna go grab the mail while I wait for the kettle to boil.  I'll make us both some sandwiches when I get back."  She passed one more warning glare at Webber before she stepped out.

With her gone, Webber crawled down the wall, across the floor, and onto the coffee table.  He stared at the practically gelatinous form of Limbo as she lay slumped on the couch, but she didn't look back.  Limbo was too busy staring listlessly up at the ceiling of the unremarkable apartment.

Limbo had only seen Samba's apartment once the day after they first met.  She'd been a little too preoccupied by something else last night to really take in her new surroundings properly, and even now it was hard to focus on anything else.  She laboriously tilted her head down to look around the living room.  She remembered all those cardboard boxes from her first visit.  They were laid around rather haphazardly, like they hadn't been budged since Samba first brought them into the apartment.

A sense of morbid curiosity came over Limbo.  She could infer that it was all stuff she owned when she was still married, but Limbo wondered why she hadn't bothered to unpack anything yet.  She lazily slid off the couch, walking over to one of the boxes.  Maybe it was rude to pry into Samba's private possessions, especially after she so graciously opened up her home to her, but Limbo already felt like she couldn't sink any lower, so she didn't let her morality stand in the way.

Limbo lifted the flaps on the box.  Inside appeared to be nothing but clothes.  However, none of it seemed casual.  It was all fancy dresses.  The one on top was a long, frilly, purple dress.  Limbo lifted the dress up to get a better look at it.  A white, plastic corsage was pinned on the chest.  If Limbo had to take a guess, she'd probably say this was Samba's prom dress.  She had said that she and Rhapsody had been together since high school.  The two probably danced together while Samba wore this dress.

Limbo glanced back down into the box.  Underneath the prom dress was a brilliantly white gown with ornate flower patterns.  It didn't take much guesswork to figure out that this was Samba's wedding dress.

"You make a habit of poking through other people's things?"

Limbo jumped with a start dropping the dress back into the box.  Samba had returned and was looking at her rather judgmentally.  Limbo grinned awkwardly in an attempt to save face.  "Uh, well, I am a detective.  It's kinda my job to snoop, yeah?  And you are technically a client, so anything I can learn about you is..."  She trailed off when she saw the bemused stare Samba was throwing her way.  Limbo's ears flattened apologetically.  "Sorry."

Samba simply shook her head dismissively as she brought the mail into the kitchen, placing it all on the dining table.  "It's fine."

Limbo once again looked around at all the boxes.  Now that they were on the topic anyway, she may as well inquire.  "So how come you haven't unpacked any of this stuff yet?"

Samba sighed.  "Because there's no point.  It's all just reminders of a time when I was a happier, albeit more shallow and selfish person.  Rhapsody made me take all this stuff with me because he probably couldn't stand to see it around his apartment anymore."

Limbo poked her nose into another box.  It was full of random knickknacks with no purpose other than to be decorative.  Given everything Samba had told her about her past, it would seem she used to be a lot less conservative with her money—or rather, Rhapsody's money; she recalled Samba telling her that she didn't really work after she got married.  Limbo had never pegged Samba as a gold digger, but rummaging through this stuff was starting to paint a picture.

"You ever think about selling some of this stuff, then?" Limbo suggested.  "There's a butt load of trinkets in here.  You might be able to make a pretty penny."

"It might be hard to look at them, but some of that stuff does have sentimental value."  Samba slowly stirred her tea, staring vacantly into the milky liquid.  "Or maybe I'm just trying to justify my unwillingness to change..."

Limbo rolled her eye, plopping herself back down on the couch.  "Don't start with this again.  Not that I don't have some sympathy for your situation, but I think some of us have more immediate problems."

Samba didn't argue with her.  Limbo was right; she shouldn't be forcing her personal issues onto other people.  That would only serve to prove that she was the person she didn't want to be.

Trying to take her mind off of it, Samba fixed herself a cucumber and daisy sandwich.  She made a second and delivered it to Limbo.  The zombie stared at the sandwich for a moment, but reluctantly took it, listlessly taking a bite.

"Fanks," Limbo said halfheartedly, spewing breadcrumbs onto her own chest.

Samba sat down at the dining table to eat her own breakfast.  She glanced over the mail she'd brought up, her eyes lingering on today's newspaper.  The pages had come apart when she haphazardly tossed the mail onto the table, and an article on one of the pages caught her eye; mostly because the accompanying photograph portrayed a familiar sight.

"Hey, the paper's got an article about the fire," Samba mentioned, looking at the colorless photo of the apartment building in flames.

"Big whoop," Limbo moaned.  "What, you wanna pour salt in my wounds?"

Samba ignored her attitude and skimmed the article.  While the article didn't seem to offer any insight into what caused the fire, the description of the incident piqued Samba's interest.  "Huh, I never thought about that until now."

Limbo tilted her head just a little in Samba's direction.  "Thought about what?  The fact that everything I own is sitting in a pile of ashes right now?  Because I've been thinking about that the whole time."

"Do you remember what it looked like?" Samba asked her.

"Devastating?  Soul-wrenching?  Spirit crushing?  You looking for something specific?"

"Less... psychological.  I meant actual physical appearance."

Limbo shrugged.  "Sorry, but every time I replay it in my head, there's a sepia tone filter over it like a dramatic flashback in a movie."

"The fire was blue and red," Samba explained.

Limbo scrunched up her muzzle in thought.  "Hmm...  Now that you mention it, that does spark my memory."  She groaned at herself.  "Ugh.  Why'd I word it like that?"

Samba stood up from the table, bringing the newspaper over to Limbo.  "Do you know what this means?"

"Can't say that I do.  Why?"

"It had to be nirik fire that burned down your apartment."

Limbo quirked an eyebrow.  "Nirik fire?  Like, from a kirin?"

"Yes.  That's what color nirik fire is.  Were any of your neighbors kirin?"

"I don't think so.  I mean, I never really interacted with my neighbors, but I don't recall ever seeing any kirin around the building."

