The Case
My cigar smoke mixed with the smoke of my shotgun. The hole in his head was smoking too. But he didn't complain. Mannequins never do, somehow. A bell rung, a tinny sound. I liked that sound. It always brought two things back into my life, and they were both cold and hard. I liked the money. The bodies of criminal masterminds, even more so. Hell, a girl's gotta make a living somehow. I opened the door and in walked trouble. Earth pony, as usual. This dame seemed different from most, though. A pink bowtie showed that she wasn't just another run-down Jane Doe who'd lost her purse along with something else those fillies all seemed to value these days. I'd lost mine as quickly as possible, and I've been taking it from others every since.
But this dame was a client of other sorts, hopefully. Her purse hung low and looked like heaven in leather. And when I saw a tear drippin' from her left eye, it sealed the deal. She was here for business and I was going to oblige.
"The name is Octavia. I heard you help people." A Canterlot accent tinged her voice, and I heard class. It sounded good. More importantly, it sounded like cash. It also sounded like a pony at the end of her line, desparate for the help she was so obviously begging for.
"You heard wrong. I don't help people. I did, once. But helping people doesn't pay the bills. So now, I only help your purse. That is, as long as it's helping me, Octavia,"
"I'll pay."
"Obviously, darling. You'll pay whatever it takes. Won't you? I can see it in those fabulous eyes of yours. You are simply begging for someone to 'take the case', as t'were." She looked like she might actually agree to this. And her desperation was very attractive. My wallet was practically squirming with arousal, and I liked it.
"N-no. Not anything, but a fair price, maybe." She stomped her hoof and looked down at me, as if she expected me to spill the beans on her crook right then and there. I waited for her to realize that if she didn't tell me what the case was, even a fabulous mind like mine wouldn't be able to see what her more mundane mind wanted me to do. And I waited for at least half minute. I liked that half a minute. I like anything so long as I'm not out of slugs. And right now, I was taking a shot with the mannequin again, but this one was alcoholic, and it was going to be hittin' me instead. But after a swig or two, I started to get a bit short on patience. I was Rarity, after all, the best private eye around.
"Darling, I actually do need to know who or what I'm trying to find for you." The gray pony blushed and jerked her head toward the door.
"U-umm. I was wondering if we could do this someplace a little more private." I'd heard mares ask me this before, and I usually ended up with a bit more than a bottle of bourbon when they did. And normally, invitations like this were well worth my time, but I was running short on bits right then. All I wanted was the case and the money.
"Sorry, babe. We discuss it right here, right now." I put my back hooves on the desk and leaned back in the chair. From this point onwards, she would have to be the one to do the talking.
The gray mare slammed her hooves on the table. "No. This needs to be private." I sighed and stopped filing my hooves.
"I'm sorry, darling, but I just can't follow you until I know precisely what I am getting myself into. I wouldn't want to soil my mane, after all." I smirked at this, remembering how prissy I used to be. These days, I washed a hell of a lot more out of my coat than dirt. It was all part of the job.
Octavia sighed. "I'm afraid that I have not been totally informed as to what your case is to be, madam. I am a simple messenger." she said, "I don't even have the security clearance for this kind of case." My cigar fell out of my mouth at this, the ash forming another dark spot on the carpet. As if the bloodstains weren't enough. But if the case required security clearance, that meant that this was a government job. And if the government needed to hire a private eye, that meant that they wanted this kept quiet, and they would pay outta the nose to keep it that way. No way could I turn down an offer like that. This mare was making me an offer I couldn't refuse.
I sat there with my mouth hangin' open like some dandy from Manehatten. Then I smiled and checked the pump on my shotgun.
"Lead the way, sister." I said. A dangerous grin lit up my face. Almost as dangerous as me. But not quite. After all, the grin wasn't hell in high heels.
Hell or not, that grin could still fell a minotaur at twenty paces. Or, I thought, with a smirk that stretched from Canterlot to Baltimare, a hot grey mare with fire in her eyes and and a knife cleverly concealed in her bowtie. Pretty sure she thought I missed it. But anyone who comes to see Rarity had better be packing heat. Those that don't aren't usually worth the time it takes to pick 'em up off the ground after I shove 'em there. But the government was different. Any government agent with a knife meant that I had made a true name for myself, so even the agency was afraid of me. Even if I was on their side. That, or this was a set-up. I sure hoped it was a trap. More fun. More danger. And altogether more fabulous an escape.
So I followed the dame. Ready for anything. Ready for everything. And I wore absolutely fabulous sunglasses, to boot.