The Canterlot Bureau

by Lapis-Lazuli and Stitch

Site Zero

Every person who signed on to the Bureau knew what Site Zero was, at least in theory.

It was built into the organization’s history, kind of like Roswell and D.B Cooper were for the boys at Langley.The result of a combination of superstition and grasping at the straws that came from facing something you couldn’t understand and had no way to logically explain. Every major government agency had these things, really. The only difference was in the details and how seriously everyone took the stories.

The basic idea was pretty simple - all of the strange threats and weirdness the Bureau had dealt with over the years had to come from somewhere. And since the most well known weirdness had happened at some specific place in town a whole lot of years ago, it stood to reason that there was a definable location all of these things had come from. A ‘gap’ in the security, a flaw in the system somewhere to explain why this stuff kept happening over the years.

Hence, Site Zero. The place you could trace it all back to, no matter how mysterious or ridiculous. Common wisdom held that if they couldn’t figure out where the monsters were coming through by beating them where they were found, they had to be coming from one place no one suspected. Common wisdom was usually a crock of horseradish, but that didn’t stop perfectly logical and otherwise intelligent men from holding it up as gospel. Women preferred their common wisdom to be more like a Maybelline commercial.

But that presented its own quandaries, none of which Lyra had good answers for. Instead, she had a stack of evidence that suggested that the statue in front of Canterlot high school was a one-stop trans-dimensional airport for every weird monster and bugaboo that had been plaguing this part of the world for the past century.

She could confirm that two dangerous things had been dumped here through that portal: Sunset Shimmer and the original three creatures who’d started this mess forty years ago. So who was to say this ‘Princess Celestia’ wasn’t using earth as her personal dumping ground for whatever problems she didn’t want to deal with personally? It’d hardly be the first time a monarch used a far away land to dump their problems on someone else’s dime.

The pile of papers on her desk were almost as damning as the Capone ledger. A fax sent in the dead of night from Vino’s own office, detailing the peaks and valleys of Bureau activity over the course of its lifetime, and it wasn’t good. Sure enough, every year a few weeks after the start of Fall were the busiest times for unusual activity. Correlation did not mean causation, but that wasn’t going to be much comfort to the Director once she got Sunset’s statement.

Bonnie laid curled up under the covers less than ten feet away, and Lyra already knew what she’d say. This was the only logical conclusion she had and she had to inform the Director of that. Nevermind what the consequences might be if she did, this was the job they had been hired to do. Maybe with this they could finally talk the FBI to let them come in out of the cold. Nationalize the program, get real resources and real authority again. Finally deal with these problems once and for all. Keep the people of the world safe from the monsters that went bump in the night.

What would come next was obvious. The school, maybe even the city, would be locked down. Anyone who could be gotten out would be gotten out by force if necessary. There’d be investigations, arrests, and Sunset Shimmer would undoubtedly be spirited away by men in black suits and mirrorshades. Never to be seen again, most likely. Her friends wouldn’t be too far behind if someone found those pictures Photo Finish had taken, and while Lyra might not mind Sunset getting locked up for the rest of eternity, seeing it happen to Applejack and her gang was another thing entirely.

Even if it didn’t get that far, there were going to be difficult questions for a lot of people she personally knew, and a lot of stuff would go down long before anyone had a chance to seriously think about the consequences. Oh, they’d say all the right words. Security, liberty, protection, doing-the-right thing. Maybe the Feds would be able to handle this quietly—Lyra knew the boys at Langley were perfectly capable of doing things the right way, but the government at large was not a precision tool. They’d roll in the National Guard, the NSA, and good-lord alone knew what else.

Yeah, all done with good intentions probably. And Lyra, being a good girl of Catholic descent, knew all too well where such good intentions could lead. Even if she wasn’t terribly good or terribly Catholic anymore didn’t mean she was about to risk this without being absolutely certain she knew what she was getting into. “Ly?” Bonnie said sleepily, lifting her head to scrub at her eyes. “It’s three in the morning, Lyra, what’re you doing up?”

Lyra looked over to the girl who’d been equal parts rival and best friend for the last decade of her life and tried to put on her best smile. “Just puttin’ the pieces together, Love. You know I don’t sleep real well on the job.” She closed the manilla folder and tucked it back into the worn leather accordion file that had once belonged to her Da.