"So what are the chances that this was a freak accident?" Samba posited with increasing vigor.

"You think this was arson?" Limbo inferred.

"I don't think it was just a random arsonist.  It was probably the Ghost!" Samba exclaimed.  "Think about it.  The Ghost has the Spellmet.  The Ghost has Sizzle Conifer.  The Spellmet can copy kirin magic.  It adds up."

Limbo didn't appear impressed by Samba's deduction.  "So?  How does that help us?  We could easily assume all of that before now."

Samba deflated just a little at the counterpoint.  "Um, I guess it means the Ghost knew where you lived."

"That's not exactly a secret.  I have to advertise my business if I hope to get clients," Limbo explained, snatching the newspaper and showing her an ad for her detective agency in the classifieds, complete with street address and apartment number.  "It's one of the few expenses I have since I don't have to waste money on things like food."

"Well...  Uh, we know that the Ghost doesn't know how to kill a zombie.  Maybe now that they have access to nirik fire, they wanted to try burning you.  Would that have worked?"

Limbo shrugged.  "Eventually, I'm sure.  Bear in mind, I'm not going around testing the limits of my regeneration.  But if I were set on fire for long enough, it might do enough damage to kill my brain before the spell can fix it.  I know there are some zombie flicks where incinerating the corpses worked, but that's still fiction.  Again, I ask you: how does this help us?"

Samba knit her brow slightly.  "I'm just trying to do what I can to get you out of this funk.  I figured evidence of the Ghost's involvement might light a fire under your—uh, I mean, motivate you."

Limbo just flicked a hoof dismissively as she took another emotionless bite of her sandwich.  "I appreciate the attempt, but can you just leave me alone?  I'm wallowing here."

As Samba watched Limbo devolve further into self-pity, she found her own face contorting into an aggravated grimace.  And without thinking she snapped at her.  "The hay is wrong with you?!"

Limbo flinched at Samba's sudden outburst.  "Why are you yelling?  You know what's wrong.  I just lost my home."

"So?"

Limbo frowned at her apparent disposal of any sympathy she had.  "Geez, nice bedside manner you got there," she grumbled sarcastically.

"This isn't you, Limbo.  Maybe I've only known you for a short time, but I've never seen you like this.  I've never seen you so down on yourself.  Even in the face of potentially harrowing situations, you always charge straight in regardless of the danger.  You see everything as an opportunity and latch onto it because you've got the gumption to see things through to the end.  What you're doing right now, drowning yourself in your own pity, is not something the Limbo I know would do.  It's something I would do.  I insisted on helping you with your investigations because I wanted to better myself.  You're not just my friend, you're my role model."

Limbo blinked, staying silent.

"I have so much respect for you and what you do because you do it without question or hesitation.  You do it because you care about other people more than you care about yourself.  But now it's just all about you!  All you're doing is whining and complaining!  'Oh, poor me, my home burned down, guess I'll die.  Again.'"

"Why don't we burn your place down, see how you feel?" Limbo muttered quietly under the verbal lashing.

"Look, I know you're upset, I understand that, but it's not like this has actually set back the investigation, right?  You know all that stuff you had pinned up, don't you?"

"It did set us back.  Leaf delivered the citizen records to my place yesterday, remember?  So those are gone now too.  Now I've got to try and explain that to Bubble Gust and the Mayor and get another talking-to."

"But the point I'm trying to make is that Limbo—the real Limbo—wouldn't sit around on her butt feeling sorry for herself.  I figured she'd use loss as motivation.  Isn't that what you did when Poe was kidnapped?  I wasn't around when that happened, but based on what I know about you, I feel like you're taking this harder than when you lost your best friend.  If anything, by burning your place down, this whole feud with the Ghost is only becoming more and more personal.  You've got more reason than ever to bring them to justice.  And the fact that they're actively trying to kill you now must mean we're close, right?  We're backing them into a corner, so they're forced to try and bite back.  Doesn't that mean anything?"

Limbo let out a long breath through her nostrils.  "All it means is that you're in danger now too.  If the Ghost is that desperate to take me out, what's stopping them from going after you to get to me?"

"You think I don't know that?"

Limbo cocked a puzzled eyebrow at her.  "You do?  Then... why'd you bring me back to your place knowing you'd be putting yourself in harm's way?"

"Because you're my friend!"

Limbo just stared at the authoritative expression on Samba's face.  She felt very much like a child being scolded by her mother, which contradicted pretty much everything Samba has said about herself in the past.  But before she had a chance to say anything about it, Samba headed for the door, grabbing her saddlebags and an umbrella on the way.

In contrast to the past few minutes, Samba glanced back with soft compassion.  "Maybe you just need some time to process this.  Admittedly, I don't know what your grieving process is, so I'll just give you some space and come back later.  Sorry for yelling at you.  I'll pick up some coffee on the way home."  And that was all she said before she left the apartment, leaving Limbo alone with Webber.

Limbo just sat back quietly, staring at the half eaten sandwich in her grasp.  If she could still have an appetite, she'd have lost it by now.


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


The longer the morning went on, the milder the rain became.  When Samba had left her apartment, Baltimare was experiencing a light drizzle, but the local weather pegasi were now in the process of clearing the skies, creating gaps in the cloud cover that allowed the morning sun's rays to shine through.  It eventually reached a point, where Samba didn't really even need her umbrella anymore, so she stuck the handle into her saddlebag as best she could.

Samba didn't really have a destination in mind.  This walk about town was more so to allow herself to decompress while letting Limbo come to terms with her situation.  She did feel bad.  She kind of laid into her pretty harshly.  Limbo had just lost her home, and, as usual, all Samba could think about was herself.  Samba chose to help her to improve her own attitude, so now that Limbo wasn't being herself, she got upset with her.  Some friend she was...

She should just go back and apologize.  All she was doing by chewing her out was making a bad situation worse.  How was Limbo supposed to get over this if Samba was just piling on?

