Author's Note

The Done and Bruises I promised for this chapter is cut, but not for good. As I wrote, it simply felt VASTLY too tacked on, as well as too vanilla. It'll appear in one of the next two chapters, substantially improved over what it would've been here, and with some content that should appeal to those who wouldn't enjoy just Done and Bruises having sex--a threeway with a mare so petite she's often mistaken for a filly.

Trust...

I woke to sudden pleasure, a startled squeak, and a giggle. I didn’t have to open my eyes to realize Jade was at it again. Ever since she’d started smelling smoke on me when I wasn’t using it, she’d been slowly getting more and more clingy in bed. On the rare morning I woke first, I usually found her muzzle just a hair from my face or neck, sniffing deeply with the biggest, most elated smile I could imagine on her lips. One day, I’d ask what she was dreaming about. This wasn’t going to be the day, though—I had things to do. Things I couldn’t do with a crystal pony nuzzling my crotch.

“You know the rules, Jade.” I put my hooves behind my head and waited. Having things to do didn’t mean I had to rush.

“Yes sir!” The exclamation in Jade’s voice as she started to lap up the (significant) mess she’d caused was obvious, but it was still just a bit off, as if Jade were still dreaming. It was like that every morning now—if she’d been smelling the smoke on me while I slept, it took a bit of separation for that weird, sleepy happiness to fade. On one hoof, it was starting to worry me a bit. On the other, having a beauty like Jade act that way for me… I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a turn on. I let it go and turned my attention to the day ahead. Jade’s work took some of the edge off.

I was due to check in with Desert Rose and the Trotties at last. It’d been several weeks since Vinyl’s show, much less since the showdown with Born Leader. Once in a while, a pony showed up from the Trottie’s territory, saying this pony or that pony was starting something, and wanted the investments I’d promised. I was realistic about my returns—they’d be a long way off—but only an fool gives out money without keeping an eye on it. My seeds wouldn’t be growing yet, but I wanted to see how they were being planted. Jade’s tongue did wonders for keeping my stress levels down as I considered the possible headaches meeting with Desert Rose could bring. Power struggles, demands for more money, outright attack. Despite all that, thanks to Bright Jade, I was smiling as I decided to bring Bruises along.

When Jade finally moved away enough for me to get up, I sighed and swiveled my hind legs out of bed, handling my morning tasks with a bright green shadow. Bright Jade had learned to keep out from underhoof, and I’d given up on telling her I really didn’t need anypony to hold the toothpaste. Allowing myself a resigned sigh at the idea of a business meeting with thugs, I headed for the door to the office, and Jade dropped my fedora on my head. As I stepped through the door at the bottom of the stairs, I found that I’d been outpaced by Day Planner once more. In the middle of my office, spreadeagled on her back lay Bruises’ massive form.

I nodded and offered Day Planner a good morning smile as I walked past my bouncer as if she weren’t even there. “Gee, Day. I sure hope Bruises isn’t dead over there. I was gonna take her with me today.” From behind came graceless thumps as Bruises rolled to her side and clambered up on her hooves in a hurry. Day Planner allowed herself only a backward glance and the slightest twitch of a corner of her lips.

“Booooss!” Bruises’ plaintive whine followed her clambering, and I spun and feigned shock at Bruises’ sudden “recovery.” As much as she towered over me, her childlike demeanor only encouraged the teasing.

I narrowly managed to keep a straight face as I staggered backward, deliberately bumping Day Planner at her desk. “Woah, she’s alive again!”

Bruises sighed with exasperation, and Day with frustration. “What do you mean ‘again?’ I was alive the whole time! You just take too long in the morning! It’s boring!” Doing my best to contain a laugh, I reached up and patted Bruises on the withers.

Just as I was about to apologize for teasing, Day’s voice came from behind over the sound of an eraser. She was clearly annoyed. “He can’t get out of bed without getting his rocks off, Parapet. You should ask Bright Jade to move faster.”

Bruises’ eyes widened, and the whining resumed. “Awww! I’da helped!”

Day Planner looked up from her work just long enough to shoot me a far too meaningful glance. “Perhaps I’ll remember that next time, Parapet, and send you up.”

I felt my ears flatten against my head under the hat, and narrowly avoided wincing. “Uh… let’s go, Bruises! Lots to do today, long walk and all!” I scooted myself past Bruises and out the door, double time. I could swear that I heard Day laughing behind me as I did.

