Bailing Out

by PhillyCh3zSt3ak

Rating: teen
Tags: Sex, Spitfire, Slice of Life, Alternate Universe, Human, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Other, Romance
Length: 154752

No one really knows how fate works. Some times it works like you'd expect, but other times not so much, as Spitfire and Andrew are about to learn. Join our two heroes as they find that fate doesn't always work the way we think it should.

|Humanized characters|
Nothing happens by chance, my friend... No such thing as luck. A meaning behind every little thing, and such a meaning behind this. Part for you, part for me, may not see it all real clear right now, but we will, before long.
-Richard Bach
As far back as Andrew could remember, he was always a normal guy. He never stood out but he never went undetected by his peers. At the age of 23 and on the last day of his tour in the Army, he's hoping that life will wind down like it was before his reserve was called to replace another company already in Afghanistan.
Spitfire lead an exciting life by not only being in the Wonderbolts, Equestria's most advanced air force out of any nation on Equius, but being the youngest captain in recent history at the young age of 24. Flying is her life whether it's practicing maneuvers with her squadron or performing for tens of thousands per show. However for her one fateful flight through the world's most infamous hot spot for odd activity takes a turn for the worse.
Fate, God, or another entity has tied these two together for better or for worse.

Rated teen for language, and the sex tag was added for implied scenes and innuendos.
Dark/gore warning for chapters 10 part 1 and 10 part 2
All characters are humanized, however the pegasi retain their wings and unicorns retain their magic.
Note: I know some things are unrealistic at times, but I'm trying to keep it as close as possible for some semblance of realism in the real world.
Categories and rating are subject to change at any time.
Any suggestions and constructive criticisms are welcome.
Please upvote if you liked it, but if you downvote please state why in a comment or a PM.
Disclaimers:
All characters (human OC's) appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic belongs to DHX Media and their appropriate associates and this fic is not for profit.
Any mentioned media or products in this fic belong their respective companies and owners.
This is not a self-insert. Andrew may have some quirks that I personally have and may share some personal experiences that help advance the story.

Published 2013-11-08 05:40:03 UTC
Last updated 2015-01-15 21:57:51 UTC

Prologue and Chapter 1*

Prologue and Chapter 1*

Prologue: Into the storm

"Hey."
"Yeah?"
"Do you ever wonder why we're here?"
"It's one of life's great mysteries. Why are we here? I mean, are we the product of a cosmic coincidence? Or is there a God watching everything. You know? With a plan for us and stuff. I don't know man, but it keeps me up at night."
-Red vs. Blue season 1, episode 1.

Four planes flew through the clear skies of Equestria. Each single occupant vehicle held a member of the Wonderbolts, Equestria’s longest running elite flying unit. While each occupant could fly themselves without the planes, it never hurts to have several tons of armor and weapons riding shotgun when you need them.

“So tell me why we’re doing this again?” Spitfire’s radio crackled to life with Soarin’s voice coming through.

“What? Flying the most powerful and advanced planes in all the world?” Fleetfoot asked.

“No. Flying into the Bermareda Triangle. You know, the place where weird shit always happens at random times to random innocent people like us; to both planes, boats, and flying people like us alike.”

“Can it you two,” Spitfire spat into her microphone, her voice hinting at her dislike of the current conversation. “To answer your question Soarin’ we’re flying down just to test the range on these aircraft and flying back home. Simple. Even an idiot like you could do it.”

“Apply water to the burned area,” came Rapidfire’s voice over the radio with a chuckle.

The chatter died down and the miles of ocean flew past and the ocean remained unchanged as well. They entered the Burmareda Triangle and flew for miles uninterrupted, Soarin’ still voicing his disapproval over the radio and Fleetfoot chastising him for being a baby. The clear skies turned from clear blue to a cloudy gray.

“Cloudsdale tower to Wonderbolt flight, flight come in,” the male voice came over the radio.

“Spitfire to tower, how copy?” she said.

“Captain we have a weather system on radar that looks like a tropical storm heading your way. We advise an immediate U-turn back to base ASAP. Over and out.”

“Copy that, over and out,” she then turned her attention to her squad. “Alright guys, we’re turning around. We’ve got bad weather ahead and I’d rather be out of here before it gets to us.”

“Thank Celestia for that,” Soarin’ made his opinion clear.

The four planes banked left and made an immediate U-turn back towards the Cloudsdale landing strip. As they flew the weather started getting more and more choppy, making the planes shudder as they hit the pockets of air.

Fleetfoot’s voice came over the radio, “Captain, does that look like a funnel cloud to you?”

Spitfire looked up towards where Fleetfoot was pointing from her canopy. Before she could evade it the partially formed funnel cloud bore straight down on her plane. The last thing she heard was combined shouts of “Captain” and “Spitfire” before they faded to static.

As Soarin’, Rapidfire, and Fleetfoot looked back at the now retreating funnel cloud with no sign of Spitfire’s plane as they sped away only one word came over the radio to sum up what just happened.

A very calm, “Shit.”

Chapter 1: Deserts

Inside the cockpit of her plane Spitfire wasn’t having an easier time. Her body was being thrown around and her plane rattling as if the gods themselves were trying to rip it atom from atom. She noticed as the plane rattled the radio came alive with one sided transmissions.

“My loyal subjects, today is a wondrous day in our proud history. Today my sister Luna rejoins us after her very long time away from us-” Spitfire recognized this, it was the speech given at Luna’s reinstatement as co-ruler two years ago, a day remembered by all of Equestria’s citizens.

“Oh the humanity!”

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

“Yesterday, December 7, 1941, a date that will live in infamy.”

As Spitfire listened to these odd radio transmissions the vehicle slammed to the right and her head hit the canopy knocking her out cold.

***

“Hey mom, hey dad. It’s your son Andrew here in good ol’ Afghanistan doing his country proud. But then again who else would it be? Let’s see what’s new? Ah so we just got our replacements in this morning and our CO here is breaking them into the routines we have in place. So that means 2 days from now, 3 for you guys, I’ll be on the first plane back home. One more day of patrols, I mean, what could possibly go wrong?” I paused for a moment, “Yeah I’m pretty sure I just jinxed myself there. But you get my point, one more patrol and I’m on my way home.

“Other than that nothing’s new here. Tell the rest of the family I said hi and to remember to pick me up from the airport at 5pm.” A tap came from my shoulder, telling me that it was the next guy’s turn to use the webcam. “Hey I have to take off now but I love you guys. Remember, Sky Harbor at 5pm. See you in a few days.” I said signing off before sending the video email. I signed off and let the next guy take the computer.

I walked out of the trailer that held all of the base’s telecommunications into the bright desert afternoon and shielded my eyes as they readjusted to the brightness. As I walk down this familiar path to the barracks I hear various fighter jets fly overhead and several Blackhawk helicopters taking off and landing. Many HMVVs cruise from one end of the base to the other, some patrolling the perimeter while others taking various personnel where they need to go.

My name is Andrew Briggs, I am 23 years old, 6’1”, 200 lbs, and of German and Scandinavian decent. Well if you want to get technical I’m a mutt of different ethnicities, but those are the large chunks of it. It was a fun time trying to track my family tree back when I was in high school for a project for health class. Not. And I’m currently a PFC in the Army.

My life was generally uneventful. Grade school had its ups and downs all things considering how brutish children can act like at times, now of all times worse than it was when I was there as I last saw when I made an impromptu visit home to my parents on leave six months ago. When both your parents are school teachers you tend to see the dark side of how children act these days. Sometimes I swear that kids keep getting more stupid as the years go on as parents relatively don’t give a shit about their kids.

I walk along for a moment before stopping feeling the outsides of my pants pockets as though something were missing. I had my ID and some cash in a wallet clip, you know the ones that started selling on TV years ago? My base required sidearm. Ever since the Fort Hood incident Congress and the Senate compromised with the Joint Chiefs and allowed all armed forces overseas to open carry any sidearm they chose while on bases at any time, while back home it only applied to those who were on shift. I had my footlocker key in my breast pocket. I had my baseball cap. What was I missing? I shrugged it off and kept walking, I’d think of it eventually.