Samba made to turn around, but paused.  She did promise to bring home some coffee for Limbo.  It might make for a good peace offering after the way she'd behaved.  Unfortunately, she didn't own a coffee maker, and she knew Limbo was pretty picky about her coffee.  Although, Limbo only drank black coffee, so all she had to do was order a black coffee at a restaurant.  Black was black, right?  Surely Limbo wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

So, first of all, she had to figure out where she'd ended up during her aimless wandering.  She had been heading uptown, whether consciously or not, and it looked like she'd reached Canter Waterfront Park.  Samba knew there was a quaint little café nearby, but she happened to spot a donut shop called Do-Boy's first.  Nothing went together with coffee like donuts—she assumed—so maybe Samba could literally sweeten the deal while she was at it.

Samba sauntered over to the donut shop, but the moment she approached the door, she spotted none other than Loose Leaf through the glass on his way out with a cup of coffee—iced coffee, if Samba had to guess.  He appeared to be lost in thought and didn't notice her until he stepped outside and stopped right in front of her amicable smile.

"Oh, hey, Samba," Leaf greeted, looking a little surprised to see her.

"Morning, Leaf.  Fancy running into you here.  On your way to work?" Samba presumed.

Leaf shook his head.  "Nope.  Got the day off today.  Probably for the best.  Things are getting more and more heated at town hall the closer we get to the election.  Gust might be a little... uh, what's a good word for it?"

"Cloying?"

Leaf shrugged.  "Sure.  But she can be scary when she's serious.  And I also don't have any desire to listen to the mayor's whining.  I've been contemplating just taking a vacation until the whole thing blows over."

The exasperated sigh that escaped Leaf's lungs didn't go unnoticed by Samba.  With having to put up with those two on top of his strained relationship with his brother, Leaf was no doubt pretty stressed.  Samba wanted to apologize to Limbo, but maybe Leaf could use an ear as well.

"You busy, then?" Samba asked hopefully.

Leaf stared at her for a moment, her friendly grin rather disarming.  "Uh, well, I was probably gonna head down to the soup kitchen for a while, but the rest of my day is gonna be spent at home ruining my eyes by staring at computer screens," he chuckled.

Samba was a little disappointed, but continued smiling.  "Oh, well, I guess you don't want to keep those poor people waiting, huh?"

Leaf thought it over for a moment.  He seemed conflicted by the choice, but he eventually smiled back.  "Eh, they don't know I'm coming this early anyway.  I can spare a few minutes."

He gestured politely toward the park, guiding Samba across the grassy meadow and to a bench.  Leaf removed the apron he would wear at the soup kitchen from his saddlebags to wipe the rain water off of the bench for them to sit down.

"You know, I don't think the two of us have ever had the chance to talk without Limbo around," Samba mentioned.

"Guess not.  And I want to clarify that I didn't agree to this in order to flirt or anything.  I know you're going through your own stuff with the divorce and everything."

"It's fine.  I don't mind just talking.  But I probably shouldn't take too long.  I need to get back to talk to Limbo too."

"What's she up to anyway?  Oh, let me guess.  You're acting as her gopher and picking up some coffee so the two of you can engross yourselves in those citizen records.  How close is that?"

"Um, well, first of all, I think Limbo prefers to make her own coffee.  I was just gonna pick up a cup for her and some donuts as an apology."

"Apology?  What, you guys have a fight or something?"

"Kinda..." Samba admitted sheepishly.  "I got a little upset with her earlier and went for a walk to cool myself off.  And I feel really bad now.  I shouldn't be getting on her case after what happened."

Leaf quirked an inquisitive eyebrow.  "Why?  What happened?"

Samba was slightly surprised by the confusion on his face.  "You haven't heard?  Have you not read the newspaper today?"

"I don't really keep up with the news, if I'm being honest."

"There was a fire at Limbo's building yesterday.  Her apartment and a few others were caught in it."

"What?!  That's crazy!" he exclaimed incredulously.  "Is she okay?"

"She's fine.  Uh, physically anyway.  The place was on fire before we made it back there.  As far as I know, everpony in the building was fine and evacuated safely.  But Limbo's apartment was completely incinerated.  She's staying at my place until she can find another place to live.  But she's been completely despondent since it happened, which is... kinda why I got upset with her."

Leaf grimaced.  "A person being depressed about losing their home doesn't seem like a good reason to be upset with them, but I feel like I'm missing some context."

Samba idly twirled her wavy mane with her hoof, sighing remorsefully.  "It's... complicated.  Mostly personal stuff, me being selfish.  That's why I want to apologize."

Leaf frowned sympathetically.  "I guess that means the files I delivered to her place are gone, huh?  I am not looking forward to telling Gust about that.  I mean, she can't blame me for a freak accident, but with all the frustration that she's building up dealing with Highstrung, she's on the verge of turning into a tiny little fireball of fury.  I just don't want to be the one to push her over the edge, you know?"

"Actually, I don't think the fire was an accident."

Leaf stared at her in surprise.  "You don't?"

Samba glanced around, making sure there weren't any people near enough to hear her.  "I think the Ghost was trying to kill her," she told him in a hushed tone.

Leaf quirked an eyebrow.  "Is this a paranoia thing, or do you have any evidence of foul play?"

She hesitated a little.  "Uh, maybe I shouldn't be sharing this information with a civilian."

"What, you don't trust me?" he chuckled with a joking smirk.

"No, of course I do," she backpedaled apologetically.  "I just don't think it's my place to be revealing that info.  Limbo's the professional, not me."

"Fair enough."

Samba glanced at Leaf as he sipped his iced coffee.  The topic of Limbo reminded her of something.  "Hey, you never got a chance to answer my question yesterday."

"Hm?  What question?"

"How close you and Limbo are."

"Oh, that.  'Close' maybe isn't the right word.  We're acquaintances at best, I'd say.  We really only see or talk to one another when she stops by town hall.  With the expo and yesterday at the soup kitchen, I've probably seen her more over the past week than the rest of the times I've seen her combined," he laughed.

"Yeah, but you two still seem pretty chummy with one another.  Or should we chalk that up to Limbo's charisma?"

