Pinkie Pie, Private Eye

by Sib

I: Deadly Affairs

The Prancing Pony, that's what they've always called it. It's a silly name, if you ask me. What sort of awful false advertising is it to call such a dismal bar by such a dreary name?

I am often lost amongst the crowd there, a nobody swimming in a haze of smoke and cards. Sometimes ponies will recognize me, and they'll look at my arrival with either a spark of short-lived joy or a repulsive glare. They might say something, and I might respond with a monosyllable or a grunt of acknowledgement.

If a pony is especially bold, I might be approached from my lone table in the corner. They were always quiet, always slinking into the vacant chair with a wide-eyed stare and a soft word.

Tonight is one of these nights.

I'm sitting at my table, my hoof coiled around my precious glass of hard milk. The brim of my hat is dipped over my brow, shadowing my muzzle, but I can still see. A wisp of my pink mane tumbles down over my shoulder, resting gently against the coarse fabric of my faithful trench coat.

Lying at my heels is a special friend of mine, Gummy. I can feel his scales pressing against my legs. He's grown over the past few months, to the point where he's no longer a cute babe magnet. No, I know well that the alligator at my hooves is a loyal, true-blue killer. His newly budded fangs seem to almost glitter against the dimmed lights, serving as a constant warning that I'm well-protected.

I can see the bartender glancing over at me. His name is Joe, a fine stallion that's never given me any problems. He trots over to me with an easy grin. "Ya need another shot, Miss Pie?" he asks.

"Bit of a splash, sure." I lift my glass to him. "Anything new in the news?"

Joe takes the glass with a burst of magic, his horn humming as it strains to keep a grip on it. "Nothin' save for the usual with a few bad murders sprinkled on the sides. It's been gettin' bad, Miss Pie," He speaks in a low voice, leaning over so that only I can hear.

I'm just about to reply when the door is thrown open. The bell on it's frame jingles in announcement, and in stumbles a dame that I've known the acquaintance of for much too long. With a mane and tail the color of cotton candy and a face that could stop a funeral in its tracks, Fleur de Lis was a mare worth looking at.

Her coat is quite ruffled tonight, and her eyes are frantic. Set against the smooth white of her back is a long cut, sliced down from the nape of her neck to the dimple above her haunch. It's not bleeding. I know Fleur. No matter the case she would have surely cleaned the wound before going outside with a bleeding cut. It was just the way that her mind went.

She spots me in my corner, and her drooped posture straightens up slightly. Slowly, she approaches.

Joe takes the hint and leaves, my cup trailing behind him in a cloud of cream tinted magic. I can hear Gummy underneath the table, his growl low and menacing as Fleur slides in the chair in front of me.

"Pinkie," she coos. "it's been too long, hasn't it?" Her eyelashes flutter in the way that all dames flutter them. She probably thinks that she looks knock-out gorgeous when she does that, but to me it only makes her look desperate.

"That's quite an injury you're sporting, doll," I say. "Where did you get it? Lover's spat?"

"Goodness!" She puts a tiny hoof to her mouth. "What do you take me for, Pinkie? I'm above whores, and you know that."

I smirk. "I also know Fancy Pants and your jealousy towards his 'clients', if you will."

Even underneath a sheath of fur, I can see the blush on her cheeks. "You're despicable, as always. But I'm not here to chit-chat." Her eyes narrow as she glances to the ground, her lips curling in a sneer. "and could you please tell that reptile of yours to hush?"

"Quiet, Gums." I nudge the beast with my hoof and tip up the brim of my hat. "As for you, Fleur, you've never been one to blather. What is it that you need me to do?"

As soon as I say that, all of her flirting and mongering seems to cease. Fleur's expression turns dark, and all of that careless joy is stripped away like the unwanted skin on a slice of bologna. This is the model that I know, and to see the more ruthless side of her is almost comforting to me, because I know that she isn't lying.

My ears perk as she leans forward, and I can smell the thick perfume that's been dabbed onto her nose.

"Listen," she hisses. "I've been suspicious of Fancy for quite some time, you know that, but it's gotten to the point where action needs to take place. He's been coming home later and later, smelling of sweat and not in the mood for anything spicy."

I make no effort to hide my disgust. "I'm a private eye, Fleur. Domestic settlements are not part of my job description."

"Ah, but finding out the bottom of things is, am I right?" she says with a sly smile. "and this is something that I need to know the bottom of."

I sigh. Like it or not, the dame has a case, and it's not in my business to reject offers of work if it'll get me paid. Silently, I rummage through my coat pocket for a pen and paper. "Alright, Fleur. I'll play your game."

"Excellent." She sits up and lets her chin rest on the bottoms of her hooves. "I knew that I could count on you, Pinkie."

Waving a hoof, I pick up my pen and click it open. "Let's just cut to the chase, then. First off, how did you come by that cut on your back?"

Fleur's eyes close, as if in thought. "It was mostly my fault, really. Fancy came home and I interrogated him over a suspicious stain on the edge of his collar. Next thing I know he's taking the kitchen knife and slicing me open!" Her eyes began to ebb with tears.

"I find it hard to believe that Fancy would assault you in such a manner," I reply, keeping my tone flat. There would be no use in getting needlessly angry with her, but I know Fancy. He has a position to hold up, and any lasting evidence of physical abuse would simply ruin his reputation as a 'very important pony'.

"You think that I'm lying to you?" Fleur asks, a hoof squished to her cheek.

"I think that you're exaggerating the truth, but we'll let that slide for now." I scribbled a note onto the paper, using my hoof as a hard surface. "Now, to go back to the stain you mentioned... was it lipstick?"

"Cherry gloss, to be exact," she says. "I can only assume that it's source is one of his usual party guests, the ones that he's always so chummy with."

"I see... mare or colt?"

"I couldn't tell you that, Pinkie dear." She shrugs. "And even if I could, would that help you any?"

"Any information helps," I stuff my pad and paper back into my pocket. "Either way, I think that I'll go to check up on Fancy for a while, maybe wring something out of him."

Sighing, Fleur let her head drop to the table's surface, her mane draping down to her lap. "I just want us to be more 'together' again. I feel like he and I have been drifting for so long." Her tears dribble from her eyes, and I can tell that they're genuine.

I put an awkward hoof to her shoulder as I get up. "I'll do what I can, Fleur, but don't think that me finding out who your husband is screwing is going to help your relationship. If anything, it'll probably make it worse if Fancy finds out that you're sending me out to snoop."

She leans into my touch, her cheek sensuously grazing against my ankle. "I know, Pinkie. Do you think that I'm stupid enough to come to you before going over my other options?"

A blush crawls over my face, and I'm grateful for the collar of my jacket to be covering it all up. "Frankly, love, I think that you're one of the sneakiest dames that I've ever met." I say, earnestly.

"I just don't want to live in a lie anymore," she says. "Partial affairs, maybe, but this... this has been going on for weeks!"

That settles it, then. While before I had thought that Fleur might be pulling me a fast one, I can see now that she's sincere in her concerns. If anything else, her case would give me something to do.

However, I end up leaving The Prancing Pony with a heavy heart. Gummy dogs at my hooves, his belly nearly touching the wet pavement as I walk into the night.

It's raining, yes, but I have a case.

Comments

[Regidar]

Damn son, Imma read the shit out of this.

[Ledomare]

Ooh, nice. Are we going to see Pinkie being Pinkie here, or is it an alternate thing where Pinkie is all smooth and suave instead?

Either way, I like the noir feel. Veddy nice.