Where was I? Oh yes. High school was pretty uneventful as well. I was that quiet kid that no one tended to talk to, it doesn’t help when you’re a transfer student either. I was picked on for a time, but it helps to know that the principal is an old friend of my dad. It also helps when you leave an anonymous tip about one of the jocks smoking crack behind the school to the local PD. By junior year I managed to make a few friends, not many but as the old saying goes “quality not quantity.” Those were some good times, we got in trouble here and there, but nothing ever illegal, though sometimes we did some things that bordered on illicit.

Senior year came around and passed uneventfully as well. I did land a girlfriend, but it didn’t last since we didn’t see eye to eye on anything and she wasn’t willing to budge on anything either so I broke it off. I graduated and applied to colleges and got accepted into ASU majoring in computer programming and minoring in psychology. Shortly after enrolling my parents’ health insurance skyrocketed 200% for no reason since they were healthy as horses and below 50 and they could no longer help me in my schooling other than emotional support.

After a possibly illegal drink or two at the time with a friend he had convinced me to join the Army reserves. That way I would have been able to keep going to college and earn my degree and also serve if called upon, and then also have a career after I got out. During the summer between my sophomore and junior years I went to boot camp and completed it a few weeks before the new semester with just enough time to get registered for classes. Every few months I had to go in and train get checked out by a doctor making sure I was still fit to serve every few months. Eventually I was called to serve half-way through junior year forcing to put pretty much everything on hold.

As I walked into the barracks I took a peek at the calendar, June 17, 2020. I looked at a date a week above today's and knew the reason why it was circled, it was his birthday. His only wish: to go home in one piece, not a bad request at all. Unfortunately no real serious drinking took place since it’s not a good idea to be tanked when there might be an emergency at any time; that would have to wait until he got back home. Speaking of home I bought one of those bank foreclosed homes for a fraction of the price when he was last home. I got it near Luke AFB since I don’t like the gridlock of Phoenix and the huge amount of land and the size of the house itself. It was the house that I always dreamed of while growing up, well other than the disrepair that it was in, but I was counting on my dad and his connections to help me with that one.

“Hey Killjoy, gear up,” Sarge yelled over to me. Yeah my nickname is ‘Killjoy,’ it happened the first day when I said something along the lines of “that’ll kill me” and someone in another squad called me a killjoy and it just stuck ever since. Plus it’s not a half-bad call sign. Still beats out Kenny “Squirt” Mendez any day, he is a good head shorter than anybody else in the squad.

I got my gear from my locker. Your standard body armor, a communications uplink with our squad commander via a small tablet computer mounted on the underside of the forearm, a set of NV/IR goggles, a M4 carbine with EOTECH sights and under barrel 40mm grenade launcher, my combat knife, and a few more clips for my 9mm sidearm.

All geared up and ready to go the rest of my squad and I met at our assigned HMVV to start our final patrol of our tours of duty. We got in and our assigned driver in our group, whom just so happen to be me for today, drove us to our assigned area.

***

Spitfire awoke with a jolt. When she looked around she was still in the whirling wind tunnel surrounding her and her plane still being buffeted by unseen winds.

“Please!” she yelled to no one in particular, “If there’s anyone out there, any god or goddess, please let me out of this!”

The buffeting went on for a few more moments. Spitfire bowed her head in defeat. She would never see her friends and family again, to be forever trapped in this cloudy tartarus. Then it stopped and all she could hear was the droning of the engine of her plane. She looked up, the sky was clear and cloudless, but as she looked below she saw desert plateaus eventually hundreds of miles away turning into a lush forest and sub sequentially into a desert.

“Where the hell am I?” Spitfire asked out loud.

***

NORAD – 6/17/2020 2030 hours

“Sir, we have an unidentified aircraft that passed the Grand Canyon headed south east. FAA says it has no transponder and therefore no flight plan,” the technician reported.

“Contact Nellis and have them intercept with F-22’s.”

“Yes, sir.”

Author's Note

Prologue: The planes they’re flying are WWII era planes similar to P-51 mustangs, her flightsuit attire also reflects that as well.
Chapter 1: Those who live in the specific state in which those three regions exist probably have an idea where Spitfire is if the Grand Canyon didn't give that away.

This is my first fic so go ahead and leave feedback, constructive if possible.

Patch Notes

(5/13/14)
The video message: The reason why this remains the same is that this is what Andrew said. As pointed out it is against OPSEC to say that. It is to be assumed that it was already censored for any sensitive information before reaching the final destination. Hell if they can do it with packages sent through APO's I can't see why they can't do it to digital, especially twelve years from now. People have let things slip before by accident, so in a long-shot chance it makes sense.
HMMVs: Nixed "jeep" from it.
The sidearm on base: Now this one's a little more reasonable because there's a Texas congressman who is trying to repeal the bill that disallows anyone other than MP's on base to carry a firearm, in his words (paraphrasing): to prevent another Fort Hood-style incident. So hypothetically in this alternate future the law passed.
Night vision goggles: My reasoning behind this is that it's better to have them and not need them then need them and not have them. I also never mention that he had them on, so again hypothetically he could have left them inside a HMMV until they were needed if at all.

Chapter 2: Things... could have gone better*

Chapter 2: Things... could have gone better*

Chapter 2: Things... could have gone better

I walked down the street, rifle in hand, with Cheryl, our squad’s medic. The day had been calm so far. I wouldn’t say everyone liked us, but it was more like a ‘you mind your business we’ll mind ours’ type of relationship. We stopped in front of a shop that I frequented often.

“Hey Cheryl, want anything? I’m buying,” I asked.

“Just something to drink.”

I walked inside to see two familiar faces, first was Ahmed, the owner of the closest thing this town had to a restaurant; and the second was ‘the kid,’ one of the bussers he had on staff. I never did learn how to say his name correctly, I digress. Many eyes fell upon me in both disgust and fear. It probably didn’t help that I had an assault rifle, grenades, and a pistol all on my person.

“Ah, Mr. Drew, what do I owe the pleasure?” Ahmed asked from behind the counter.

“Hey Ahmed. I’m just stopping by for a bite to eat; some food to go and two Cokes. You know you’re one of the few people that actually make goat meat delicious, you know that?”

“Ah Mr. Drew, you flatter me.”

“No, really I mean it. But while you’re getting the order done,” I give him some cash, “is the kid around?”

“Yes, he just brought back some dishes.” He called out in Arabic towards the back. Soon enough the kid appeared from the kitchen.

“Mr. Briggs, nice to see you again,” he said giving me a ‘man hug.’

“Hey there kid, nice to see you too. How are your brother and sister?” I replied breaking the embrace.

“They are doing fine. I must thank you again for helping me get this job.”

“No problem, none at all,” I replied with a smirk on my face. So it was 3 months ago when I saw the kid on the side of the road scavenging for food out of a garbage can. I talked to him and found out his deal, and then brought him to Ahmed who said as long as he worked hard he would earn 3 meals a day for both his siblings and himself. Not a bad deal at all. “I just wanted to stop by before I took off.”

“You’ve been good to me.” He grabbed my wrist as one would do to a comrade. “May fortune favor you and your endeavors my friend.”

“And yours as well. And tell your siblings that their favorite infidel says hello,” I said in reply. Ahmed had returned from the kitchen with a to-go bag containing the closest thing to a shredded pork sandwich in the entire city and two Cokes in the classic glass bottles. Time to eat. I paid Ahmed and we shared our own friendly handshake.

“My friend, though we may have different beliefs, we do have the same morals. You are a good man, and for that I respect you. May your God bless you in whatever you set yourself to,” Ahmed said putting his hand on my shoulder.

“And may your God bless your business and endeavors as well,” I say in return. “Anyway I should take off, don’t want my CO bitching at me, right?” I chuckle a little. “Thanks,” I say as I leave. Cheryl still waiting outside, her eyes scanning the street still. “Working hard or hardly working?” I say holding out the ice cold Coke to her.