"That could be part of it.  Limbo's pretty easy to talk to.  I definitely enjoy her company, especially since the only other people I get to talk to at work are Bubble Gust and Mayor Highstrung.  And I think I've made my feelings about them abundantly clear.  Not that I don't like them, but they can be a bit much sometimes."

"You certainly come off as a bit more laid back compared to Limbo, though, if you don't mind my saying," Samba commented.

"I could say the same about you," he said with a smirk.  "Yet somehow you two wound up working together."

Samba broke eye contact, looking away awkwardly.  "W-Well, that's a whole thing.  Long story.  Kinda complicated."

"Everything's 'complicated' with you, huh?" Leaf chuckled.  "Meeting Limbo couldn't have been that bizarre."

Samba lolled her head back and forth.  "Weeell, more bizarre than you're probably thinking.  But one of the reasons I'm helping her is because I owe her my life.  She saved me from a stalker who was trying to attack me on my way home from work one night."

"Yikes.  That must've been pretty scary," Leaf remarked sympathetically.

Samba couldn't help but grin in mild amusement.  "Funny thing is, that wasn't even the weirdest thing to happen that night, but, uh... that's neither here nor there."

Leaf stared at her curiously.  "So, who was this stalker?  Somepony you know?"

Samba shook her head.  "No.  All I know is that he's a regular at the pub I work at, The Brewery.  Unfortunately, Limbo didn't manage to catch him that night, but she promised to get him someday to make up for it."

"Sounds like a Limbo promise.  That mare was never one to let something go unfinished," Leaf said admiringly.

"You sound like you have a lot of respect for her, even though you claim you don't know her that well."

"Again, I could say the same for you, but I guess she never saved my life.  It's not hard to get a bead on her personality, though.  She's pretty open, all things considered.  Kind of a chatterbox, and pretty blunt occasionally.  I can see somepony saying that she can come off as rude and inconsiderate, but, personally, I find her wit somewhat... challenging," he said with a playful smirk.  "It's fun to trade barbs with her when you know she's not being serious."

"But she can get pretty serious when she needs to be.  She goes in hard whenever the Ghost is involved with anything."

"Can't say I blame her though.  The Ghost did kidnap her best friend."

"You know Poe?" Samba asked curiously.

"Nope.  Never met her.  Heard a bit about her from Limbo, but that's it.  Must've had some talent to be targeted by the Ghost, though."

"Well, that could've been to threaten Limbo too, right?"

Leaf raised an eyebrow.  "To threaten her?  Hmm, I guess so.  That makes sense too, I suppose."

"I figured that'd be everypony's first thought," said Samba, though she obviously knew Leaf was right the first time, but couldn't outright tell him that.  "But if it really was because she knows some special magic, I guess I don't have much to worry about, even though I'm in the same position she was," she laughed, though followed it with a somber sigh.

Leaf frowned empathetically.  "Oh, yeah.  You never got your chance to use the Spellmet at the expo, huh?  But why not just go ask Mango if you can try out one of the other prototypes?  They have plenty of them apparently," he suggested, though added a quiet grumble at the end.

Samba shook her head dismissively, but managed a weak smile.  "It's fine.  I mean, what's the point, right?  Even if it does work with me like it did for you, that doesn't mean I'll suddenly know how to cast spells.  I wanted my magic to help Pira, but her entrance exam for Celestia's school is probably coming up pretty soon.  There's not really enough time for me to learn anything special, let alone teach my daughter anything.  And if she passes, she's going to be moving to Canterlot, so I'll see even less of her than I do now."

"You're really okay with not being able to use magic?" Leaf asked.

Samba observed the surprising amount of concern on his face, but shrugged.  "I've gone this long without it.  It'd be convenient, sure, but I've managed pretty well so far."

"Did you never have people making fun of you growing up because you were a unicorn who couldn't use magic?" Leaf inquired, his brow knit slightly to imply is own personal experiences.

"Well, sure, there were bullies in school that teased me, but I also had Rhapsody to look after me," she answered fondly.  "Oh, Rhapsody's my ex, in case I never mentioned him before."

"Sounds like you were one of the lucky ones, then," he mumbled.  "I didn't have the luxury of having somepony to stand up for me.  Mango is several years older than me, so he was already graduated by the time I made it to high school.  You might not guess by looking at me, but I also had a pretty hot temper as a kid, and bullies only served to exacerbate it.  I guess since I didn't have anypony in my corner, I had to take matters into my own hooves.  Got into a few fights over a couple of passing comments.  I like to think I've gotten better about it since reaching adulthood, especially since I can use magic now, but some stuff still manages to get under my skin."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Samba uttered softly and compassionately.  She lowered her gaze to the ground with a forlorn sigh.  "I knew I was taking my relationship with Rhapsody for granted, but I guess I never realized just how much."

"Has he been helping your daughter learn magic?" asked Leaf, partly as a way to change the subject for both their sakes.

"As much as he can.  For all the things that make Rhapsody amazing, I guess his magic is nothing to write home about.  Pira's the one who got all the talent."

"You mentioned her magic was pretty powerful for her age.  How powerful we talking here, out of curiosity?"

"Rhapsody had an expert do an analysis recently.  Her magic is apparently on par with the average adult, maybe even a little above average.  She's not on Princess Twilight's level, or even Luster Dawn's, but it's still impressive," Samba told him with a proud smile.

"You think power alone is enough to get her into Celestia's school?"

Samba just smiled confidently.  "Pira's a quick learner.  She's been studying hard like a good girl.  I was talking to her on the phone over the weekend, and she was super excited because she cast a projection spell for the first time, creating a little magical image of a butterfly in the air."

Samba pulled out her spellphone to show Leaf a picture that Rhapsody took of Pirouette with a dark blue, ethereal butterfly tethered to her horn, a big, toothy grin on the filly's face.

"That's pretty cool," Leaf commented.

"Yeah, and our monthly weekend together is coming up, so I'm looking forward to spending time with Pira.  I want to see what other stuff she's learned."

