Running Low on Fuel
Nopony said much after Big Mac stormed upstairs. All three of them had spent the rest of the sunlight sifting through the ash and gray. They, unfortunately, found nothing else in the graveyard of apple trees.
A lieutenant let them into the guard house. “What brings you here today, ladies? Hopefully nothing major?” he said, his eyes lingering on Applejack.
“We’d like to talk with Captain Spear Point,” Pinkie replied. “We’d… like to report a suspected…” Applejack saw Pinkie glance at her, “crime.”
“Call it—” Applejack started.
But the lieutenant grabbed his baton and interrupted her. “Is it ongoing? If it’s ongoing, we’ll go now and I can report to him later.”
“No, no,” Rarity replied quickly, nervously eyeing the baton, “it’s a completed crime that we’d like investigated.”
The lieutenant sighed and forlornly stored his baton. “His office is over here,” he said languidly.
The lieutenant knocked on a door with Captain Spear Point’s name written in obnoxious gold letters in the middle.
“What is it Lieutenant Nightstick? I’ve got a lot of paperwork to do before I go home tonight.”
“Crime to be reported.”
“Did you ask if it was ongoing?”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
“Let ‘em in.”
The lieutenant opened the door and they filed in to the cramped office. Paperwork littered the desk, but the smell of ink was oddly absent.
“What can I help you with today, madams.”
“Well…” Rarity began, “we believe there’s been an… incident—"
“Call it what it is,” Applejack growled.
Rarity flinched.
“We think my parents were murdered yesterday.”
“Ah, yes, the fire. So sorry about your loss. Though,” the Captain licked his lips. “I seem to remember hearing there was a monster responsible for their death. Something about a firewolf… or…?”
“The Pyrewolf,” Pinkie completed.
“That’s what we thought yesterday,” Rarity said.
“And you think differently today because…?”
“We found these.” Rarity put the tinderbox on the table and Pinkie, the cord.
“…Not sure I see what these have to do with—”
“It—“ Applejack shouted. She quickly cut herself off and lowered her voice. “It’s not our tinderbox. We—Rarity found it in the orchard where the fire happened.”
“And you know it hadn’t been there before the fire because…?”
“We know because—” Applejack said, “well, we don’t know, I suppose but—”
“What Applejack is trying to say,” Rarity interjected, “is that Pinkie assures us that—in her expert opinion—the creature we saw was a puppet.”
The Captain turned to Pinkie, who explained her reasoning.
“Well,” the Captain said, “I can see how that might appear puppet-like. But I’ve seen a Timberwolf or two in my day. They seem pretty mechanical and stiff when they move too.”
“No, they don’t,” Applejack said firmly. “I’ve lived next to the Everfree my entire life. I’ve seen Timberwolves every year at Zap Apple season. They’re not stiff. The wood bends when they walk.”
Spear Point humed. “I…” He rubbed his neck. “Listen, I understand why this might seem like hard evidence, but what you’ve got here is a rubber cord that one pony says means a giant weird monster is actually a puppet. The Everfree is poorly understood. Not to mention, there’s not really anypony who hates the Apples in town. Maybe a few arguments and grudges, sure, but nothing that goes far enough to justify murder.”
Applejack’s tongue caught in her throat.
“Really Captain," Rarity fluttered her eyelashes and spoke with a sultry voice, “you going to leave a helpless lady all on her own?”
Applejack glared at Rarity, but didn’t say anything.
“My hooves are tied.”
“So what?” Applejack shouted, “you’re just going to—to—to ignore this?”
“Unless you can give me any concrete evidence or direction for investigation, I’m afraid I can’t send men into that deathtrap.”
“You—you—” Applejack’s mouth ran dry, and she stormed out of the office. There was some silky voice behind her, but Applejack didn’t know what it said.
The lieutenant looked up from the book at his desk. He mumbled something to her.
“What a good help you are,” Applejack muttered, walking out of the guardhouse.
She tried to push the door but it wouldn’t budge. Against her will, it swung into her and she stumbled outside. The cool evening air shocked her before a hoof settled against her back.
“Are you alright, dear?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes it does, you—”
“What? Are we gonna find something else? Are we going to find something important again by chance? Or by flirting with the Captain?”
“Flirting is a perfectly acceptable way of gathering information,” Rarity said with a huff. “And we’re going to find clues intentionally.”
Applejack scoffed.