“Hardy har har,” she mock laughed. “I haven’t seen anything so far.”

“Are you sure you aren’t hungry?” I said as I opened the bag. “I could ask Ahmed to make you something if you wanted.” I took a bite of the shredded goat meat sandwich.

“No, I’m fine. How can you eat that? Don’t you suspect that he’ll poison you?”

“Because it’s the next best thing to shredded pork, which to Muslims is not allowed. Plus I can tell if he were going to do such a thing,” I say taking another bite.

“Do pray tell,” she said with disbelief.

“Well while I was still in college classes I took a course on psychology and body language. I’m actually really good at it. His actions never had any malicious hinting or anything to hint as such. So while I am wary of him, I can trust him better than any random here on the street.”

“Well I guess that does make sens-” she was cut off though by a bullet passing through my Coke bottle. We both ducked behind the nearest car for cover.

‘Why couldn’t today stay uneventful?’

***

Northern Arizona – July 17, 2020 2300 hours

The two F-22 Raptors tore through the night sky, their prey just in their reach.

“Viper actual to tower, we are in route to the aircraft. ETA less than 10 minutes.”

“Copy that,” came over the radio. “Attempt contact first and get them to comply. Await further orders of the pilot does not comply.”

“Roger.”

***

Spitfire continued to fly, her plane stuck flying south-southeast. She had control of the ailerons but not the rudder. She looked around her, the plateaus had turned into a lush forest and still beyond was the coming of the desert.

“This place really is confusing,” she muttered.

”Unidentified aircraft. Please respond, over,” Came a male voice over her radio. She looked around and saw no visible air presence. She tried to reach for her microphone, but saw it was smashed from when her head slammed into the canopy.

“Unidentified aircraft, this is Captain Cashman of the United States Air Force. Please respond over.”

***

“-Please respond over,” the captain said and paused waiting for a reply from the open channel. He reached down to his console and flipped over to a secure channel. “Base, this is Viper actual, aircraft is not responding. What do you want us to do next?”

The person on the other end paused for a moment, “Fly alongside them and flag them down. Fire a warning shot if you have to.”

“Copy that,” he turned to his partner. “Let’s go.”

"Fifty bucks says it's a rookie drug runner," his partner commented over the radio.

***

Over the drone of her engine Spitfire could hear two high pitched screams coming from behind her. She turned to see two aircraft bearing down fast upon her plane. They were black as night, blending seamlessly into the night sky, as well as sleek in design. They easily flanked her plane on both sides lining up cockpit to cockpit. A green glow emanated from one cockpit illuminating the pilot. He pulled up his blackened visor and looked directly at her with his masked face pointing downward at the ground.

“Pilot, descend now and prepare to land,” came over her radio.

“I can’t,” she said, over enunciating the words, hopeful that the other pilot could read lips.

***

The captain looked at the pilot and saw that she was trying to say something, “Viper two, I think her radio’s out.” He looked closer at the plane, it looked unmistakably like a P-51 Mustang, but in pristine condition, just as if it had rolled off the assembly line no more than a few days ago. Then he saw the machine guns sticking out of the wings.

“Base this is Viper actual, aircraft has guns. I repeat the plane has guns,” he stated with shock, yet calmness into his headset.

“Viper this is base, wait until it’s over the desert and away from the freeway then take it out. Sidewinders authorized.”

***

Spitfire got concerned real fast. Not only had the pilot’s light had gone off, but he had slipped his black visor back down and both planes had dropped back behind her tailing by a good few hundred feet. A realization came over her, it was a typical move just before you took a target out. Everyone knew that by the time they left the Academy. ‘But why weren’t they firing?’ she asked herself.

‘I have to lose them,’ she thought before pulling hard on the stick accelerating as fast as her plane could. She shot straight towards the clouds illuminated by the moon. Her pursuers however were able to follow her with ease. To make matters worse she couldn’t even see them on her radar. She shot out of the cloud layer and was buzzing the clouds. The other planes burst through them as well just staying above the clouds as well.

Two outlines then showed up on her radar, she turned around and saw the planes had open doors on both sides of their undersides. She then heard a tone associated with magic infused seeking missiles. But none came, but the tone kept going.

“There’s only one way out of this,” Spitfire said to no one. “I pray that this will work.” She did half an aileron roll so that her canopy was inside the clouds. She made sure her survival pack was securely clipped to her flight suit before jumping out. As she fell through the clouds she saw her plane fall from the clouds hundreds of feet away still being followed by the other planes. One shot two missiles that shot away from him and impacted her plane causing it to explode with no resistance.

***

“Base this is Viper, target has been destroyed.” The Raptors turned around in a long arc and headed back to base.

***

Spitfire rolled on the ground in landing from her terminal velocity fall. She examined her person. She had minor cuts from a cactus that she had landed on, some needles still in her arm. Which were removed quickly as one would remove a bandage. Her left wing had been strained from the forces exerted when she at tried to slow her fall. She’d be able to glide, but not fly. At least for the next few days. Before she had landed she had seen lights in the distance.

“There must be a city there. Funny, a jewel in the desert. Maybe it’s Los Pegasus,” she said sarcastically but also with hope.

She checked the contents of her survival kit. One combat knife that could be used as a utility knife, one .45 pistol with one spare magazine, one MRE, one emergency medical kit, and one large canteen of water.

“Well, time to start hoofing it. What a weird saying, 'hoofing it,'” Spitfire said as she started walking towards the lights in the distance.

Author's Note

What will be the fate of Andrew Briggs? What hardships will Spitfire endure in the Sonora desert? Well you’ll have to read the next chapter to find out, because I already know [insert evil laughter here].
One of the main reasons why Andrew gets called "Mr. Drew" is based on a personal experience I had years ago with an immigrant from the Middle East. Nice guy, but insisted calling me "Mr." and my first name.
I would like to believe that I caught all the errors, grammatically and spelling, but if I missed something go ahead and either comment or PM me and I'll fix it.

Patch Notes

(5/13/14)
"Last day" line: Nixed and replaced with an alternate line. Lines related to it also fixed with alternate lines.
Flying scene (as pointed out by totallynotabrony as was the above): I am not a pilot, hence the derp moment. Also the reasons behind the actions will be explained in a later chapter.
Radar: Magic. Quite literally: magic. Ok yeah it sounds a little deus ex machina but think about it. I said previously that the planes were SIMILAR to the P-51. Now at the time this was originally written this could have meant it was on par in horsepower, speed, or maneuverability. In a future chapter it will be looked at closer, explaining certain features, etc. etc.

Chapter 3: Home again, home again

Chapter 3: Home again, home again

Well the firefight had ended last night and I had spent the night in the infirmary overnight for a very lucky shrapnel wound that had somehow missed all the major veins and arteries and in between my the radius and ulna of my right arm. A miracle if I've ever heard of one. I had to get stitches on both sides of my arm which was unsurprising. I also had gotten some pain meds and antibiotics, which meant no drinking, great just like getting my wisdom teeth pulled again.

Where was I? Oh yes the shrapnel. It was from the car that I was behind. A grenade had been thrown and one of the parts of shrapnel that came off the little fucker struck my wrist while I was attempting to blind fire over the car’s trunk. The Sarge and Squirt managed to take out the sniper and we were able to extract back to base. Got stitches, went to sleep, and now am in a transport plane homeward bound.

I pulled out one of the personal affects I was allowed to bring along: my smartphone, in airplane mode. I figure a few audio books would hold me over, plus it’s not going to be a short flight either, plus I don’t have cell coverage out here so I can’t browse the internet either so the only other thing to do is sleep. Only a 14 hour flight is what separates me from home.