Then she stood up and turned away, climbing back into bed. “Sorry,” she muttered to Bonnie, grabbing one of the spare pillows and hugging it close. “Jus’ tryin to figure out the right thing to do, Bon Bon.”

“You’ll manage,” Bonnie muttered into her ear, and the warmth of her not-really-a-partner was nice to feel at that moment. “Or we will, somehow.”

Yeah. Somehow.

Maybe it was time to talk to Da.

~~~~~~~~~

‘Da’ was her father, Sam “Shakedown” Rock as his friends called him. Built like a garbage truck and with more scars than an MMA fighter, he was also a good man and a pretty excellent father by all accounts. Even if some people thought teaching one’s daughter to break a man’s kneecaps with a ball-peen hammer was a trifle irresponsible, Lyra loved him anyway. He’d worked very hard to keep his past away from Lyra, but he’d promised to tell her the whole story someday.

Lyra was personally pretty sure he’d been some kind of gangster before her mother had scared him straight. She wasn’t positive though, since she’d always known him as a loyal agent of the FBI and proud patriot. He’d also worked for The Canterlot Bureau in the early 90’s, but that was something she wasn’t supposed to talk much about. He’d retired the same year Lyra had started high school, having apparently earned enough favors and respect for his pension to contribute nicely to the household funds. Nicely enough that Christmas was always a treat for herself and her lovely mother.

She found him doing what he did most of the time these days - working on refurbishing their modest home on the south side of town. Where he’d learned carpentry, Lyra hadn’t the faintest idea, but he had a knack for precision use of tools. “Da!” she called out, and he turned with a smile. He was missing a few teeth, but Lyra would swear his grin shone like the sun to anyone who asked.

“Well if’n it isn’t me little Lyra.” He waggled the power drill he was holding at her as he spoke, his voice ‘pure Irish gold’ as her mother had often put it. “Yer mother’s a bit pissed at’cha for dodgin’ dinner last night.” His grin didn’t fade one bit as he returned the drill to his work of putting up a slab of drywall. By himself. One handed. And people wonder why he never has to raise his voice to solve problems. “Somethin’ to do with that light show we had a few nights ago, maybe?” Da asked quietly between drywall screws, keeping his eyes focused on the sheet in front of him.

Lyra considered her options here and opted for Da’s favorite approach: the direct one. “Yup. Vino sent me and Bonnie out to shake the bushes. Things took a while so I stayed over at her place for the night.” She tucked her hands behind her back and leaned against what would be the new outside wall of their living room, once Da was done.

Da snorted softly, “Your mum is gonna lose her flippin’ mind if she catches you two at it again.” He gave her a very severe look while drilling in the last screw. “I know ye think it’s not a big thing, but she’s not goin’ to be patient much longer.”

Lyra just rolled her eyes. “Da, if mum kicks me out, I’ll manage. Bureau will take care of me. So long as you understand, I couldn’t give two shakes what mum thinks of me and Bonnie.” She spat on the ground to emphasize her point and caught Da’s proud smile before he masked it behind a facade of rebuke. Da was as bad of a Catholic as she was when it came right down to things, and she knew it. “You taught me to stand up for what mattered most to me, so here I stand.” And in a moment of pure pique, grinned and kept going. “For I can do no other, Da.”

Da sighed dramatically, tossing his drill onto its case and planting his meaty fists on his hips. “Don’t be quotin’ blasphemers at me, kiddo. My patience might be a mile if yer mum’s is an inch, but it’s still got limits.” He paused and chuckled richly. “Course, it might be my fault that yer as stubborn as a mule.”

“Learned it all from you, Da,” she cheerfully returned, then ran up to hug him fiercely around the middle. He returned the gesture gently, so gently that some people wouldn’t believe her if she’d told them.

“Stubborn little mite,” he grumbled softly, patting her head. “C’mon, cmon. I’m all covered with dust, don’t want to be gettin’ it all over yer nice clothes.” He gently nudged her away, brushing what dust had clung to her off with his hand. “Now, I know you love yer Da, but you’ve got the look of a girl with somethin’ on her mind.” He fixed her with a beady look and an excellently arched eyebrow. “So what’s the trouble? Got somethin’ big and nasty on yer trail ya need pounded flat?”

Lyra considered setting her Da upon Principal Celestia, but that would probably get her grounded if she tried. “Somethin’ more like I’m not entirely sure what to do, Da.” She kept her voice pitched low, looking up to him. “Things’re gettin’ might complex and I was wonderin’ if you could… y’know. Consult a bit.” She dug her heel into the dusty wooden boards and tried her best not to sound like she was asking for dating advice.

Da’s eyes widened and he held out his hand. She pulled the manilla folder from the accordion file and slid it to him gently “I’d hold your breath, Da. It’s a mighty big one,” she said quietly as his fingers closed around the folder.

He flipped open the file and began to quickly read, eyes scanning across the page with practiced efficiency. It took him ten minutes to read through the thing twice, a habit he insisted he’d picked up after messing up a job by misreading the address on a piece of paper. Supposedly an explosion had been involved, but he hadn’t been willing to say who he’d accidentally blown up.

After a while, he flipped the folder closed, his fingers flexing over the file for a moment. “Aye, it’s a mighty big one.” He spoke with the kind of reverence he generally reserved for church functions. He took a deep breath and handed her back the folder. “You’re worried about your friends, right? Applejack and them?” She nodded at him, hoping he’d understand. “God’s blood,” he whispered, rubbing his forehead slowly. “Never thought it’d be there. Never even thought to look there.”

She let him stew it out, knowing all too well that her dad’s brain was like a grain mill. It ground slow and fine and rushing it only produced crap for flour. “Alright, alright,” he muttered, then nodded to himself. “Never easy these ones, but I think we can navigate this storm. I’ll have to make a few calls, call in a few favors.” He pointed at her with a fat finger. “But you’ll promise me you won’t lose your temper with the Director, because the answer to this ain’t gonna be somethin’ you’ll enjoy.”

Lyra didn’t much like that, but of all the people on earth she trusted, Bonnie was number one… but Da was number two. “Alright,” she nodded, trying to keep the edge off her voice. She lifted a finger to point back at him. “But I swear to ya, Da’. If one of my friends gets hurt because of this, you and I are gonna have unkind words.”

Da held his hands up, palms forward and smiled. “Trust me, little love. The absolute last thing I want is anyone gettin’ hurt.”