“Come along.”
Applejack noticed Pinkie Pie walking up alongside her. Pinkie gave her a soft smile as they walked along the path.
“Rarity, we—we’re not detectives.”
“We are now!”
“Wh-where are we even going.”
“We’ll convene at the Boutique,” Rarity replied. “It would give us enough privacy to determine suspects. We’re not going to figure out this case without a good discussion.”
“Why don’t we go ask at Rich’s Barnyard Bargains™ who recently bought a tinderbox?” Pinkie asked. “Then, we can use it to come up with a list of suspects!”
Applejack stopped in the street.
Rarity made a hard turn towards Filthy’s store. “I think it’s better if we read the list after we generate suspects, but we should probably have the list.”
“Girls,” she shouted. They turned back toward her. Pinkie gave her a soft smile, which didn’t quite reach all the way to her eyes. Rarity’s confident appearance was betrayed by a smudge from her eyeliner. Applejack said softly, “what are we doing? I—we don’t—we’re not going to solve an arson with a tinderbox and a bit of rubber.”
“Of course not, that’s why we need to investigate.” Rarity replied.
“No—” Applejack groaned. “You’re not listening to me. Just because you’ve been reading a lot of—of Shadow… Shadow Shovel novels—”
Rarity raised a hoof to speak.
“—or whatever his name is—”
Rarity lowered her hoof.
“—recently doesn’t mean we can solve a real arson—if it even is one!”
“We totally can,” Pinkie replied. “We don’t have to get everything perfect, we just have to give the guards a direction to investigate, remember? And if we actually do figure out the mystery, all the better.” Pinkie’s soft smile reached a little higher on her face.
“She has a good point, darling. Though, I won’t deny I love the idea of solving the mystery ourselves.”
For a moment, Applejack believed her.
She sighed and looked back at the guardhouse. “Alright, I’ll go along with it for now. But only because I think that Captain’s a lazy jerk who won’t do his job.”
“If you’re going to do something right,” Rarity replied, “don’t leave it to the guards.”
“Celestia knows they don’t help when a monster comes by.”
Filthy’s signature tone rang out as they entered the store. The enchanted puppet of Filthy had always seemed gaudy to Applejack. It rang out a repetitive tone in a mimicry of a pony’s voice.
Applejack thought it was a little gauche today.
The clerk looked up from the book he was reading.
“Evening, Felt!” Pinkie exclaimed.
“You’re here late,” Felt Cover replied. “What brings you here?” His eyes turned to Applejack. His face tightened and he suddenly sat up much straighter. “M-miss Applejack, what are you doing here? Mr. Rich isn’t here right now, he-he went home a few hours ago. But I’m sure—”
“We’re not here on business, Felt Cover,” Rarity interjected. She put her hooves on the counter. “We just want some information.”
“Well,” he swallowed, eyeing Rarity as she inched toward him. “I can’t give you proprietary information without Mr. Rich’s go-ahead, but I can give you whatever might help you…” he looked at Applejack, “make apples?”
“We’d just like to know who you’ve sold tinderboxes to recently,” Rarity said as she twirled her hair, “in the last… say… month?”
“That… that’s an oddly specific question. I can’t just give you—”
“My parents are dead,” Applejack said coldly. It was just loud enough to cut him off.
“I—I heard and—and I’m very sorry for your loss—”
“And we think they were killed.”
“I… I thought that there was a fire…?”
“Yeah, and we think somepony started it.”
Rarity held up the Tinderbox. “We found this in the remains. It’s clearly new, and we don’t think anypony else would have left it in that corner of the field. It’s… too convenient.”
“Well…” The clerk rubbed his neck, “I… I suppose you are Mr. Rich’s business partner. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind giving you this information. Let me check the log books.”
“Make sure to check if there were any stolen too,” Pinkie interjected.
“Good thinking, Pinkie,” Rarity replied. “Write it down; we don’t want to see the list until we’ve brainstormed some suspects.”
“Uh… okay, I guess.”
The silence of the next few moments was only broken by the scribbling of a quill. After a moment, Pinkie and Rarity started meandering through the shop. Applejack didn’t feel like looking, so she sat down and looked out the window in the front door. A loose nail dug into her side, but Applejack chose not to move.
Straight Books, Filthy’s accountant, peeked into the room. “Applejack? I thought I heard you.” He had on a sad smile, “Sorry about the… tragedy.”
