//------------------------------// // Expected Call, Unexpected Reality // Story: Circumstantial Evidence // by Mad Hatter //------------------------------// Sun Shower had a hard day's (Night's, in this case) work from the Ponyville Fire Department. Crawling back into bed for the second time, the olive pegasus with the two-tone blue and green mane and the cutie mark of rain under a shining orb attempts to get a bit of sleep before work tomorrow. That nutjob Java. I'll never get anything else done fixing his screw-ups. Ms. Shower had been in the PFD for a little over two years now, having moved from Cloudsdale to Ponyville for convenience. She was good at her job. She was also perpetually single. Not for lack of beauty though; she had a lean, muscled frame (Though built for a mare), and her wingspan provoked the wings of many colts back in Cloudsdale to react of their own accord. The issue at hand was that she was a tomboy through-and-through. She could get a colt for a night if she wanted, but she wanted a stallion. Big Macintosh was one she kept an eye on for a while, but decided against it. He was a good, hard working stallion, but he was boring; too traditional for a mare that liked the occasional party. Besides, Fluttershy seemed to have a thing for him, and they were a better match in her sea-green eyes. So it was back to the bar scene on her days off. A small, somewhat rough pub on the eastern edge of town called The Charred Barrel. Pickings were slim (As in most of Ponyville, where single stallions of repute were scarce), but it had potential. Also, that local lush Berry Punch had a tendency to take the desperate colts off her more discerning hooves. Sipping an apple whiskey sour and surveying the scene, she found nothing of interest. Resigned to defeat for another few days, she headed home, seeing Berry leaning on a colt. Looks more like that colt had a fake ID. She's gonna get in trouble one of these days.. A hoof grabs her flank. She whirls around to find another colt, barely old enough to be there from the looks of it. “Heeeey babe, y'don't neeed ta' go home al-alonee.” This guy was wasted. “No, now get some sleep. You've got enough of a headache tomorrow without botherin' me.” she flatly replied. “Whassamatta? Ohhh, yer a filly-fooler ain'tcha? Caan't hand-dle a real stallion!” followed, along with a slap on the flank. She answered this with a backhoof to the muzzle. “Little shit, I said get lost!” She always did have a mouth on her. Fortunately she could back it up when needed. It didn't take any more than that to have the colt back off. “Iiii'm gonna tell all mah fr-*blaarg*”. The backhoof was probably the least of the head pains he'll have in the morning - not that he'll remember the lot of it anyway. She left the retching drunk to go home. The next morning she sat over toast and tea. A knock on the door was answered to the walleyed face of the mailmare. “Hey Ditzy, how's it goin'?” The question was met with a smile, if not an answer. Ditzy retrieved the mail from her saddlebags and deposited them into Sun's waiting hooves, and flew off again, almost looping at one point before she was out of sight. Shuffling through the envelopes, she likewise found nothing of note. “Junk, junk, junk. Damn, 'nother day of nothing.” was thought out loud as she tossed the collection of papers into a bin. Work was likewise boring, though that was a good thing. When one's job is putting out fires, a slow day means nopony got hurt from it. A mild surprise though, as Pinkie Pie was hosting one of her regular parties, which tended to end in property damage. The bad news came at the end-of-shift meeting. “Sun, you're on call tonight.” spoke the head of the PFD, a coincidentally red mare by the name of Flash Bright. It meant that Sun had to watch the drinking tonight during her search. Not that it mattered much. It was mostly drunken college colts again. Sun was just about to leave when she got word of a fire on the northern edge, near the Everfree forest. “Dammit! If it's that psycho Java again I'll tie him to one of his machines and kill him myself if he doesn't do it for me!” was bitterly uttered as she raced to the scene. Yep, it was Java's. She arrived at the scene with the skill of a powerful flier, and started working on the ring of fire that was carving a circular hole in the side of the workshop barn. When it was reduced to a couple of embers, she charged inside. “You in here?” she yelled into the space. No reply this time. Sun walked into the shop via the gap in the wall when she felt something stick to her hooves. Looking down, she noticed some red substance. Paint? she mused as she looked at the once-again wreckage of the automaton that was to be Java's assistant. She noticed protrusions attached to the machine this time, and looked around. That's when she realized that the hole from the previous fire a little over a week ago wasn't repaired yet, and the consistency of the liquid on the floor definitely wasn't paint. “Oh Celestia...”