~~~~~~~~~

The call came in the next day, on her own personal cell phone no less. “Agent Heartstrings,” a hard-edged, serious business voice spoke as she thumbed on ‘answer’. “It seems you’ve stirred up quite the hive. I haven’t gotten a phone call like that from Shakedown in years.” The voice - feminine - sounded almost amused. “Brought back good memories, fortunately for you. Bring your file and your partner to Sugarcube Corner in one hour.” With that, the phone went dead, almost instantly. Less than thirty seconds of speech.

Lyra’s blood ran ice cold as soon as she put down the phone. Only one person on the planet talked to her quite like that, and she was supposed to be up in New York doing something very important for the Bureau. Bonnie looked at her with puzzlement until Lyra held the phone up to her. Bonnie’s eyes went wide, then narrowed. “Well, that’s certainly not something you see every day. Do you think this is intentional?” She glanced right into Lyra’s eyes, the question all business.

Lyra bit at her lip. “I don’t know. Vino said she doesn’t use her real cell for anything short of a catastrophic emergency. I think we’d better get our act together and get over there.” She glanced at the paperwork sitting accusingly on her desk. “Bonnie, I…”

“Shut up, Lyra,” Bonnie said quietly, grabbing the accordion file with one hand and her keys with the other. “It wasn’t a bad play, your Dad is is a sharp guy. But the Director is obviously just a little bit sharper.” She took in a deep breath and smiled. “Look, you know how this works. Stay calm, keep it logical, and she’ll hear us out.” Bonnie was already slipping into her shoes. Going out shoes, not business shoes. “She might murder us afterward, but at least she’ll let us try to explain.”

Well, Sugarcube Corner was hardly the place for cheap suits and shoulder holsters, Lyra supposed. She still might’ve felt safer with a .45 and a bulletproof vest, but you went to battle with the army you had. She tucked her hair behind one ear, took a quick glance in the mirror to put in her favorite hair bangle and followed Bonnie out the door.