Applejack grunted.
“Yeah… do you… um… know if Mr. Rich ever asked your parents about the missing apples?”
Applejack’s confusion must have been written on her face.
“The missing apples,” he replied. “Last month, I checked the apple stock and there were some missing. Filthy said he’d talk to your parents about it.”
“Now you listen here,” her voice was gravelly and slow, “my parents were honest folk.” Although she had stood up, she could still feel the nail against her thigh. “Apples are honest folk. They brought the produce right to Filthy, just like they always do,” she was shouting now. “So I don’t wanna hear about how they didn’t bring enough—”
Rarity started pulling her out the door. “Right, well, I think it’s time for us to go. Much to do, sleep to be had; Pinkie, would you be a dear and meet us at the Boutique when you’re ready?”
The bell rang on the way out. Straight’s eyes were wide and his mouth was taught. Felt ducked behind the counter. Pinkie gave her a soft smile and waved as they left.
Rarity’s boutique was dark as they entered. Rarity wiped her hooves and started down the hallway.
“I…” Applejack began. She wiped her hooves against the rug languidly. “I’m sorry I…” Applejack sighed. “I’m not even sure what to apologize to you for. Something, I think.”
“It’s quite alright, dear. Nopony will blame you for being irritable.”
“Yeah, well… it’s not good business practice to upset your purchasers.”
Rarity chuckled. “I’m going to put some tea on for us while we wait for Pinkie. Do you have a preference today?”
“Maybe I should apologize for embarrassing you in public like that.”
“Nothing of the sort. Tea?”
Applejack made a grunt as she walked over to Rarity’s sitting room.
“Earl Gray it is, then.”
Applejack sat down on Rarity’s fainting couch. It was surprisingly comfortable when Rarity wasn’t acting melodramatic.
A toy puppet lay on the other end of the couch. It’s still, lifeless eyes forced Applejack to look away after a few moments. Her eyes rested on Rarity’s sewing machine. It was nicer than her mother’s. Pear Butter rarely sewed, usually only bags and tarps that split at the seams. Rarity’s needlework, by contrast, never frayed.
Applejack heard the front door open.
“Applejack’s in the sitting room, dear. I’ll be in soon with some tea.”
Pinkie sat down on armchair across the tea table from Applejack.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine… I… I wanted to apologize…” Applejack paused.
“What for?” Pinkie asked softly. “Being unhappy right now?”
“I… don’t rightly now.”
“Never apologize for being unhappy about this.”
Applejack stared again at the sewing machine.
“Hey,” Pinkie said. Applejack turned to face her. “You don’t have to do this. Rarity and I can handle doing this and we won’t stop until we find out what happened. If you need time before you’re ready to do this—”
Applejack shouted, “I’m not—“ but stopped herself. She looked down at her hooves and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I… shouldn’t have gotten angry at you. You’re just trying to help. But, I don’t want to stop. I… wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I don’t find out… why they’re gone.”
“They would. Forgive you, I mean.”
Rarity entered with the tea set in her magic, bringing some crumpets with her. Rarity poured the tea for each of them on her way to sit on the couch, placing the cups in their hooves.
Pinkie started drinking; she never had trouble with temperature. Applejack stared into the liquid, waiting for it to cool.
“Well, let’s get started?” Rarity pulled over a pen and notebook. “Who wasn’t on good terms with your parents. Or the Apple family in general?”
“Well… I mean, like the guard said, not really anypony. But…”
“But?”
“Well, I guess Strawberry and I argue a lot. But… I don’t think she’d do anything like this.”
“A suspect is a suspect. We’ll eliminate them when we get far enough along.”
“Didn’t you say yesterday Filthy was trying to buy the farm?” Pinkie asked. “Maybe he wanted to convince you to sell or something.”
“That doesn’t sound like—”
“Ah-ah. No bad ideas until we’ve done all our brainstorming.”
“But—”
“Oh, isn’t Bosc in town still?” Rarity asked. “The pears had that rediculous feud with the Apples.”
“Well, yeah, but…”
Rarity fluttered her eyelashes at Applejack.
Applejack sighed. “But nothing.”
“Good.” Rarity hummed. “Any land disputes recently?”
“No, not since the Pears moved to Vanhoover. The Carrots are amicable, and nopony owns the Everfree.”
“What about disgruntled customers?”
“Only Strawberry seems to hate apples even close to that much.”