"I'll admit that I don't know many spells myself.  I only got over my funnel horn a few years ago, so levitation is pretty much the extent of my repertoire."  He punctuated that by using his silver aura to lift his iced coffee to his lips for a sip.  "I've been trying to teach myself some stuff, but a lot of spells are more complicated to cast than they look.  I guess it's true that you can't teach an old dog new tricks."

Samba stared at him, a morbid curiosity building within her.  "Um..."

Leaf quirked an eyebrow at the sheepish look on her face.  "What?"

"I know I asked this at the expo, but... what was it like to get your magic back?  You said it was a rush, right?"

Leaf smiled.  "Oh, yeah, absolutely.  I compared it to getting over a cold, but the more I think about it, the more that sounds like a gross understatement.  Athletes sometimes talk about a 'runner's high.'  I'd imagine it's something like that.  Just this surge of adrenaline from the raw energy flowing through you.  Seriously, you'll never experience anything like it again.  It's... almost a little disappointing."  He did nothing to hide his listless sigh.

Samba didn't quite know how to respond to that.  Maybe it wasn't worth thinking about.  Either she'd get over her funnel horn or she wouldn't, and if it was the former, maybe she'd understand what he was talking about.

The conversation seemed to come to an end at that point, somewhat awkwardly.  Samba didn't really know what else to say, so now may have been as good a time as any to wrap things up and head home.

"Excuse me."

Samba and Leaf turned at the sound of the nasally voice addressing them.  A changeling mare was standing beside the bench—maybe a little too close.  Her chitinous skin was a light purple in color, while the iridescent shell on her back concealing her wings was a much darker purple, both glistening with some leftover moisture from the day's precipitation.  Her translucent, membranous mane and tail were a pale green, matching her monotone eyes.  She was also carrying a newspaper within her neon green, magical grasp.

Samba pulled back slightly, a little uncomfortable by how closely the changeling was leaning toward her.  "Uh, can I help you?" she responded.

The changeling stepped back a little, glancing between Samba and Leaf, both of whom were staring at her rather awkwardly, and her thin ears perked up with sudden realization.  "Oh, whoops.  Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your date."

Samba blushed deeply at her assumption.  "Uh, no, no, we're not on a date.  We're just friends."

The changeling tilted her head.  "You sure?  Looks like a date to me."

"Yes.  I mean, no, we're not on a date," Samba repeated, becoming more and more flustered.

Leaf simply shrugged.  "What difference does it make if she thinks we're a couple?  Do you need something, miss...?"

"Oh, I'm Mandible.  My friends call me Mandi," she introduced with a cute grin.  "Again, sorry if I'm being a tricycle."

Samba and Leaf blinked in confusion at the odd phrase.

Samba tilted her head at her.  "Uh...  A 'tricycle'?  What does that mean?"

Mandible suddenly looked a little self-conscious.  "Oh, my bad.  I've never been to your kingdom before.  I still don't know all of your pony sayings."

Leaf's eyes widened when he pieced it together.  "Oooh, I get it.  I think she was trying to say she didn't want to be a 'third wheel.'"

"Yeah, that," Mandible confirmed.

"Oh.  Well, that's okay.  No biggie," Samba told her.  "Now, what was it you wanted to ask?"

"Hm?"  Mandible suddenly looked confused, as though she'd forgotten what she was doing, but then suddenly straightened up as it came back to her.  "Oh, right!  I was looking for, uh..."  She opened the slightly damp newspaper she was holding, squinting at one of the pages to try and read the smudged ink.  "...Detective Limbo."

Samba's ears perked up.  "Huh?  Really?"

"Yeah.  I went to the address in this ad, but the building is apparently the same one from this article that caught on fire yesterday," the changeling explained.  "So I've just been asking around to see if anypony knows where I can find her now."

Samba grinned pleasantly.  "Well, you're in luck.  My name's Samba, and this is Loose Leaf.  Limbo's actually a friend of ours.  I work for her part-time as her assistant even."

Mandible smiled back with glee.  "Really?!  Well, talk about petting your luck!"

"What?"

"I think she means it's a 'stroke of luck,'" Leaf corrected.

"Oh."  Samba's smile fell as she recalled Limbo's current situation.  "Well, anyway, as much as I'd like to introduce you to her, now might not be a good time.  She's pretty torn up about her apartment burning down."

"Hrm..."  Mandible scrunched up her muzzle, looking conflicted.  "But this is an emergency.  I need somepony to help me."

"Why not just ask the cops?" Leaf suggested.

"I tried.  I met a couple of police officers on the way here and they just combed me down."

Samba blinked, taking a moment to decipher that.  "Oh, they 'brushed you off.'"

"Yeah," Mandible grumbled.  "Quick question: is going to the spa a normal thing for pony police officers?"

Samba sighed with a grimace.  "Based on what I've heard, it is for some."

"So what's your emergency anyway?" Leaf asked out of curiosity.

"Well, see, my brother left the Changeling Kingdom a few months ago.  He wanted to see all of the interesting things in Equestria and go looking for shoes."

Samba tilted her head, thoroughly puzzled by her brother's motivations.  "He... wants shoes?"

"Shoes..."  Leaf pondered for a moment before a light bulb suddenly turned on.  "Ah, got it!  'Soul searching.'  Phew, that was a toughie.  This is kinda fun actually, like solving a crossword puzzle," he chuckled amusedly.

"Yeah, so, anyway, my brother's just been visiting different towns and cities in your kingdom over the past few months," Mandible continued.  "He's been texting and calling me almost everyday since he left to share all the stuff he's seen and learned."  Her expression suddenly turned worried and sullen.  "But a little over a month ago he just... stopped contacting me."  She pulled out her spellphone.  "The last text I got from him he said he'd just arrived in Baltimare.  I tried calling him, but I can't get through.  I think something must've happened to his phone, but I know he would just buy a new one if he had to.  I'm worried something might've happened to him, and I came all this way to see if anypony could help me.  You two wouldn't happen to have seen him, would you?  His name's Pedipalp."