***

Spitfire continued wandering towards the city just over the horizon that continued to glow in the long off distance. She had traveled during the bulk of the night before stopping at dawn to use the pop-up survival tent to sleep the day away until sunset. Calling it a pop-up tent was being generous. It was only a survival blanket supported by a collapsible tent pole with the other side being held up by a large cactus. She used her unused back-up parachute as a pillow since she would have only needed it if her wings wouldn't have slowed her down, which they luckily did. It wasn't the most comfortable pillow, but it worked well.

Why was she traveling at night? Her survival training told her that walking during the day tired you out more and drained your water supplies faster than traveling at night when the heat from the day was being released from the ground at night making it cooler out. Plus in her case it made it easier to know where to head in terms of direction.

With her MRE eaten the day before and at least another two before she hit civilization, she would be forced to hunt some animals. Though most of the citizens of Equestria were mostly vegetarian, they all did partake in some sort of meat from time to time. In most of the rural communities the sources were usually from road killed deer and elk, while in the cities it was mainly fish. This made it much easier for those pressed into survival situations, like Spitfire was, when you couldn't be a picky eater and can only eat what you know to be safe and edible.

The “night” before she had waited until the sun had rose some more while waiting under her little lean-to seeing of anything edible would emerge. As her luck would have it a jackrabbit was hopping around no more than 10 or so yards away. She took her pistol and shot it. Spitfire did feel a little guilty about ending a life like that, but in the wilderness it’s survival of the fittest, and she’s the one with a gun. She skinned and cooked it as best as she could and tried to save as much of it as she could for the next meal, since the next meal might not come until she finds someone or gets found.

That was yesterday, right now the sun was setting again and the sun had fallen behind the mountains in the distance. The sunset was beautiful and breathtaking. Spitfire had never seen such a sunset before, even with Celestia being the steward of the sun. Well mainly keeping the planet on course and in orbit. One thing that Spitfire noticed was that during the day there was no one managing the weather. The clouds few freely. ‘Do they not have angels managing the weather?’ she asked herself.

Another thing that she noticed was that larger versions of those planes kept passing over her at extreme altitudes, all of them going and coming from every direction on a compass. They were too far up in the air to be searching for her so maybe they were transport planes? A few more of those fighter planes and some larger wing-shaped planes flying and landing past the mountain range a good ten miles ahead of her and then took off in different directions at high speeds as well.

She looked at the small mountain range ahead of her. It would take a few hours at the base to reach the top, but she figured it’d be worth it if she could glide down and save her aching feet some grief. In her training she was forced to do several 10 mile runs, but this was on a whole other level. During the first few hours after the sun set she’d unzip her flight suit and tie the sleeves around her waist, walking on in her black tank top until it started getting cold out.

“Well, time to walk again,” Spitfire muttered.

***

Ok so I was wrong, it was shorter than 14 hours. We made a landing at a Royal Air Force base to land since our original flight route was basically fucked because of an unforeseen tropical storm that would have been too dangerous to fly through. They left us the choice to either wait until the storm passed or take a flight from London to NYC and then to wherever home was.

Airlines have come a long way in the last seven years, planes are capable of flying twice that of commercial jets back in 2013 thanks to some innovations. They’re still not at the level of speed that the Concord was at years ago before it was decommissioned, but it’s still faster than before cutting that annoying 12 hour flight over the Atlantic down to six or seven hours. Then of course you have random layovers and delays back home and you’ll total a wonderful 14 hour trip. Pretty much a whole day wasted.

I was against waiting another day to get home since that’s how long it would take for the storm to pass. So I bought a one-way ticket to Phoenix after dipping a little into my bank account. Getting through customs was a pain in the ass. Yeah take a man in the US Army, drop him in London and have him explain why he’s in full uniform at a British airport. While I have nothing against our British cousins, getting through took longer than I would have liked. Though I do have to admit, the tea isn’t half bad. I had some from some restaurant in the concourse.

The flight over the Atlantic, could have been better. I was wide awake from my nap on the cargo plane and the in flight movie sucked balls. Worst part was that I didn’t even have the time to go and get my cash exchanged for British pounds so no headphones for me. Well yeah I COULD have used a credit card, but the one I had was a prepaid card with only enough cash for getting home, the real card was in a safe back in my house. What? Call me paranoid but I didn’t want any of my squad-mates ordering $500 in sex toys on the internet and have them discovered on my doorstep.

Eventually I fell asleep maybe an hour into the flight. But it wasn’t a restful one, it was more like an ‘I fell asleep because I was bored’ type sleeps. All I have to say about this is: jet lag is going to be a bitch when I get home.

***

Spitfire had gotten almost to the top of the small mountain range. Along the way she had to kill a rattlesnake and a mountain lion. She had caught herself on another fuzzy looking cactus that seemed to just jump out at her leg when she got too close. She spent a good hour getting all of those little spines out of her left calf. She had used the last of her gauze and antiseptic on her leg.

“Let’s hope nothing else goes wrong,” she muttered. As if on cue coyotes started howling, all from the direction she came from. Standing up quickly, wincing from the pain, she started running up the mountain as fast as she could muster. Reaching the top a short time later she stared at the landscape in front of her. More desert, but there were houses a dozen or so miles away. She’d be able to glide maybe six or more miles before having to walk the rest.

Spitfire head the howls again and sprinted to get a head start as she ran for a sheer drop. She jumped off and spread her wings. As the air was caught in the feathers of her wings she felt a dull pain in her back muscles. She glided over the landscape watching cacti and miles of desert pass below her. Her flight didn’t last long as she approached the ground again. The sand cushioned her landing, but it still wasn’t a pleasant one considering she had been walking for the last two days.

She kept walking towards the lights in the distance before her eyes fell upon a house, a large house. She ran up to it and saw that all the lights were off when many other houses close nearby had many lights on. She ran around to the front door and saw several newspapers on the doorstep.

“No one’s been here for a while,” she muttered. She then looked for one of those false key rocks that some people used back in suburbs of Canterlot and Cloudsdale. It took her a while in the dark but she found it. She unlocked the door and went inside only to be greeted by the smell of dust, several months of dust. “Someone could have cleaned up better,” she muttered to no one in particular.

As she explored the empty house she found the master bedroom and the bathroom attached to it. “I bet the owner wouldn’t mind if I used their shower for a bit,” she said starting the shower up and stripping down, leaving her holster on the bed. She stepped in letting the borderline steaming water melt the aches from her body and the sand and dust dissolving from her skin. She must have stayed in there for a good hour since the water started turning cold and the entire bathroom had steamed up.

She grabbed one of the towels and wrapped it around herself getting out and turning the water off. ‘I bet they won’t mind if I borrow some clothes while I get my stuff clean,’ she thought. As she opened the door into the bedroom she was greeted with a gun in her face and an angry looking camouflaged man holding it. She raised her hands slowly above her head since her own gun was in the same room on the bed.

“Umm, hi?” she said with a weak smile. The man’s expression unmoving and his eye looking right through the iron sights at her head.

***

Several hours earlier…

I had arrived at JFK a little after 8pm, Jesus that was a long flight. I had to move quickly to get to the connecting flight to Denver. Yeah the flight didn’t start boarding for another 20 minutes but it’s better to be early than to miss the flight entirely. I did catch “dinner” at one of the food stands in the concourse, my stomach was still registering it as lunch right now. Nothing fancy, oh God how I missed the simple hot dog. After I got back to my terminal I got the assorted responses from “thanks for serving” to just a stare. Yeah there’s still people that hate people like me who serve and the war when they should just hate the war and not the soldier. It’s not a hard concept really.

Before I boarded the cutest thing happened that gives me hope in the next generation, or at least a little hope. This little girl, no older than six or seven walked right up to me, her parents in tow, and saluted me. It was just so adorable.

“Hey, do that again,” I said and she repeated her salute. “Now hold it there,” I said then adjusted her elbow so that her salute was perfect. Then I returned the salute to her. She then gave me that little kid hug they do at times and in the most adorable voice said “Thank you,” before running back to her parents leaving me with a smile on my face.