Sugarcube Corner was maybe a two block walk, but Lyra had no idea what they were walking into. “Bonnie you should get the…” She trailed off as Bon Bon disappeared into the side door of the garage. She rolled her eyes, but only long enough for the garage door to swing open and for Lyra to gawk at what pulled outside. She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice as Bonnie hauled the Crown Vic out of the garage with a roar of its engine and swung out to park by the street side. “You’ve seriously been driving that all week?”. Even if the lights and prisoner cage was gone, the reinforced front and rear bumpers were still mounted, and the thing still purred like a lion.

Bonnie grinned at her, a sight Lyra rarely got to see. “Delta station’s closed for repairs, Ly. Now get in. At least if we end up having to run, we’ll have something nice and speedy to run in.” Lyra considered this information for a few seconds longer than she usually would, but climbed into the passenger seat anyway. Bonnie wasn’t the kind of person who advocated running from her responsibilities, so either Lyra was getting into a car with a doppelganger, or Bonnie was really worried about what was about to happen.

Sugarcube Corner was quiet at this hour of the day, even on a Saturday. After the lunch rush and before people stopped in to pick up dessert for dinner, Mister and Missus Cake were cleaning up crumbs and bouncing their two kids around behind the scenes at Sugarcube Corner. The only customers were Mr. Biceps catching up on his reading, and a flame-haired woman in a bespoke suit lounging in one corner with her back to the wall.

She turned her head at their approach and smiled very professionally, teacup in hand. She said nothing, only gave a come-hither gesture and sipped slowly. Her emotions were hidden behind the mask of her aviator sunglasses and professional seat. No sign of heavies, no bodyguards. If this was some kind of bust the Director obviously didn’t think she needed overt backup for it. That was good… but also bad, since the backup you didn’t see were often the ones with sniper rifles and codenames like ‘Dagger’.

Bonnie led the way with a smart, brisk walk. “Could I trouble you for a coffee, Mrs. Cake?” she asked quietly, glancing at her for a moment before continuing. “And Lyra’s favorite tea, please.”

Mrs. Cake beamed at the pair of them, bustling around behind her counter while Lyra kept walking to the table. “Tea, Director?” she asked lightly, setting her handbag on the table with an audible thump and cocking an eyebrow at her. “As I recall, you told me you’d start drinking tea the day the Union Jack was flying over the White House.”

The director’s lips parted for a slight grin. “My doctor tells me I need to lay off the caffeine after surgery, and it’s better than taking up smoking again.” She sipped slowly, then made a face. “And If I don’t keep my doctor happy, my husband swears he’s going to lock me up.” She shook her head, setting down the teacup. “Nice to see you too, Agent Heartstrings. I hope this was worth the overnight flight.”

“Surgery?” Lyra asked, glancing to one side to see Bon Bon picking up their paper cups. “That sounds like a story.” She wanted Bon Bon here for this, no matter how things went down. Besides, hot tea made an excellent distraction in an emergency. “How was that thing with the Assyrian god going?

“Babylonian this time, actually.” Director Spitfire said, still ice-cool and calm. “Doctor Spengler sends his regards and says the invitation to come up to New York still stands.” She smiled at Bon Bon as she sat down, crossing her hands on the table. “Agent Drops, a pleasure. And now that your partner is here, can we do this? Shakedown doesn’t make priority calls for nothing, and you’ve both gotten me a bit nervous.”

Lyra glanced at her bag before pulling the leather file out. The director’s smile fractured a little, faltering to a frown as Lyra slipped out the manilla file and slid it quietly across the table. “Is this about your assignment?” she asked in a low tone, flipping over the file top and starting to scan it.

“All of our conclusions are in there, Director,” Bon Bon said quietly, folding her hands around the coffee cup. “I want you to know that I agree with Agent Heartstrings that in spite of our discoveries, this is a matter which requires the utmost discretion. We wished to report directly to you.” Bonnie was almost as calm as the director, but there was a nervous tick in her hands, squeezing the cup a little too firmly.

The Director’s smile returned just a little. “And you two hoped you could talk me into some kind of better solution than Vino would accept, I take it.” She kept flipping through the paperwork, reading every line thoroughly. “Nice to see you’ve got your father’s eye for detail, Heartstrings.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Lyra cracked, her throat gone dry from worry. She sipped at her own tea, a nice strong English breakfast blend she found was good for her nerves. It was wicked hot, but the mild pain in her tongue wasn’t enough to break her concentration.