“Yes, but any customers feeling mistreated?”
“No, never. The Apples are always honest with their produce.”
“Surely there must have been somepony. Everypony gets a disgruntled customer now and then.”
Applejack thought for a moment. “Not in my memory.”
“Well then… maybe… any disgruntled lovers? Of… Big Mac… maybe?”
“If Big Mac had one, he never told me. And he won’t tell me for this.”
“Pinkie, do you know anything about his romantic life?”
“Why would—”
“Since I’ve been here, he hasn’t had anything resembling a date at Sugarcube Corner, the Hay Burger, or Café Hay.”
Applejack couldn’t figure out how to respond.
“Caramel, Texas Style, and I sometimes get coffee and gossip about who’s dating who at which restaurant. Caramel’s money has always been that Big Mac would go on a date at Hay Burger.”
Applejack fidgeted on the couch.
Pinkie gave a sheepish grin, “sorry.”
“No, it ain’t you. Though, I definitely know where not to go on a date if I’m trying to hide it from you.”
Rarity chuckled. After a moment, Pinkie squeezed the cushion on the couch next to her.
“I meant that as a joke, sorry.”
Pinkie gave a nervous giggle.
“Right, well,” Rarity said. “You can’t think of anypony else that might’ve held a grudge?”
“Nope.”
“Imagine everypony you know is the pettiest pony imaginable.”
“I’m already imagining that for Bosc and Filthy.”
“Well then, Pinkie, would you do the honors of showing us the list.”
“Drumroll!” she exclaimed excitedly. She began stomping her rear hooves on the ground with a smile. She pulled a sheet of paper from her mane and read. “Tree Hugger. Also there was a Tinderbox missing.”
“Well… I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything better. You don’t think Tree Hugger disliked the Apples?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Ma went to go visit her about a month ago, but I don’t know why.”
“Did she seem unhappy when she came back?”
“Not really… maybe a little… pensive? I guess? But she wouldn’t tell me why.”
“Well, I guess we have our list of suspects then. Any thoughts on who we should talk to first?”
“We can’t just go up to them and accuse them of arson, Rarity.” Applejack said flatly.
“No, but we can discreetly ask them what they were doing around that time. Maybe we’ll tell them we’re writing a eulogy for their funeral.”
“I don’t want to lie to them, Rarity.”
“You won’t. I will.”
Applejack didn’t feel like that was much different, but didn’t say anything.
“You had some feelings about Filthy and Bosc, AJ?” Pinkie asked.
“Filthy’s a good family friend. He eats our food, we eat his. I don’t think he’d do anything so… ugly. He wanted to buy the farm, but he’s our business partner. He wouldn’t want to jeopardize that.”
Pinkie nodded along.
“The Pears never liked us, but ma was still a Pear. Even before the marriage, there wasn’t any intentional vandalism or anything. Pa… pa flooded their farm on accident, but he spent a lot of time fixing up their silo and farmland. Not to mention they’ve been gone for almost two decades now.”
“Hmm… well, I suppose we can start with Strawberry then. But I won’t cross them off the list yet.”
“So what, meet tomorrow morning?”
“It might make sense to wait until after you’re done apple bucking.”
Applejack shook her head. “We have to go as soon as we can, if evidence gets destroyed and we can’t prove anything, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Well then,” Rarity said with a clap, “we’ll meet at Sweet Apple Acres. The strawberry fields are closer to the orchards anyway.”
What do guards actually do in this universe? Who could've done it? Who would've done it? Does Applejack even like tea? Or does she just drink it to be polite? Find out in the next exciting update!
For any guesses, be sure to put on spoiler tags for anyone who finds this after you!
If you find any perceived errors, please send me a message! Other kinds of criticism are appreciated in the comments 
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haha, love the bureaucratic awkwardness of this and the lieutenant interrupting earlier
ehehe and of course both of them had episodes of them being detectives
so true and gottem
so Filthy had enchanted puppets this whole time? really makes you think
aww but it’s so great when Rarity is acting melodramatic!
hehehe, and i bet that info goes straight into Pinkie’s dossiers as well
ooh now that is a connection i would like to know more about!
love this about them
11858596
I really wanted to emphasize this dichotomy between the two
lovebirdshere. I feel like cannon Rarity is perfectly willing to lie to do what she thinks is right, and Applejack is completely unwilling to. Here, it's a strength of their relationship.