Another 3 hour flight later and I was in Denver. Again the same responses from other travelers as I passed to my next terminal which lead to Phoenix, home sweet home. The flight to Phoenix left right away so one sprint and one flight later I finally arrived home. One bright side to all this traveling was that I got to leave the plane first so suck it bitches!

Leaving the concourse and seeing my family outside, looking as tired as fuck, we all met up. Hugs were exchanged, kisses were mainly from my mom. We all piled into my dad’s truck and headed away from the airport.

“So Andrew, what’s up with the sling?” my dad asked.

“Shrapnel wound,” I said. My mom turned around and looked at me with worry in her eyes, “Don’t worry, it missed anything vital. The docs just want me to keep it in the sling for the rest of the week. And I have pain meds if I need them, so no alcohol for the next week. And here I wanted a drink,” I laughed a bit there.

The drive to my house was a good hour drive, most of it was on the freeway, only the last fifteen or so was on a major road. During the drive my parents asked me a whole bunch of questions, as expected from parents who haven’t seen their only son in almost six months. You know the questions: “how was your flight?” “Did you meet anyone nice over there?” “Does your arm hurt?” “Did you make any friends?” You know, questions like that. We finally arrived in my driveway and I let myself out, grabbing my bag.

“Andrew, I’m pretty sure you’ll want to rest right now after your trip, so we’ll leave you. Call us if you need anything,” my mother said.

I waved goodbye as I pulled out my house key from inside my wallet. Not a bad idea, I did it with my car key a few years ago, it saved me a really embarrassing phone call to AAA. As I walked in one thing that was blatantly wrong with my house was that the shower was running. I dropped my bag and walked over to my bedroom silently after taking off my boots. Walking over to my bed I saw what seemed to be a very dirty 1940’s style flight suit, a sweat soaked tank top, and women’s underwear on the floor and a holstered .45 caliber Browning M1911 pistol on the bed.

I took the pistol and removed the magazine and removed the chambered round and placed the now “safe” firearm back on the bed. I then walked to my bedside table and removed one of my personal side-arms hidden throughout the house; in this case this one was a FN Five-seveN. I sat on the bed and checked to make sure there were rounds in the magazine before placing it back and charging a round. I waited and listened to the shower’s running water. A good and long fifteen minutes later the water finally stopped and I stood up taking a shooter’s stance two feet away from the door, my pistol aimed right about eye level at the door.

I heard the wet “pitter patter” of feet as they approached the door. As it opened I was greeted to a woman no older than me wearing nothing other than one of my nice towels. One thing that immediately stood out about her, other than she looked sort of hot, was her fiery red hair. She looked at me in shock, because who wouldn’t in this situation, and raised her hands slowly above her head.

Adjusting my aim slightly so that I was aimed right at her forehead I stared down the sights. In reply she spoke up, “Umm, hi?” and tried to pass off a sheepish smile.

“Who the fuck are you and why are you in my house?” I said in the darkest angry sounding voice I could.

Author's Note

For the sake of sanity I decided on a whim to call the humanized pegasi “angels,” the unicorns “mages,” the earth ponies are “Earthborn,” and any mention of alicorns are going to remain “princesses” since so far there has been no male alicorn so far.
The cactus I described is called the jumping cholla, which really does “jump” out at you if you get too close to it.
To those who don’t know what “charging a round is” that’s when you pull the slide back and chamber a round.
In this chapter I state my theory about Celestia and Luna being stewards of the sun and moon. A steward is defined as a caretaker for something belonging to another. I do intend to go into more depth on that when the time comes, but until then I'll leave you with that thought.
I would have had this out sooner but my girlfriend was going through some issues that I had to help her with. A lame excuse, but I love her and all so she took precedent over the story.
Also while editing I didn't see any glaring issues with grammar or spelling. If you spot something I didn't PM or comment it and I'll take care of it ASAP.

Chapter 5: Parallels*

Chapter 5: Parallels*

A/N: I will admit that this is a little slow, but I found it necessary to compare the differences and similarities of both universes.

Chapter 5: Parallels

“Care explaining this?” I ask showing her my phone and the video on it. She came closer, using the towel to dry her hair.

“What’s that?” she asked pointing at my phone.

“It’s a giraffe, Isaac Newton,” I said sarcastically. “I can’t get anything out of you today, can I?” I sighed. “My phone.” Again nothing, “Just look at this.” I hit play and she watched the same clip that I had just watched.

I watched her go from relieved to shocked in the matter of a few seconds. The clip ended and she stood speechless. “B-but that’s me. That can’t be me.”

“Well either you’re nuts, which explain why you would claim to have a cartoon character’s name, but that wouldn’t explain the wings or the voice,” I opened the imdb page for the voice actress, “because that’s the voice behind that character and you look nothing like her.”

“Or?”

“Or we’ve wandered into a Twilight Zone type situation,” I finished. “It’s a TV show,” still nothing. “Weird stuff like this happens all the time in that show.” She seemed to understand the ‘weird’ part. “My point is we may have both unwillingly wandered into an alternate universe situation. Have you ever heard of the multiverse theory?”

“No, wait… I think I may have heard Celestia’s student, Twilight say something about it once to another noble at the Gala one year. Something about different realities with subtle or obvious changes,” she replied rubbing her temples.

“That’s it more or less. It’s been explored in many sci-fi shows here. One of my personal favorites being Stargate, but that’s beside the point. The layman’s version of the multiverse theory states that if it exists as fiction here, chances are there’s a universe in which it’s a reality. And then again with minor changes as well. I bet you there’s a version of me back in your universe and that version could even be a girl.” I also muttered ‘And she’d better be hot.’

I seemed to be losing her, “Bottom line, here your universe’s inhabitants are seen as talking ponies in mine, or something similar to that extent. I’m going to ask you a series of questions, answer them to the best of your ability.” She nodded, “Let’s begin then.”

I went back to the wiki page and brought up the episode list complete with synopses for each. Start easy and then randomizing it seems like the perfect plan. “What was the most recent national event you can remember?”

“Well about six months ago Miss Twilight Sparkle was crowned the fourth living princess of Equestria,” Spitfire replied.

“Do you know any of the events leading to why she was crowned?” I said looking at the answer.

“Rumors say that back in Ponyville Princess Twilight performed an unfinished spell created centuries ago that somehow mixed up the Elements of Harmony. The next day the entire town descended into chaos with rampant animals and unruly weather.”

“How long did it last?” I asked looking down at the answer it said a few days.

“I was told it was at least a month if not a little longer.” Ok so it was a little longer than they have written for the show. “I was told that Princess Twilight went into a slight depression before she solved the spell. The other hosts to the Elements of Harmony witnessed her disappearing after she completed the spell as the other five Elements fired on her.

“She reappeared hours later bearing the traits of all the races. A few days later there was an official coronation crowning her princess.”

“This has been bugging me for the last few minutes,” I started, “I know in the show they have earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns; and seeing your world is a parallel universe what do the races of your world look like?”

“Well instead of pegasi we have ‘angels’ and as you saw on me we have wings and can control the weather. Plus sleeping on clouds is nice so that’s always been a bonus for us. Speaking of which can I get a shirt I can put my wings through?”

“We’ll figure out something later, but continue,” I replied.

“Well the unicorns of my world are called mages. They have intricate tattoo-like marking on their arms that appear around the time they can start absorbing the mana in the air and performing magic. One cool thing about them is that those marking are not only the same hue as their magic auras, but they also glow when magic is used,” Spitfire continued. I nodded at this information signaling for her to move on.

“As for the last of the common races instead of earth ponies we have the “earthborn,” they have immense strength compared to the rest of us. As for the princesses they have all the characteristics of the three main races. You said you had a series of questions, any others?”

I continued going from episodes that she would have either heard about what happened or was involved in directly. One thing I learned was that when an angel hits Mach 1 they create not only a sonic boom, but it also creates an expanding ring of energy the same shade or shades of their hair. Something having to do with inert magic that gets activated in a microsecond and injected into the sonic boom. I would have questioned how this would be possible, but with the record skydive of Felix Baumgartner and him going faster than the speed of sound it seems unnecessary. The only angel capable of pulling it off in recent history without any mechanical assistance was one Rainbow Dash.