"Doesn't ring a bell," said Samba apologetically.  "What about you, Leaf?"

Leaf closed his eyes for a moment.  "Pedipalp...  The name does sound familiar."  He pondered for several moments more, knitting his brow tightly as he thought.  "Oh, wait, I think a changeling by that name asked me for directions once, but that's as much as I can give you."

"Where was he trying to go?" Mandible asked hopefully.

Leaf shrugged.  "He was just asking for restaurant recommendations.  I dropped a few names, but can't say I know what place he ended up picking, though."

The changeling sighed in defeat, hanging her head.  "Oh...  And you're sure Detective Limbo can't help me.  It just seems so strange that my brother would just disappear without a trace like that."

Samba blinked.  "'Without... a trace'?"

"I don't know why that one confused you, Samba," said Leaf.  "She actually got that phrase right."

Samba didn't respond.  She just stared, wide-eyed, at Mandible, who was staring back with a quizzical look.  Something clicked in Samba's brain, as though the pieces of a puzzle were suddenly piecing themselves together.  Without warning, she hopped off the bench, forcing Mandible to take a startled step back.

"Wait, hold on!  This is...  Maybe this...  Your brother, and..."

Leaf stood up, arching an eyebrow at Samba's odd behavior.  "Uh, you okay?"

As the thought began to coalesce inside her head, Samba became more and more hysteric.  She began trotting eagerly in place.  "Th-This could be big!  Really huge!  We have to go talk to Limbo!"

Mandible drew back, a little cautious of Samba's sudden mood shift.  "B-But you said now's not a good time because—"

"No no!  This is super ultra omega important!  She has to know!"

"Samba, you're acting crazy," Leaf commented.  "Just calm down and explain what's happening."

"I-I can't do words good right now!  We just gotta go!  Limbo needs to hear this!  Mandi, follow me!  Quick, quick!"

Mandible seemed understandably confused and a little worried, but decided to play along for her brother's sake.  "O-Okay..."

"Nice talking to you Leaf but I gotta go bye!" Samba blurted hastily.

Leaf didn't even get a chance to respond before she galloped off with Mandible having to flitter her wings to keep up with her, leaving him more than a little confused.

However, as she and Mandible made it to the edge of the park, Samba suddenly screeched to a halt, her eyes locking onto the donut shop across the street and remembering something.  She suddenly blushed, her hysteria dying down for a moment.  "Oh, uh, actually I need to make a quick stop first," she said, pointing to the donut shop.  "You want something while I'm at it?"

Mandible was a little frazzled, but answered, "Uh, do they have morphoberry smoothies?"

Samba hesitated.  "I... don't know what that is, but I'll ask."


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


In rather a hurry and with a cardboard tray with a pair of coffee cups and a box of donuts, Samba lead Mandible to her apartment building, leaving herself a little out of breath as a result.  However, as the made it to Samba's second floor apartment, she paused as she placed her hoof on the door handle.  There were perhaps a couple of precautions she should take before inviting Mandible into her home.  For one, even though changelings were bug-like themselves, it probably wasn't a good idea to bring her in if there happened to be a big spider crawling around inside.  But more importantly, Samba did find a corpse with a knife in her chest when she'd gotten up that morning.  Given Limbo's recent disposition, she wouldn't have been surprised to find something similar now.

Samba flashed an awkward grin at Mandible.  "Uh, wait here for a minute, okay?"

Mandible seemed a little puzzled, but did as she was told, sipping idly on her morphoberry smoothie.  She did give Samba an odd look when the unicorn stealthily cracked the door open, peering cautiously inside her own apartment.

Samba didn't immediately see Limbo around, but spotted Webber on the coffee table.  She slipped inside, closing the door behind her and leaving Mandible waiting out in the hall.  Limbo wasn't in the living room, nor the kitchen.  "Limbo?  You here?" she called out as she placed the coffee and donuts on the kitchen table.

The sound of plastic clattering could be heard from the bathroom, followed by Limbo's voice.  "Uh, yeah.  Just... give me a minute, yeah?"

Samba could hear the sound of running water now.  Limbo was a zombie and has stated in the past that she couldn't get sick.  She knew Limbo was is an emotional state right now, but was it possible for stress to make a zombie sick?  Just in case, Samba decided to ask anyway.  "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine!" she called back defensively.  "I just need a minute, like I said."

"Uh, okay.  But I brought somecreature who wants to talk to you."

Webber took that as his cue to hide, skittering off underneath the couch.

"Uh, really?  Who?"

"A potential client.  I think you're gonna want to hear what she has to say."

Limbo's despondent sigh could barely be heard from the bathroom.  "I don't know if I'm in any state to be adding to my workload, Samba."

"No, seriously.  You one hundred percent need to hear about this," Samba insisted.

"Ugh, fine, whatever."

After a few moments, the running water stopped and Limbo emerged from the bathroom.  Samba stared at her, narrowing her eyes slightly.  There was a smudge of pink on the zombie's cheek.

"Were you using my makeup?" Samba inferred.

Limbo looked away awkwardly.  "Uh, no.  What makes you think that?"

"You missed a spot," Samba pointed out bemusedly.

Limbo lifted a hoof to her cheek discovering the smear of pink now on her hoof.  She grinned like a foal with her hoof caught in the cookie jar.  "Oh.  Whoops."

"I said you could use my perfume, not my makeup.  Why do you even want to use makeup?"

"I was bored," she answered simply.  "It makes you look pretty, so I figured I'd give it a shot.  You know, out of curiosity."

Samba grimaced at her phrasing.  "Um..."

Limbo, realizing what she'd said, backpedaled quickly.  "Uh, n-not that you don't always look pretty, 'cause you do.  Just, uh...  Okay, how do I fix this?"

"You say, 'sorry,'" Samba deadpanned.

Limbo hung her head.  "Right.  Sorry..."

Even though she'd suggested it, Samba waved the apology off anyway.  "Well, I owe you an apology too for the way I acted earlier.  So I brought a peace offering."  She gestured to the coffee and donuts on the table.

