The Alleys of Ponyville: Short Stories from the Noireverse

by PonyJosiah13

Down on the Range

The .38 Official Police revolver barked in Wheellock’s hoof, its retort muffled by the earplugs in her ears. Twenty meters away, a hole the size of a marble appeared in the forehead of the paper silhouette target, a feather’s breadth to the left of the center. She fired off the rest of her rounds at a steady pace, exhaling with each squeeze of the trigger. The gun kicked firmly with every shot, and the hole in the paper target expanded to slightly larger than a bit.

“Hmm,” Wheellock mused, shaking the empty cartridges out of her chamber and sweeping them into the garbage bag next to her. “Front sights are off a bit.”

She set the revolver down and started carefully adjusting the front sights with her multitool, tweaking it to the right a little. Three booths down from her, a pegasus stallion stepped away from the booth, unloading his weapon and taking off his safety equipment. His partner, a tall blue earth pony who had been standing behind him, slapped him on the back heartily and they exchanged traditional testosterone-laden friendly taunts and jabs. The two walked off, already talking of plans for grabbing a few ciders later. As they passed by Wheellock, she felt the pegasus’ gaze trace over her hind legs and flank, his step never slowing.

Wheellock sighed. Bad enough that she was a young, pretty mare in the force, she was the young, pretty inexperienced mare. The one that all the stallions would glance at as they walked past, the one who would always get the proposals for a romp in the hay, the manner of which ranged from clumsy and shallow to sleazy and arrogant. How many times would she have to repeat “I’m gay” like a broken record before they started believing it?

A bitter sigh escaped her. She’d honestly mind it less, she thought, if it wasn’t the only attention she’d been getting for the last couple moons. Her superiors mostly ignored her unless she did something seriously wrong, in which case they’d bark at her for a few minutes like angry dogs then resume ignoring her. Her colleagues also regarded her as seemingly beneath their notice. The rotation of partners that she’d gone through had all regarded her with the same stony silence. Beats had turned into hours of torture as they patrolled the sidewalks, never speaking to one another.

Maybe she’d like to go out for a few drinks after work! Or just have a friendly chat while walking the beat! Did any of them ever think of that? Did…

Wheellock suddenly realized that she had moved the sights way too far to the right. With an irritated grunt, she began to correct her mistake.

“Nice shooting,” a male voice said behind her.

Wheellock turned and saw a gold-coated griffon behind her: the rangemaster, she recalled.

“I haven’t seen a grouping that tight in years,” the griffon said, nodding at the paper target. He held out a claw. “Sergeant MacWillard.”

It took Wheellock a second to realize that this was actually happening. He was looking her in the eyes with a steady gaze and a small smile, his gaze never wandering to try to trace her flanks, and the talon he was extending was the very picture of a friendly gesture. She almost forgot to shake the offered limb. “Officer Wheellock, sir,” she nodded.

“No need to sir me here,” MacWillard grinned. He reeled in the paper target and replaced it with a fresh one. “You fix those sights?”

“Yes, sir,” Wheellock nodded.

“What did I just say, Wheellock?” MacWillard said, raising an eyebrow.

Wheellock cringed. “Sorry.”

“S’all right,” MacWillard said. He reeled the target out to the twenty meter marker. “Show me.”

Wheellock blinked. “Um...now?”

“Well, at least before my shift is over,” MacWillard said dryly, though a smile tugged at the corner of his beak.

Wheellock looked at the target, then at MacWillard, who gave her an encouraging nod. She swallowed and reloaded her pistol with her magic. Snapping the chamber shut, she stepped into her shooting stance.

Wheellock took in a slow breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled it. She forgot that there was someone watching her, judging her. She forgot about the range, the sounds and smells of other ponies, the chatter in the background of her own mind. She forgot about everything except the target and the gun in her hoof.

She inhaled and raised her weapon, then held the breath in her lungs as she aimed, aligning the sights with the center of the silhouette’s forehead. She exhaled slowly, steadying her aim, stilling her mind. The slow beat of her heart sounded against her chest: once...twice...now.

She squeezed the trigger and the .38 kicked once, letting out a sharp clap. A hole appeared in the silhouette’s forehead, and she felt a thrill of victory. She inhaled once more, allowing herself to savor the tingle, then released it on the next exhale, steadying her aim again. She fired five more times, emptying the chamber, then shook out the empty cartridges and placed them in the disposal bag. She reeled in the target to give it a proper examination.

Drilled directly into the center target was a hole no bigger than the size of a bit. Wheellock allowed herself a proud smile, puffing out her chest slightly as she turned to face MacWillard, who gave her an impressed nod and smile.

“Very good,” he said. “You a sniper?”

“No,” Wheellock shook her head. “I just grew up with guns. My parents own a gun shop in Fillydelphia, and they have a side business restoring old weapons. Plus, my uncle Flintlock used to give me lessons when I was old enough.”

MacWillard’s eyebrows raised. “Flintlock?” he asked. “As in Flintlock Rapidfire, the most famous trick shooter in Equestria?”

“The same,” Wheellock boasted, puffing out her chest even further.

“Bull. Shit. He’s your uncle?!” MacWillard gaped, his jaw hanging open.

“Yup. He taught me how to do his trick where he fans the hammer and shoots three coins in midair,” Wheellock boasted. She paused for a moment, suddenly feeling like a diver standing on the edge of a diving board high over a freezing pool. Words tickled the tip of her tongue, waiting to be properly formed. MacWillard was looking at her with his head tilted to the side, one eyebrow raised as he waited for her to continue.

Wheellock inhaled, then exhaled, then spoke. “I could show you if you want,” she declared with what she hoped was a convincing smile.

MacWillard frowned. “Not in my range, you won’t,” he said sternly.

Wheellock’s face fell and she nodded. “Right,” she admitted. “Wouldn’t be responsible—”

“But I’d be willing to let you show me somewhere else,” MacWillard continued. “There’s an empty lot right behind a bar I know on Flotsam, great place for some target practice.”

Wheellock looked up. The griffon was smiling at her, a genuine expression. Still his eyes did not wander; instead, they were focused on hers, hopefully awaiting her answer.

She smiled back at him. “Um,” she stammered. “I, um...I’m gay, just so you kno—” She covered her mouth with her hooves, a furious blush spreading across her face as she cursed her big, stupid mouth.

MacWillard chuckled heartily. “Well, I’m married, so fair’s fair. Meet up at eight?” He stuck out his claw.

Wheellock smiled back, her blush fading, and shook. “Eight,” she agreed. “I’ll bring the bits.”

“You’d better,” MacWillard grunted through a grin.

Author's Note:

MacWillard and Wheellock were initially meant to be no more than one-off characters, but they wound up getting used again a few times. So I felt that they deserved a little time in the spotlight, if for nothing else than to show off their relationship with each other.

Comments

[BirdsBooksBrownies]

If I was a stallion in this world I might try asking Wheel or Twilight or Carrot (Apple Pie's new cook) out on a date(a proper one that is), but if they said no, I'd be disappointed but I like to think that I would have enough respect for them to leave it at that.

[dystopia8]

I like the dynamic of these two a lot. This made me really like two characters that were otherwise forgettable due to how minor a role they play in the main stories.

[PonyJosiah13]

10632440
I originally just intended both of them to be throwaway characters, but they grew on me a little bit, so I promoted them to third-tier characters.