I then went back to the two-part series premiere involving someone returning from the moon. It turns out they have a penal colony up there and only the worst of the worst get teleported up there and only the most powerful can even make an attempt to break the time-locked spell placed on them keeping them there. That’s what happened on the summer solstice three years ago for them. The entity known as Nightmare Moon who was possessing Princess Luna got a supercharged boost from the planets lining up for a single day. She broke out and the rest happened like it did in the show, the entity got exorcised and harmony was restored.

The Canterlot wedding was more or less the same as it was in the show, except there were a few civilian deaths as well as quite a few guard deaths when they were fighting the Changelings. Spitfire had been in Cloudsdale preparing for the parade that would have proceeded to the wedding reception, but of course the attack happened. By the time they had received the SOS telling them to come to assist Princess Cadance and Shining Armor had already expelled the threat.

“Ok so when there was a dragon attack on the small town of Ponyville, you and your team were asked to intervene-” I started.

“I don’t want to talk about that one,” she quickly cut me off.

“Ok then. Well I guess that about covers it, no wait there’s one more. This one’s more of a personal curiosity.” Spitfire nodded in response. “You know Luna’s guards right? Do they actually look sort of like vampires or is that an enchantment on their armor?”

“Luna’s guards? The ones with the bat wings?” she asked and I nodded in reply. “They’re called nightkin. While their name sort of hints at they’re night people, they can be both seen at night and at during the day depending on what jobs they hold. I know this one guy in Cloudsdale that owns a breakfast restaurant and is up every morning making his family’s traditional biscuits. They do like to ingest blood, but usually get rare meat to get rid of that craving.”

“Interesting,” I trail off looking at the clock. A little after 11pm. “Have you eaten anything?”

“Well I didn’t take anything out of your fridge, if that’s what you’re asking,” Spitfire replied.

“How would you feel about pizza?” I say grabbing my phone.

“But isn’t it a bit late to go out to a restaurant?”

“They deliver,” I reply and by the look on her face she looked shocked. I guess they don’t have delivery back home. “How do you feel about pepperoni?”

“I’m ok with it.”

I called a local place and made the order. I walked over to the TV and turn on the news, “I’m going to go take a shower. If the delivery guy shows up give him the cash on the counter. The tip is included, just tell him to keep the change. Feel free to use the TV.”

***

Spitfire flipped the channels with the remote pointed out to her before Andrew went into his bedroom. The TV was so thin and in color. Back home she only had a boxy black and white TV, and that was for those with money to spend. She saw snippets of movies as she flipped past them. But she stopped on one channel in particular, the History Channel. They were showing a program called “Dogfights,” a show about aerial plane fights from different eras from this world’s history. She sat there listening to old pilots talking about what they did and how they felt in the heat of the moment. She must’ve been sitting there for a good fifteen minutes because she didn’t even notice Andrew coming up from behind her.

***

I walked out of my bathroom and put on a random loosely fitting shirt and pajama pants. Oh God how I missed not only a long, hot shower but also dressing this relaxed. I walked back out into my living room to see Spitfire watching the History Channel.

“Pizza here yet?” I asked, which apparently startled her. That’s the magic of TV kids, tuning out anyone you should probably pay attention to. I looked at the table and saw a severe lack of pizza, “I’ll take that as a no then.”

“Sorry, but this show is just so interesting,” she replied turning back to the boob tube.

I pressed info on the remote. What I saw was an old favorite of mine, Dogfights. A smile crept onto my face as I had a nice little flashback of my dad and me watching this years ago. Good times, good times. “I wouldn’t have guessed,” I said with a hint of sarcasm. “So what did you do during your free time back home?” I asked taking a seat in my recliner.

“Well flying was my life. Whenever I wasn’t asked to fly some new aircraft I would fly around just to fly. Feeling the wind beneath my wings is the greatest feeling I think anyone can ever experience.”

Right then and there, somewhere in the multiverse, there was a sex pervert that said “Giggity.”

“Anything else? Surely that’s not the only thing you did?” I asked.

“Well… Occasionally I would frequent a local bar with my team and would drink. Sometimes until we blacked out. There were a few odd mornings the next day, I’ll tell you that,” Spitfire replied and I nodded. I remember some crazy times like that one St. Patty’s Day a few years ago. “What’s wrong with your arm?” she asked looking at my stitched forearm.

“The spoils of war,” I replied mostly without thinking. No response, I guess I wasn’t clear enough, “Shrapnel from a grenade. Passed right through my arm right between the bones,” I showed both sides of my arm, the stitches in equal lengths on both sides.

“What is that on the underside of your wrist?” she asked while touching it, while also avoiding the injury.

I looked down and saw she was gesturing at the image, “Oh, that’s just a tattoo that I had done a few years ago. It’s an insignia from a game called Assassin’s Creed. Speaking of ink who did yours? It’s pretty damn good.”

She blushed slightly at the compliment, “Well it’s not ‘ink’ or a ‘tattoo,’ it’s a cutie mark.”

“Say what now?”

“You know, a cutie mark,” she said and I just stared at her like she was on meth, which would have been a legitimate thought if those wings weren’t real. “The image that shows others what your special talent is.”

“So yours is-?” I trail off looking at her ink. I refuse to call it a ‘cutie mark’ because it looks pretty badass rather than cute. Bunnies and puppies, cute. Flaming birds of immortality, badass. “Lighting stuff on fire?” She looked at me like I hit a kitten with a semi-truck. “What?”

“No,” she brushed it off, “it’s flying fast. Fast enough to blaze trails of fire in the sky. I just really love to fly.”

“Yeah the wings didn’t give THAT away at all,” I joke. And on cue to cut Spitfire’s response off the doorbell went off. I walk to the door and sure enough it’s the pizza guy. I pay him and even give him a little tip for his trip all the way out in the boonies. I walk into the kitchen returning with two plates and the box and put them on my coffee table in the living room. “Soup’s on,” I say opening the box, revealing the delicious cheese and meat riddled pie inside.

I turned the TV over to the news while we ate.

“-and the construction on the 202 will end sometime this December according to the Department of Public Works,” the male reporter finished his story.

Then the camera shifted to the female anchor, “Still no official word on the cause of the odd explosion over the desert north-west of the White Tank mountains three days ago. An unofficial report from the Air Force reports that it was a drone that went haywire and were forced to shoot it down. We will keep you posted as we learn more. And now it’s time for weather,” she finished, handing it off to the weatherman.

“Hey Spitfire, you said that your plane was propeller driven, right?” I asked between bites. She nodded. “Well that cover-up makes sense,” I said taking another bite.

“Why?” she asked, mouth full of pizza.

“Well some of our old drones are propeller driven and would have made a similar droning sound that your engine would have made,” I explained taking a bite. “Adding into the fact that we’ve had some issues with hacking in the past and the public eats it up as the truth.”

“Hacking? Like cleaving meat or something?” she asked with some concern. Oh God how I love innocent questions like that. Well sort of.

“Do you have computers back home?”

“Those machines that take up an entire room?” her eyebrow was raised.

“Hold on I’ll be right back,” I stood up and went back to my room. I went to the gun safe and took out my gaming laptop. Yes I’m paranoid enough to lock an expensive computer away with several guns next to it. It’s called ‘healthy paranoia.’ I came back into the living room and placed the computer on the table.

I booted it up to have my personalized log-in screen greet me. “THIS IS A COMPUTER?!? It’s so tiny!” Spitfire exclaimed. Had she been any closer I swear I might have started to hear the tell-tale signs of tinnitus, which at this time I swear I might have.

“Yes it’s my computer, and yes I know it’s tiny,” I reply. I enter my password and open Visual Basic and open a project I was working on before I was sent overseas. “Ok so this is an example of coding inside of a computer program. Now the layman’s version of hacking is basically exploiting holes in the coding and manipulating it to benefit the hacker.” I grabbed another slice, “Usually it’s done through exploited websites and corrupted data downloaded from the internet.”