* * * * *

“Hey, boss. If you’re tired, I can let you ride on my back.” Bruises was right at my side, maintaining her pace so she didn’t get ahead, but there was an awful lot more energy in her canter than in mine. She was always in a good mood, really, unless something specific interfered with it. Always early for work, always excited to see anypony from the club. But not always trotting so her hooves scarcely touched the ground. Her enthusiasm still hadn’t gotten old, though.

“Thanks, Bruises, but I’m alright. It’s only been a couple of blocks, after all.” We weren’t even out of the entertainment district yet; buildings on each side were theaters, dance halls, upscale restaurants and the like. Even if I were tired already, enough ponies had seen me ride Bruises when she brought me back the day I hired her; I really didn’t need anypony thinking it was a normal occurrence.

Bruises looked just a bit deflated. “Oh. Yeah, we’re not that far yet, huh? ‘Kay, boss.” I gave her a smile, and kept walking along. She meant well, after all, but there was business to attend to. I enjoyed the atmosphere of Manehattan’s entertainment district more than anyplace else I’d ever been. Noisy? Sure. Gaudy? Yeah, but alive like nothing else—moving through it put almost as much spring in my step as Bruises had in hers. As we walked, my vision lingered just a second on a taxi with a cute mare in it, and Bruises pounced.

“Tired now, boss? You don’t need a taxi; I’ll still carry you!” I laughed and patted Bruises’ withers, wondering if she was still on about how great I was for giving her Vinyl’s shades. I couldn’t think of any other reason she’d be so determined to give me a ride. Well, maybe one, but I wasn’t her type. “I’m fine, Bruises! I was looking at the mare inside, not the taxi. I wonder if she can dance at all; she’s got an entirely different—”

“Oh.” Bruises cut me off, and seemed to lose more of her enthusiasm. She never interrupted me unless she was too excited to help it. If anything about her mind was still sharp, it was her ability to pay total attention. I frowned and kept walking, but this time her enthusiasm didn’t return.

“What’s the deal, Bruises? I know you said I’m ‘special,’ but I thought you preferred the mares. If I didn’t know better, I’d think—woah!” I staggered and caught myself after my entire rear half found itself swatted to the side by Bruises’ head. I looked back to find her ears flattened and cheeks flushed. Apparently I’d put my hoof in my mouth again. Maybe this wasn’t the best day to do important talking.

I double checked that the coast was clear, and nudged Bruises off to the side where nopony would bother us. “What did I do this time, Bruises?”

The big mare scowled and lowered her hindquarters to sit with a thump, before looking away. “Nothing.”

I facehoofed, sighed, and groaned all at once. Today was too important for this. “Something’s wrong, Bruises. C’mon.” I moved around to be in the direction she was facing, and she turned her head the other way again. “Quit being such a foal,” came to mind, but I settled on something far more effective—and embarrassing. I tossed my legs around as much of Bruises as I could in a big hug. “Vinyl’s gonna be sad if we don’t get along, you know. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Come on, what did I do?”

At the mention of Vinyl, Bruises’ head snapped back to face me. Sullen wasn’t the right word, but there was no doubt Bruises was forcing herself to talk. “You’re nice. Like… really nice. You gave me Vinyl’s glasses! Just gave them! There’s the smoke, so…” Bruises blushed again and skipped ahead. “It’s okay that you’re not a mare, ‘cause of that, and you’re always nice. So I wanna do… stuff for you, like Jade, and Day, and, uh… Hankie?” I squeezed Bruises as an excuse to bury my face and muffle laughter. If Deep Tissue heard anypony call her “Hankie…”

While Bruises couldn’t see my face, I allowed myself a brief wince. Twice my size and strong enough to throw me around isn’t my type, but how could I say that to a mare who just confessed she wanted me to have her? “Tell you what, Bruises. Sometime soon, if you still want it. You have a fillyfriend coming to you though, so don’t go falling in love with me!” Bruises seemed to miss the jab entirely, and hugged me until I felt bones creak. I couldn’t help notice, smashed into her that way, that huge and hard as rock or not, she smelled as girly as any other mare.

Before she could start embarrassing herself (or me) any further, though, I reminded her we had a task to deal with. Back in a sunny mood, Bruises let me go, and we continued down the sidewalk, past classy businesses with bright signs, street vendors hawking their wares on corners, and restaurants with delicious smells that slowed Bruises down two times out of three. As we got farther from The Tall Tail, though, the signs got less colorful, the hawkers less friendly, and the restaurants were nothing but abandoned husks. The trip was bringing us closer and closer to the part of town I’d pulled Bruises out of, and the deeper we went, the more Bruises’ happy trot changed. Neither of us wanted to show any kind of fear to the hoofful of hopeless looking ponies who still turned up as we walked, but while I managed that by keeping my gait unchanged, Bruises began to practically march. My companion went from childlike exuberance to the alertness of a soldier. I made a mental note to praise her later. After my first “meeting” with the Trotties, it was hard to express just how much better I felt with Bruises beside me.