A silent few minutes passed by as the Director’s emotions flickered from her cool outside demeanour to astonishment and narrow anger. Lyra carefully recited the rules for close quarters combat against a superior foe in her head, sipping her tea as slowly as she dared given the circumstances. It was tense, but at least she hadn’t lost her head in panic.

The director flipped her manilla file shut and leaned back into her chair, slipping off her sunglasses to rub at the bridge of her nose. She said nothing at first, waiting until she’d replaced her sunglasses to speak. “Nothing like being beaten over the head with your silver lining.” She slapped the file with the palm of her hand, growling. “Forty five years, and how do we find it? Because someone from another world does our job for us.”

Lyra knew time was of the essence, but the director cut her off with an upraised palm. “Lyra Heartstrings, I don’t need to hear it. I know what you’re gonna say to me, and I don’t need a guilt trip on top of this crap.” She slumped back, exposing her shoulder holster for a moment before she jerked her suit coat to cover it. Bon Bon glanced at her then nudged her coffee cup across the table in front of the director. She glanced at the cup, arching an eyebrow at Bon Bon.

Bonnie smiled at her. The director laughed, just once, then grabbed the cup and took a long pull from it. “Ahhhh.” The Director smacked her lips once before dropping the cup back to the table. “As it happens, I probably don’t disagree with you, Agent. This is a quagmire we’re facing here.” She drummed her fingers atop the file, looking pensive. “But on the other hand, we can’t leave this intel just lying on the table either. I’ve got a responsibility to the Bureau and to a lot of other folks with irons in this fire.” The director bit at her lower lip for a moment, then spoke in a low voice. “I’m open to suggestions, girls. I’d suggest you make with them before I have to make a hard decision.”

Bonnie looked at her. So did the director. Lyra hated when everyone around her expected her to think fast. Well, what are her options? Either she goes Federal with this or- Hm. That’s a really, really depressing suggestion but it might buy us time to come up with a better one. “We can keep an eye on things there,” she spoke quickly, pressing her palms into the table. “Give us real authority. Get us some gear, some combat training, maybe some leverage with the principal. We can set up surveillance on the statue and everyone else involved. We’ll coordinate with a few others we can trust.”

She gave a quick glance to Bonnie, who was narrowing her eyes at her. She had to move fast before Bonnie started to lose faith and got angry at her. “Set up a kind of neighborhood watch. We can plug this hole without getting any of the alphabet soup involved.” She kept herself calm, level, and pitched her voice low. “No one will think twice about students hanging around for extra-curricular activities, and if we can get that house for sale across from the school…”

The director was smart. She picked up on Lyra’s lead right away. “We can keep a monitor on the place no matter what. Maybe see if we can tie it to these incidents.” The director was nodding slowly, a slightly wicked grin on her face. “I might even be able to convince our friends at Langley to contribute a few dollars to the cause if they don’t need to officially get their hands dirty. Especially with all this ammunition you just handed me.” She tapped the file. “Not a bad idea, Heartstrings.”

The director adjusted her aviators and leaned back. “Okay. I’ll make you two a deal. You carry out this little plan of yours and see if you can’t start putting a lid on the activity in this area once and for all. Manage that, and I’ll make this your turf.” She flicked her fingers into the air. “Of course, that leads to the next complication.”

Lyra felt a pang of nervousness, but it quickly abated as the director continued to talk. “Normally we wouldn’t promote kids of your age, but you two are a known effective team and you’ll need some titles if you want to push local law enforcement around. I’ll see about getting you some actual authority so you don’t need to phone me every time you need to slap cuffs on a boogieman.” She leaned across the table, flexing her fingers into a bridge. “But I’m going to tell you right now, if things continue to get more out of hand here, I’m going to have to take measures none of us will enjoy. Am I clear on that?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Lyra said smartly, and Bonnie echoed her a moment later.

“Good.” She nodded decisively, standing up with manilla folder in hand. “I’ll be in touch.”

She turned to leave, but not before smiling at both of them and speaking as she walked. “Oh, and let me formally welcome you to the Bureau of Special Investigations, Special Agent Lyra Heartstrings and Special Agent Bon Bon Drops.”

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