Spitfire pondered this for a second, taking in all the information.

And in another universe there was a teal armored soldier that looked up from his computer screen and said, “Bow-chicka-bow-wow.”

“What’s the internet?” Spitfire asked. Well I sort of expected this question to pop up sooner or later, but you’re never ready for that question. Just like the innocent child asking his or her parents for the first time about where babies come from.

“Well,” I sighed trying to remember everything I had learned in a required networking class. “The internet is a network of networks where millions of users can access information on the other side of the globe almost instantaneously. In fact,” I started a thought accessing an email, “here’s an email from my sister.” I say opening the photo attachment of my 3 year old niece with Mickey Mouse at Disney Land. “And that’s my niece.”

“She’s so adorable,” she cooed. “But how do you have pictures here instead using film?”

“You have cameras back home that use film, correct?” I asked and Spitfire nodded. “Well the camera that took this image, like the one in my phone here work on the same principle, but instead of film the images are preserved as data. Then the data is read by a computer or the camera’s display and each 1 and 0 of the binary code is transcoded into an image that we can see. Does that make sense to you?”

“Binary? As in base two?” I nodded. “I may not be a scientist but that’s incredible! Our scientists would have never thought of building technology off of that system.”

“Well I’m sure that they would have eventually. It took our scientists almost one hundred years before we had our first computer, and another thirty before we had something similar but not as small as my laptop there. Fast forward another twenty and we have experimental nanomachines being used in hospitals and on the battlefield.”

We talked for a good while longer about computers before we jumped from topic to topic comparing our two worlds. They had radio shows that were broadcasted across the nation like Little Orphan Annie was back in the 50’s and 60’s. We have similar sports in mind, mainly football and basketball, but they don’t have baseball. They have cars, but the way they were all described they sounded like classic 1940’s era cars. I looked outside and saw that the sun was starting to rise and jetlag being what it is has finally caught up to me.

“Well that was a very interesting discussion, but I’m going to call it a night, or morning in this case. I noticed that you don’t have any casual clothing, and it sounds like you’re going to be here a while. So later today why don’t we go shopping and get you some?” I ask.

“Really? Spitfire replied with surprise. “But wouldn’t that cost a lot?”

“Don’t worry about it. Before I shipped out I made some investments and a few paid off nicely. If you want you can use my bed, I’ll just sleep out here,” I say taking a blanket and pillow out. “‘Nite, or whatever,” I say settling into the recliner. Spitfire wandered into my room and I passed into a peaceful sleep.

Author's Note

I’m using the era Nickoli Tessla and Thomas Edison as a reference point from when we discovered electricity and when we had the first computer based on binary code. Also some of the more archaic computers were punch card based and were quite big. The 202 is a loop on the Phoenix freeway near the Cardinals stadium that hosted the Superbowl a few years ago.
There was a good RvB reference in there, if you missed it double back.
Also if you've been living under a rock since the first Assassin's Creed game came out, this is the Assassin symbol that I was talking about:

On a final note, you got to admit seeing tattoos glow on your arms as you use magic sounds pretty bad-ass if you ask me.
I would like to believe that I caught all my errors, if not then prove me wrong and comment or PM me.

Patch Notes

(5/13/14)
Engine droning: Changed from "same" to "similar." Obviously because one engine is more powerful than the other, HOWEVER most propeller driven engines do have a bit of a droning sound from what I have heard.

Chapter 6: Going to town*

Chapter 6: Going to town*

Chapter 6: Going to town

I woke up a good eight hours later, mainly because a ray of sunlight had gone right between my curtains and landed right in my face. Annoying as hell, but not as annoying as an alarm clock. Or a bugle at the crack of dawn. I sat up and why was I on my recliner again? Oh right, I have an interdimensional guest staying here indefinitely. That and I was too lazy to set up the guest room. I’ll set that up before the night’s out, I sort of want to sleep in my own bed again.

I quietly opened the door to my room and grabbed some clothes from my dresser. In hindsight I should have grabbed them before I called it a night. Sneaking into a room while a lady is sleeping is, well, creepy sounding.

I go into my bathroom and start up the shower, the hot water does wonders for those knots in my muscles. Before closing my door I looked out at Spitfire, she was sprawled out on the bed spread eagle-like. Looks like she got a good “night’s” rest. I closed the door and proceeded with my morning ritual.

***

Spitfire was roused from her slumber by the sound of running water and a radio coming from the bathroom. ‘Andrew must be up,’ she thought. She sat up and stretched her arms and back before getting out of bed. Lifting up the back of her shirt she exposed her wings and stretched them out as well. Satisfied that she was limber enough from her sleep, she wandered into the kitchen trying to find something to eat.

Opening the fridge she found nothing inside except for some chilled alcoholic beverages and heavily preserved items like jam, and oddly enough peanut butter. ‘The hell does this guy eat?’ she asked herself. ‘But on the other hand he was away for six months so it makes sense all the perishables are gone.’

Just out of sheer curiosity she picked up one of the beers, a Guinness, and looked for any indication of an expiration date. She saw that it was well over two months beyond ‘best by date. “Eww,” she muttered as she put it back. She opened the freezer and found frozen bread. “Well it’s better than nothing,” she said closing the door after taking it out. She found a microwave oven that, instead of having dials, had buttons with numbers and different settings; and started defrosting the bread.

***

As I walked into the kitchen I could hear the TV on in the living room. I entered the kitchen and saw Spitfire at the table eating toast. “Good morning starshine, the earth says hello,” I say, which gets a confused look from Spitfire. “It’s a song- never mind. Shower’s open, towels are on the rack.”

“I don’t know what goes through that mind of yours. And thanks, I’ll jump in when I’m done eating,” she replied. “Did you know you have some bad beer in your icebox?”

“Really? That sucks. I was planning on-” I started. “Wait… that’s great news!”

“Now why would you be excited about skunky beer?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Duh, beer bread,” I answered as if it were the answer to ‘what is 1 + 1?’ She gave me a dumbfounded look, “My God. You’ve never had beer bread?” She shook her head. “Well we’ll have to remedy that later.”

She finished eating and left to shower. “Oh and I left some clothes on the bed,” I said to her as she walked away. I had left some old clothes that didn’t fit me anymore, but she could use them until she got her own clothing later today.

I went through the cupboards and fridge to see what I had in stock for food. Now that two were going to be living here for an indefinite amount of time I have to double up on food stores. That and I have no idea if I have the necessary ingredients for beer bread, and if I do I have no idea if the stuff’s spoiled or still good. While looking my ears wandered over to the TV which had the local news on.

“And in other news another mutilated body was found last night in downtown Las Vegas. The victim was twenty-two year old Phoenix resident Jenna Glitzman. The Las Vegas Police Department put out a statement earlier today offering condolences to the family as well as stating that the Vegas Strip Slasher, as the Vegas press has come to call the killer, took his fifth victim and that they’re doing everything possible to bring the murderer to justice,” the anchorwoman went off on to another story.

“Damn the news is depressing today,” I said out loud changing the channel to TNT, apparently they were having another Bones marathon. The next episode was just starting. The episode started just like they always do: innocent bystander goes and does something, discovers dead body/mutilated corpse, starts screaming, and then they cut to the title and theme song. “Classic,” I said with a smirk.

“The hell was that?!?” Spitfire exclaimed from behind me, surprising me.

“Well that is a TV show called Bones,” I replied.

“But why would they allow dead bodies to be shown?”

“Ah movie magic, you can’t even tell what’s real and what’s not anymore.” Spitfire looked at me as though I just murdered a cute baby animal. “It’s entertainment. In this case a crime drama where a forensic anthropologist and an officer of the law solve murders. I will say that it can be a little nasty at times, but you get used to it after a time. Plus this isn’t the worst in terms of gore and sex to be legally shown on TV.”