The disrepair around us was oppressive enough that I was nearly relieved to see Whittle and a half dozen Trotties get up from old, weathered benches a block or so from our destination. Friendly or not, ponies who looked lively and alert were a step up. I offered a friendly nod to my “business partners,” but it wasn’t returned. With Whittle in the middle, half of the Trotties with her stepped to each side of us, only to give us a bit of breathing room when Bruises glared.

Whittle glared right back, but made no move toward us. “Oy, Deal. Wot’s th’ idea, bringin’ your brute out? You lookin’ to pick a fight?” I rolled my eyes at the bluster, ready to blow it off, but Bruises snorted angrily. The fact that the Trotties weren’t exactly friends didn’t make her any less of a sensitive soul, and I didn’t need her making trouble.

“Easy, Bruises. We’re all on the same side here, even if she doesn’t like it.” Bruises didn’t ease up any, but she kept a lid on it. “Your ponies here on both sides of me? That’s why Bruises is here, Whittle. Don’t act like you didn’t come with a small army.”

Whittle scowled deeper and narrowed her eyes, but the truth was the truth, and she was no Desert Rose—without the wit to retort, she wheeled on her hind legs and stomped toward the dilapidated hotel she’d taken me to weeks before. “C’mon then. Sooner ‘is rubbish is done, sooner you lot get out o’ my mane.” I smiled at my tiny victory.

Bruises and I fell in, ignoring the stallions and mares on either side of us, and they pretended to do the same—only to trip over a loose cobblestone or get caught peeking cautiously at us. I couldn’t help but smirk. Seven to two, and they were the ones on edge. All but one: a young pegasus, a peach colored mare with an orange mop of a mane. After the third time I caught her peeking in my direction, I offered her a nod—polite, nothing more. The mare’s face lit up, and she stopped walking to raise a hoof and wave excitedly. The broken tension was welcome, though the stallion behind her sure didn’t agree, and shoved my fan roughly to get her going again.

The waving mare cried, “Woah!” and staggered forward. Startled myself, before I could think, I had a leg out to catch her and keep her face off the cracked cobblestones. She barely touched it; a flap of her wings, and she was righted again. I might’ve been embarrassed at my failed chivalry, if Whittle hadn’t glared back over her shoulder at whatever was going on behind her.

“Knock it off, Pity! Cor, I don’t know why I let you come along. Surprised you didn’t bloody swoon at the sight o’ ‘im.” Grumbling about stupid kids, Whittle turned back toward the decrepit hotel, and the march continued.

I glanced to my right to check on “Pity”, and found her floating in the air with slow flaps of her wings, glaring back at the stallion who’d shoved her. When she realized I was looking, the set upon mare blushed and mouthed a silent thank you. I flashed her a quick smile and a nod, darkening Pity’s blush, and the march continued past the ramshackle and rundown surroundings last few minutes to the Trottie’s headquarters.

The old hotel looked even less appealing during the day. Paint was faded or peeling, signs were missing letters, here and there, I saw gaps in the outer wall, and from the look of it, one corner showed signs of fire damage, as if arson had been tried in the past. It would have to go, the whole building. Every building in sight, really but that goal was a long way off. I sighed and reminded myself to stick to baby steps as Bruises stepped in front of me. We headed in for round two with Rose. I could swear I saw a streak of white out of the corner of my eye as we did. I forced myself to forget about it; anything unexplained was only going to toy with my nerves then.

The ponies escorting us broke off one by one as we headed down different halls than last time, except for Whittle behind me and Pity behind her. It took some effort not to scowl at Whittle as she barked directions from behind, frog marching Bruises and me to our destination, a dirty old conference room on the second floor. I understood why the pack had broken off as soon as I was through the door. Rose had her own ponies in here. She and four large stallions sat around a worn out table These, at least, didn’t look ready for a fight. I silently hoped they were just part of the meeting, and stepped forward, about to offer a greeting when a slam and yelp came from behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Whittle with her back hoof still against the shut door.

Pity’s voice came from the other side of the door. “Ow, c’mon! That was my muzzle, Whittle!” I winced at the thought of a hoof-slammed door coming down on my own nose, and wondered why Pity put up with it.