Limbo stared with scrutiny at the logo on the side of the cup.  "Oh, Do-Boy's coffee, huh?" she commented with a slight grimace.  She glanced at the rather apologetic look on Samba's face, feeling a little bad suddenly.  "Thanks, Samba.  That's a sweet gesture."  She grabbed the cup, hesitating slightly before taking a sip to appease her friend.  "Mmm, that's some good... watered-down coffee.  Yum," she remarked patronizingly as the subpar brew dripped down her throat.

Samba sighed.  "Sorry, I know you're really picky about coffee, but I was in a hurry to get back."

"No, no, it's fine, really," Limbo told her with a genuinely gratefully smile.  "Besides, I haven't had a coffee since yesterday morning.  I'll take what I can get at this point."  She turned her attention to the box of donuts.  "Do-Boy's might have bland coffee, but I know from my days on the force that their donuts are to die for."  Limbo grabbed a powdered donut from the box and bit into it, a drop of lemon filling squirting out the other end and onto the table.

Samba grabbed a glazed donut for herself, just happy that Limbo seemed to be at least putting her funk behind her for the time being.

"Sho..." Limbo said, donut crumbs and powdered sugar spraying her mouth.  "You shaid you brought shomepony to shee me?"

Samba's ears suddenly perked up.  "Oh, shoot!  Uh, right, just a sec."  She hurried over to the door, quickly glancing over her shoulder to Webber, who was peering out from under the couch.  The spider retreated from sight, giving Samba her cue to open the door.  "Okay, you can come in."

Limbo watched curiously.  She was a little caught off guard to see a changeling enter the apartment, but that also piqued her interest.

"This is Limbo," Samba introduced.  "Limbo, this is Mandible, or Mandi."

Both Limbo and Mandible stared at one another in silence, the changeling not making any effort to avert her gaze from the detective's eyepatch.  Limbo glanced at the cup she was carrying, deciding to use that as a way of evaluating this stranger.

"You drink your coffee with a straw?" Limbo commented judgmentally.

"It's not coffee, it's a morphoberry smoothie," Mandible corrected.

Limbo cocked an eyebrow.  "The hay is that?"

"A smoothie made with morphoberries," the changeling answered plainly.

Limbo rolled her eye.  "Well, that clears that up," she muttered sarcastically.

"Apparently morphoberries  are native to the Changeling Kingdom," Samba explained.  "Mandi was telling me about it on the way here."

"Are they any good?" Limbo asked doubtfully.

"Depends," Mandible answered as she took a sip.  "Morphoberries randomly change flavors, and so do the things made using them.  My smoothie was sour a minute ago.  Now it's sweet."

Limbo pursed her lips interestedly.  "Huh, sounds neat.  I wonder if a bitter smoothie would taste better than Do-Boy's coffee.  Maybe it's a gamble, but it might be worth a try sometime."

"Yeah, yeah, that's all well and good, but we have more important things to talk about," Samba told her impatiently.  "Mandi, tell her about your brother."

Mandible nodded.  "Uh, sure.  So, my brother Pedipalp came to Baltimare a while ago and I haven't heard from him since.  I'm worried something might've happened to him."

Limbo frowned, both empathetically and a little dismissively.  "Look, Mandi, I feel for you, I really do, but I don't know if I want to take on any more cases right now.  My home just burned down and I'm trying to dig my emotions out of the ashes."

Mandible hung her head dejectedly.  "Oh...  A-Alright, I understand..."

Samba gave Limbo a light, reprimanding jab.  "Limbo!  This is serious!  The police won't help her, so you're the only one she can turn to.  After everything you've said about the B.P.D., do you really want to be as bad as them?"

"I've just got a lot on my plate right now," Limbo sighed.  "If my situation were different, I'd have no problem helping her out."

"Then let me see if I can sweeten the deal," Samba insisted eagerly.

Limbo drew back at Samba's sudden enthusiasm.  "Eh?"

"Consider this: Mandi's brother is a changeling.  Her brother disappeared without a trace.  How long ago did you say that was, Mandi?"

"Um..."  Mandible pulled out her spellphone, browsing her texts.  "My last text from him was a little over a month ago."

Limbo's eye widened suddenly, staring incredulously at Samba.  "Wait...  You don't think..."

"That's why I brought her here!" Samba exclaimed.  "Maybe it's just a coincidence, but what were you telling me yesterday about coincidences and patterns?  We've been speculating all this time that the Ghost was a changeling, but what if they just kidnapped one?!"

"You think?" Limbo uttered with cautious optimism.

Mandible's face suddenly went a little pale.  "Wait, a g-ghost?  N-Nopony told me this city was haunted!"

Limbo grimaced at her.  "You don't actually believe in ghosts, do you?"

Samba gave Limbo a similar glare.  "Really?  This coming from you of all people?"

"Shut up," Limbo scolded through clenched teeth before turning back to Mandible.  "Anyway, it's not a real ghost—'cause they don't exist.  That's just the name we've given to a serial kidnapper here in Baltimare."

"Oh!  You think that ghost stole my brother's soul?" Mandible inferred.

Limbo ran a hoof down her face.  "It's not a real ghost," she repeated firmly.

"I think she meant they 'spirited him away,'" Samba corrected.  "And, yeah, that's what I've been getting at!  They could be using the Spellmet to copy changeling shapeshifting!"

"What's a 'Spellmet'?" asked the changeling.

"A dumb name for a revolutionary—if not hideous—invention.  Long story short, the guy who made your spellphone invented a thing that can copy magic spells and let even those who can't use magic for one reason or another to cast said spells."

"Oh.  That sounds cool," Mandible commented.

"Until you learn that the Ghost stole one," Limbo told her.  She turned back to Samba.  "Which is one of the problems with this theory.  We've speculated that the Ghost was a changeling before the Spellmet was stolen.  What reason would a changeling have to kidnap another changeling?  Your brother know any special spells?" she asked Mandible.

