The Alleys of Ponyville: Short Stories from the Noireverse

by PonyJosiah13


Defrosting

Contrary to what might be expected from the Chief of Police, Cold Case lived in the same humble apartment in the Everfree District that she'd lived in since she made Detective Sergeant, up on the top floor of one of the nicer buildings in the neighborhood. The two-bedroom apartment was on the cheap side but comfortable, with its creaky floors covered with white carpets, combo kitchen and dining room, and a reliable heater. Said heater was currently humming as it filled the apartment with heat, enough that condensation was forming on the picture window, through which Cold could see snow falling down upon her city, each flake glimmering in the lights of her city beneath.

She pulled the blanket up closer to her chin and snuggled into her heated, perfectly firm pillow, stretching out on the sofa. Said pillow gently tightened the fetlock that she had wrapped around Cold's barrel.

"Cozy?" Beacon Fire asked, the heat of her breath tickling Cold's ear.

Cold hummed in appreciation, turning to levitate the wine glass from the coffee table over to her lips. Beacon Fire's vivid flame-colored mane tickled her nose; the scent of cinnamon shampoo filled Cold's nose and she took in a deep sniff.

Beacon chuckled and gave her a squeeze around the middle. "I'll have to keep that shampoo," she commented.

Cold cleared her throat, blushing as she took a sip of her wine. "It's...I like it," she commented.

Beacon nuzzled the crown of her head, sniffing her arctic blue mane. "I like yours, too," she purred. "It smells like a winter morning."

"It's nothing special," Cold admitted, her blush increasing from self-consciousness. "Just...something I grabbed off the shelf."

Beacon leaned over into Cold's gaze, giving her an upside-down smile. "If you're wearing it, that makes it special," she said.

Cold smiled, flushing with happiness. "If you keep saying nice things about me, General, I might just fall in love with you."

"Rats. You figured out my master plan," Beacon chuckled.

Cold laughed as she leaned up to kiss the lieutenant general, savoring the taste of wine and alfredo on her lips. "How did I get so lucky?" she asked.

"I ask myself that all the time," Beacon Fire replied, her eyes going to the bookshelf standing against one wall. A few framed photographs stood in a line on the top shelf. The left-most picture, standing next to Cold's graduation photo, depicted Beacon and Cold standing with their forelegs around each other's shoulders, beaming up at the camera, the spires of Canterlot in the background.

"So how come some other mare hadn't already snatched you up before I came along?" Beacon asked.

"Oh, stop..." Cold murmured; by now, she felt like her face alone would be enough to heat the entire apartment.

"Seriously, why?" Beacon replied. "You're beautiful, you're strong, you're smart, and you have a good heart."

Cold shrugged, nestling up against Beacon's chest. "I...didn't consider it a priority for a long time," she admitted.

"But you had other marefriends?" Beacon asked.

Cold sighed, puffing some of her mane out of her face. "Well, my first date was in college: a criminal justice major, like me. I thought it was going to go somewhere, but after we slept together one night, I suddenly didn't exist. My roommate Margaret set me up on a few other blind dates, but none of them went anywhere."

"I see," Beacon nodded. "And after you became a cop?"

"The job came first," Cold replied, allowing some bitterness to slide into her voice. "If I...needed to scratch that itch, I'd just pick somepony up from the bar and bring them home for the night." She shifted in place. "Of course, there was one stallion...a coworker." She sighed. "But it wouldn't have worked out. He's with somepony else now that's a much better fit for him, and I'm happy for him."

"Mm-hmm," Beacon said with a knowing smile.

"What about you?" Cold replied.

"Well...my first time was before I enlisted," Beacon said. "I wanted Betelgeuse and me to have some good memories to get me through boot." Her face creased into a frown. "She gave me the Dear Jane letter in the middle of my fourth week."

"Her loss," Cold stated, wiggling around to face Beacon.

"Oh, she doesn't know the half of it," Beacon grinned, squeezing Cold. "I've learned a lot more since then."

The heat in Cold's face extended to her ears. "Is...that so?"

"Yup," Beacon said proudly, a sly grin crossing her face as she studied the pink coloring spreading across Cold's white face. "You want me to show you?" she asked, her hoof sliding down to Cold Case's flank, rubbing in a circle around her cutie mark and drawing a surprised squeak from the mare.

Cold gazed at Beacon for a few moments, her heart fluttering in her chest as she studied the way Beacon's orange curls, normally done up in a tight bun, spilled around her shoulders and framed her grinning face. Her eyes locked onto the inviting glimmer in her golden eyes, then she managed to smile. "Well, I think you could...chill out a little," she said.

SIlence reigned for a few moments, then Beacon let out a loud laugh as Cold buried her reddening face in her hooves. "I cannot believe I said that out loud," she moaned. "You're a bad influence, Bea."

Beacon gently pulled Cold's hooves away from her face and reeled her into a kiss. "Maybe I can be even more of a bad influence," she purred, her horn lighting up like a flickering flame.

Cold suddenly spasmed, her back arching with a gasp.

"It is getting chilly," Beacon continued purring. "I think you need a light."

"B-Bea," Cold gasped out, her eyes sliding out of focus. "Bedroom. Now."


They lay tangled beneath the sheets, panting heavily and smiling at each other in the fading glow of the stars overhead and the city lights below filtering through the windows. Beacon wearily raised a hoof to brush Cold's sweat-soaked mane out of her face, freeing up her lips for a long kiss that Cold happily returned.

"Haven't...done that in a while," Cold panted, her face glowing with tired contentment.

"Me neither," Beacon replied, gently wrapping her arms around her partner and pulling her close. "But I guess we're not that out of practice."

They lay together in quiet solace for a few moments, humming happily in the afterglow.

"You think the two of us could work?" Cold asked, nestling up against Beacon's chest. "I mean, we are both pushing fifty by now."

"I don't see why not," Beacon replied, stroking Cold's mane and back. "My mom always said that the right time was when I found the right pony." She kissed the top of Cold's head. "And Cold, I found the right pony."

Cold smiled up at her, but her face fell as she nestled up against the other unicorn. "What's wrong?" Beacon asked.

"I just remembered my own mom," Cold mumbled. "She passed a few years ago. She would've loved you; I wish you could've met her."

"I'm sorry," Beacon replied, snuggling her.

Cold sighed. "I shouldn't be worried about that," she said. "Mom wouldn't have wanted me to be sad. Not when I've finally got a genuine lover."

"One that will do anything to keep you safe and happy," Beacon promised her. "Hell, I already dove on top of a grenade for you."

"Something I hope you never have to do again," Cold mumbled through a yawn.

Beacon chuckled. "Me too."

As exhaustion slowly began to creep up on both mares, Cold's eyelids flickered and all sound fell away, save for her partner's slow breathing and the steady beat of her heart, lulling her into sleep.

As her eyes closed, she heard her own voice whisper.

"I love you, Beacon Fire."

Right before dreams overtook her, she heard a voice whisper in reply.

"I love you, Cold Case."