“You’ve got no business in ‘ere, Pity. G’won, shoo.” The smile on Whittle’s lips gave her away: it wasn’t about business. I added one more item to the list of things that needed to go in the long term, and looked toward Rose, about to ask to let Pity in just to spite Whittle, but Rose was already talking.

“Oy, Whittle, ‘at’s a bit much. Peach Pit’s your sister!” The disapproval was as obvious in Rose’s voice as the sudden irritation was on Whittle’s.

“’alf sister, thank you very much!” Desert Rose shook her head, but tolerated the insubordination. I bumped my opinion of her up a notch for knowing not to quarrel in front of staff, remembering lacking that sense the night I’d used the smoke on Pirouette. I made a point of memorizing what I assumed was the pegasus’ real name, too. Somehow I doubted “Pity” was a friendly nickname.

Bruises was scowling again; either she was getting as sick of Whittle as I was, or she didn’t like seeing the one friendly pony we’d met abused. I opened the door for Peach Pit without bothering to ask permission after all; if it’d keep Bruises calm, it was worth it. Besides, it might be their turf, but at this point, there was a partnership. They needed to learn to make concessions. When Peach Pit saw me jerk my head to gesture her in, she smiled around the hoof she was using to rub her hurt nose and trotted on in, head held high. I could practically hear Whittle grind her teeth.

“You don’t mind, do you, Desert Rose? She’s one of yours after all, and the only friendly one in the welcome party.”

Desert Rose blinked, then frowned. “Whittle, I told you not ta ‘assle ‘im. Wot’s this then?” I faked an itchy muzzle to hide my grin. And here I’d thought Whittle’s crew had left just to keep out of the way of Rose’s ponies.

Whittle was obviously angry, but this time apologized respectfully. “…sorry, Rose. Just tryin’ t’keep safe, y’know?”

Rose sighed and shook her head. “’E’s not one of us, Whittle, but we’re workin’ together. Take it easy on the bloke.” Turning to me, Desert Rose nodded. “I don’t mind ‘er stayin’, Deal, if she keeps quiet. She ‘ardly talks about anything but you, since last time. You got yerself a fan, mate.” Rose nodded toward the stallion on her left. ‘E’s ‘ere if we need a gopher, Deal. These other three gents? They’re the three wot’re doin’ the best business so far. Mostly ‘ere t’listen. Let’s get to it, eh?”

I nodded and sat opposite Rose, at the end of the table. Bruises kept to my right, and Peach Pit flapped herself to my left as confidently as if she’d been invited, one wing brushing my side accidentally. I forced wings out of my mind nodded at Desert Rose. “Let’s. I want to be very clear from the start that I’m not expecting miracles here. I know it takes time to build a business, and you Trotties are at a disadvantage in this part of town. But only an idiot keeps making investments without looking after them. I’d like to know how the ponies who came to me for money are doing.”

Rose nodded. “Fair’s fair. Two up an’ run off with it, sorry to say. Caught one, an’ ‘e won’t be trying something so foolish again for a bit. As for the rest? New boy, give ‘im those papers I ‘ad you fetch.”

An earth stallion got up and snagged a stack of papers from in front of him, walking over to drop them unceremoniously in front of me. As he headed back, I recognized the cutie mark of bucking legs—Whittle’s partner the night she’d caught me. Apparently he’d been moving up since the last time I’d seen him.

Sliding the papers around to see several at once, I winced at the worst record keeping I’d ever seen. Of course it was horrible. These ponies didn’t know business; they knew robbery and assault. Suddenly, I was very grateful I had any information at all. “Right… not a pretty picture, but honestly, could be worse.” Half of the investments were at risk of failure within just a few weeks, but only one was a lost cause, and two were doing well—really well. I pushed those to the right, and the lost cause to the left. “This one’s a goner. I’m not putting any more money into it.” Whittle bristled as if I were betraying the Trotties entirely, so I talked fast. “These two, though—I’d like to double my investment.” One of the three stallions there on business frowned, presumably annoyed at being left out, but Whittle eased back into a sitting position. Rose, however, got to her hooves.