"Uh, no.  Just basic stuff, same as me.  Shapeshifting and stuff."

"But we've just been operating on the assumption that the Spellmet stolen at the Magi-Tech Expo was the first Spellmet that went missing," said Samba.  "If the Ghost works for Mango Inc., they could've just stolen one from H.Q., right?"

"Then why go through the trouble of planning the heist at the Expo?" Limbo questioned.

"The same reason they disguised themselves as a pegasus when meeting Wick Nimble!  To throw us off the scent!" Samba persisted.  "Or maybe it was because they had an outdated model and they wanted a newer one.  Leaf mentioned that they'd gone through multiple revisions is a short amount of time.  But here's the big thing," she continued with growing excitement.  "Pedipalp is not just a changeling, he's a tourist.  We never heard about his disappearance until now because he's not from here!  If the Ghost had another Spellmet this whole time, it means they've had access to changeling shapeshifting for a while now!  The Ghost might not be a changeling after all!"

Limbo's pale, silver eye glinted.  "Which would mean the citizen records that we lost in the fire might not be as big a setback as I thought!  It does unfortunately mean that we have to broaden our search, but if you're right, we could probably rule out the changelings altogether!  And kirins for that matter, thanks to Sizzle Conifer.  That's a relief, honestly.  Less chance of moral dilemmas."  Limbo grinned with renewed optimism and vigor.  "Right, that settles that, then.  First thing tomorrow, we're heading over to town hall, then back to Mango Inc.  We ain't waitin' for Career to contact us."

"I mean, there's plenty of daylight left today.  Why not go now?" Samba suggested.

Limbo shied away in slight shame.  "'Cause I'd still like a little more time to mourn.  I'm a tad worried that if I start randomly thinking about it, I'm gonna have an anxiety attack.  And that wouldn't be conducive to nuthin'.  You, uh...  You understand, right?"

Samba hesitated in the face of the shockingly meek and shameful expression on Limbo's face.  But she had a feeling she knew why she was looking at her like that.  She smiled at her understandingly, as well as apologetically.  "Yeah, I understand.  And, listen, I really am sorry about the way I acted earlier.  It was uncalled for, and I was just being selfish, only thinking about myself and not your feelings.  I haven't known you very long, so just because I've never seen it before, doesn't mean you don't need time to reign your emotions in after something serious happens.  You're a tough cookie, but you still have a heart."

"Well, for what little that does for me," Limbo chuckled.  "But I want to apologize too.  You were right.  I can't just mope around and let this get to me.  People's lives are on the line, so I've got to keep my eye on the prize.  If the Ghost thinks they can crush my spirit, they got another thing coming," she declared with strengthened resolve.  Then, she smiled at Samba gratefully.  "But on a similar note, I've got something to say: the mare that was scolding me this morning didn't sound like the Samba I first met."

Samba blinked.  "I didn't?"

"Nope.  The old Samba only acted that belligerent when she was desperate.  Otherwise, she was pretty mild-mannered, a little sheepish, even kinda submissive.  You often talk about how you want to be a better person, or at least a better mom, so it might mean something to you that you made me feel an awful lot like a whiny child earlier.  I can't say I know the 'proper' way to raise kids, but I've heard parents should be tough on their kids sometimes.  Sounds like a step in the right direction to me," Limbo told her with a proud smile.

Again, Samba just stared at her, unsure if she entirely believed her logic.  "You think?"

Limbo shrugged.  "I dunno, what am I, a psychologist?  That's just my two bits.  You can take it or leave it."

Samba smiled gratefully.  "I appreciate that.  I don't know whether or not you're actually right, but it's still nice to hear."

"I dunno what's going on with you guys, but it's sweet to see you two sewing stuff together."

Limbo and Samba turned to Mandible, the detective blinking blankly.  "Oh.  Uh, sorry, kinda forgot you were here."

"I don't exactly have anywhere else to be," she told her with a shrug.

"You should probably get a hotel room," Samba suggested.  "I'd offer you my couch, but it's occupied currently."

"That's nice, but I figured I'd be staying here awhile, so I already have a hotel room booked."

"Oh.  Well, good."

The three of them just stood around in awkward silence for a minute, the only sound Mandible slurping on her smoothie.

Limbo was the one to break the silence.  "All things considered, we should probably fill Mandible in on the Ghost situation if her brother happens to be one of the victims."

"I guess so," Samba agreed.  She glanced to the still-nearly-full box of donuts, then back to Mandible.  "Want a donut?"

Mandible simply shrugged, grabbing one with some chocolate coating and seating herself at the kitchen table.

"I guess we've got a dinner conversation set to go," Samba said with a shrug.  "Should I order some takeout?"

Limbo pulled out a chair and sat down with Mandible.  "I'm down for some Hayburger.  You, Mandi?"

"Ooo, never had Hayburger before.  Sure, I'll try it."

"Alright.  You guys okay with just a burger and fries?"  Samba pulled out her spellphone to call in the order.

"Sounds good," Mandible said with a nod.

"Fine by me.  Oh, ask if they have morphoberry smoothies.  I wanna try one," Limbo requested.

"Sure.  That all?" Samba asked as she dialed.

"Yep.  Oh, and since were treating my new client, consider this a business expense on me."

"Thanks.  Alright, give me a sec."  Samba said as she stepped out into the hall to make the order uninterrupted.

Mandible looked at Limbo curiously.  "Is Hayburger good?"

"I haven't had it in a while, but it's a flavor that sticks with you.  A fat, greasy hayburger with cheese, lettuce, onion, pickle, and a generous serving of their special sauce.  It'll shorten your life expectancy, but some people ain't worried about that, myself especially.  Oh, and the horseshoe fries are killer, if I remember right.  Half potato, half fryer grease, and three quarters salt."

Mandible licked her lips in anticipation.  "Mmm, we really need to get more pony food in the Changeling Kingdom.  That sounds like it would really punch the stomach."

Limbo quirked an eyebrow.  "Uh, that's one way to put it, I guess."