“’at’s all dandy, Deal, but ‘ere’s a problem. See, you promised us you were gonna open shop out ‘ere, an’ so far, neither ‘ide nor ‘air. I been tellin’ me Trotties t’keep to the edge o’ the slums. ‘Ponies wot ‘ave bits won’t come out this far, I tell ‘em.’ An’ they listen, mostly, but we’re just shoppin’ with our mates. Don’t do us no good, ‘avin’ our own bits floatin’ around, and no new comin’ in. You’re losin’ money on this too, mate. Money and patience. ‘It takes time’ is all well an’ good, but it’s gotta start, don’t it? So tell me, Deal. Wot’s your great plan? When are you plannin’ on throwin’ in with us proper?”

I sighed. Rose was sharp as a tack. I’d been hoping to weed out good from bad on small investments, then get the ponies who did well to move to better locations. When they made money, they’d want nicer things close to home, and step up improving the slum, with me taking a dividend on my investment and never risking my bottom line truly opening something up. Busted.

Time to pay the piper. “Got a map, Desert Rose?”

Rose blinked. “A wot?”

“A map, Rose. So I can find a decent spot, preferably close to some of these,” I tapped the large stack of poor performers, “so I drive some business their way.”

Rose nodded at ‘new boy’ again, and he took off at a trot. Rose sat, then turned back to me. “So you’re just gonna look at a map, an’ pick a place? Just like that?”

“No, Rose, but location counts. If there’s a building close to your folks with a good route to a better part of town, it makes sense to see what I could start there.” I sorted the papers in front of me for a good look at their locations, and Rose’s underling returned, unfurling a large, rolled map on the table.

“There ya go, Deal. Do your magic.” Rose leaned back, as if challenging me.

I stood and rounded the table, stifling a smile as Peach Pit’s eyes followed me. With a proper view, I took note of where the businesses worth supporting were. The one of the two I most favored, and number three were both on the same traffic circle, with others scattered around. Not helpful. Not helpful, but…

A few blocks past the traffic circle, in the straight shot past it from better parts of town, was a wedge shaped building. It could’ve been anything, but only one type of building I could think of really needed that shape. “What’s this?” I jabbed a hoof at the wedge.

Whittle answered, the scowl from Peach Pit being let in still on her face. “It’s an old theater. Stage kind, plays, song an’ dance, that rot.”

I cracked a smile. “Abandoned?”

Whittle clearly didn’t see what I was seeing, and what it looked like Desert Rose was slowly catching onto. The disdain in her voice was obvious. “Unless you count rats.”

My smile grew, ear to ear, and I started back toward my seat. I’ll admit it: I was strutting. “Perfect. Bruises, you were in construction. Know any company good for restoration work?”

Bruises opened her mouth to speak, but Whittle stood up faster, snapping, “You’ve gotta be kiddin’! ‘at’s your great plan? Wot the buck does a dusty old theater have to do with—”

Rose’s tone was cold. “Oy, Whittle. I’ve put up with a bit today, but you’re right on me last bloody nerve. Shut it.” I stared in surprise. Granted, I’d have told her to shut up from the start, but Rose had been playing it patient. It looked like as long as she liked what I was saying, Whittle had no real clout. Perfect.

Rose nodded at Bruises. “Go ahead, then.”

“Well… my… fourth to last boss used to live out this way, when he was a colt. He always said he wanted to get rich and fix his mom’s house up out here. Maybe he’d help, boss.” Bruises shrugged, and I shrugged back. The theater’s location was perfect. I couldn’t have it all, and a lead was better than nothing. If it didn’t pan out, I’d find somepony else.

Before worrying about restoration, though, there were other matters that needed settling. “Rose, do you think you could talk your other… entrepreneurs… into moving onto that circle?”

Rose frowned and spoke like I was the novice at this. “Oy, Done, these blokes’ve been doin’ it by the book, like you wanted. Rightfully buyin’ shops and all. You think it’s cheap, settin’ up, tearin’ down in two weeks, and settin’ up again?”

I shook my head, ignoring Rose’s tone of voice. “No, I don’t. I’m betting Born Leader didn’t die a pauper though, and you get your shops on that circle, or between it and that old theater, and you’ll make back what you lend them to move, and have favors to call in, or debts to claim, or however you want to handle it. It’s a smart move.”

Rose’s frown darkened, and Whittle smiled dangerously when she noticed. I was too confident to care. I started back to my place at the end of the table. “Move them, Rose.”

I sat between Bruises and Peach Pit again, still grinning like a fool. Not only was going to keep my word and get the Trotties off of my flank, I was going to put my plans for cleaning up this side of town ahead by months. I crossed my forelegs and gave a slow glance around the table. “Mares and gentlecolts, I’m going to put on a private concert in that theater, starring Vinyl Scratch. And all of you are going to reap the profit of being the businesses nearby.”