I looked back at her and saw that the shirt on her was a little long, not to be unexpected, and that the jeans were a little loose. “Need a belt?” I asked.

“It would be appreciated. These jeans are sort of slipping a bit,” she replied. I went back inside my room and found one of my leather belts, bringing it back out I handed it to her. She threaded it through the loops of the jeans and tightened it to a satisfactory tightness. “It’ll work,” she said straightening out the shirt.

“Let’s go then,” I said putting on my shoes and grabbing my car keys and wallet. I looked behind me and saw Spitfire putting on a pair of borrowed socks and her boots she arrived in with. I walked into the garage and opened the garage door. As it opened I looked and saw my two vehicles just as I left them since I moved my things here. First up is my Harley Davidson Seventy-Two. A beautiful bike just by appearances alone with a classic design, but boy is it a joy to ride.

The second vehicle is my Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution. It’s an older model, but it still has power under that hood and many more miles ahead of it. I unlocked it via remote sat inside waiting for Spitfire. I turned on the radio and found my favorite heavy rock band station. A good minute into “We’re an American Band” by Rob Zombie (cover), Spitfire finally came into the garage and got into the car. I turned down the radio since I was blaring it, yay subwoofers.

“You might want to buckle up,” I say to her putting the car into reverse and turned around to see if the driveway was clear.

“Wh-?” was all she managed to get out before I gunned it backwards into the street and turned to face the development’s exit.

“That’s why,” I said. She then buckled up and I rocketed off towards the mall, which was a good half hour away. Now can you tell why I hate going there?

***

Sonoran Desert – Middle of nowhere

The military investigator overlooked the wreckage with an observant eye. There was a wing a few yards from him, and its twin a few hundred to the right of him. Scattered around him were parts of the fuselage of the plane, but he was standing right in front of the control panel and a bolted down seat. Sketchbook in hand he drew each part that was found for his notes.

He could hear the whimpering and barking of drug dogs borrowed from the ATF to search the wreckage for any traces of any illegal substances. As he looked both at the wreckage and the sketch he drew the conclusion that the plane was a P-51 Mustang, or similar model. They weren’t illegal to buy, many hobbyist flyers and plane collectors could easily get one through legal channels.

What wasn’t legal were the machine guns located on both wings. Even with special permits in certain states the sale and documentation of automatic firearms was monitored at an anal retentive level of attention.

He walked over to the tent that had tables with smaller evidence and parts strewn about them. He set down his notepad and put on a pair of gloves when an item caught his attention: a headset. As he examined it he found that the microphone and transmitter was broken, but not from the impact of the sidewinder missiles, but from something else.

“Any idea what caused this damage?” he asked one of the other investigators.

A young woman came over and also examined it, “It looks as though the pilot wearing it may have smashed their head against the canopy, which would explain why the pilot didn’t respond to the transmissions from our pilots.”

He knew what she was talking about, the flight log had stated the commanding officer had attempted communication but the pilot of the prop plane hadn’t responded with anything else other than hand signals and pantomiming.

“Was there a corpse found?” he asked.

“I heard that the cadaver dogs are still searching for anything. I doubt anything survived that though,” replied an older male agent.

The investigator turned towards another piece of evidence when he heard a ‘yelp’ from one of the drug dogs. He turned around, like many of the other investigators and technicians at the site, and saw one of the drug dogs cringing in pain and fear from the very front of the fuselage. The handler kept trying to bring it closer, but it kept pulling away, whining all the while.

“What’s wrong Rex?” the handler asked. The dog pulled hard enough for the leash to get away from the hands of the handler. It sprinted straight for the SUV it arrived in.

“Someone get a scanner over to that control panel,” the investigator yelled.

“No you won’t,” came a male voice from behind him. The agent turned around to see an older man wearing an Air Force colonel’s uniform. “This wreckage is now under my jurisdiction. You may now go home.”

“Under whose orders?”

“That’s classified.”

“Where are you taking it?”

“That’s also classified.”

The agents packed up their equipment and left. The colonel stood in front of the assembled wreckage with his hands folded behind his back.

“Sir? The transport trucks are here,” a black clad soldier said with a salute.

“Good. Have it all shipped to 51,” he said turning around walking towards his own car.

***

Phoenix

There’s a really good reason I hate malls, it’s the parking lots. You’ll spend a good forever trying to find a spot only to have it stolen from you by some yuppie bimbo in her pink SUV or Prius or something. And then you have to remember where you fucking parked and by what fucking store. And that’s before even getting inside the complex.

This was the fourth lot we drove into and I’m pretty much at my breaking point. Then I saw it, the primo parking space. The one that one would kill over, well on a Saturday anyway. I gunned it and just as I got there a SUV took not only the space, but the space next to it due to being parked cockeyed.

“MOTHER FUCKER!!!” I scream as well as beating my fists on the steering wheel in anger. Looking at the driver I saw one of those prissy women. You know the ones with the tiny dogs in their purses and wearing enough jewelry to make themselves a target in a bad neighborhood and talking on their phone with some other girl at the end? Yeah that type.

“Andrew? You know there’ll be another space, right? Let’s try somewhere else,” Spitfire tried to console me, or well at least reduce my anger levels.

I sat there for a moment letting my anger vent at the now walking away driver in the form of flipping her off. “Do you know what? You’re right. But before we do-,” I trailed off opening the glove compartment, pulling out a butterfly knife. I opened the car door after throwing on the e-brake. I flipped open the knife and walked over to the rear left tire and plunged it in deep. I quickly pulled it out and heard the satisfying sound of air escaping. I repeated the same thing to the front left tire. I flicked the knife shut and got back inside the car.

“Happy now?” she asked, taking the knife from me and placing it back inside the glove compartment.

“Yes. Yes I am. And to be fair she had it coming being a bitch like that,” I said disengaging the brake, driving yet again to find a spot.

“More importantly why DO you have a knife in your glove box?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Two reasons. One in case I need to use it to cut my seat belt off in case I’m underwater and it won’t release.” I see another parking space and pull in.

“Well that makes sense, and the second?” she asked taking off her seat belt and getting out of the car.

I also get out and remotely lock the door, “The second being if I need it for emergency car repairs on the road.”

We walked inside of the food court in the mall. “Ok so what do we need for me again?” she asked.

I was looking at the map and directory, “Well you need a good week’s worth of clothes. Shirts and jeans and the like, maybe some shorts if you want. Socks and shoes, since I doubt you want to wear those combat boots the entire time you’re here. The last thing that would be on the list would be underwear, unless you’d rather be wearing my stuff,” I say teasing her with that last statement. I got a blush from her in return.

We walked in farther to the main food court concourse. “Alright, if we get separated for some reason we’ll meet up here,” I say pointing to a Cinnabon on the corner. Damn I should go there later, it’s been a long time since I last had one.

We first stopped into a JC Penny’s and I let her get whatever clothes she wanted. Women’s clothing changes so often that my mind would explode just trying to comprehend styles and such. Case in point, any celebrity. Men are easy. Just give us a pair of jeans or shorts, depending on the region, and a shirt with a funny graphic or phrase on it and we’re all set with a pair of skate or other casual shoe style. Surprisingly enough Spitfire’s tastes were pretty simple, well considering the styles these days. She grabbed multiple pairs of jeans of various styles and went off to a changing room, me in tow with the pile. Which weighed nothing compared to the gear I had to carry in 110+ degree weather.

While she tried them on in the changing room I was on a bench, graciously placed by the company, on my phone looking up old friends, checking my email, and of course my text messages. She came out from time to time asking me for another pair in a different size or to throw the pair in the “buy” pile or the “return” pile. When she started choosing shirts she went with a combination of shirts with graphics and plain shirts. I don’t know how but apparently they use the same measurement system that we use here, so that’s convenient.

After that was the shoes. The people in charge of design must be sadistic towards men because they put the shoe department right next to the women’s clothing department. We were there for maybe ten minutes tops. She walked in and grabbed three pairs, a pair of tennis shoes, a pair of high heels, and a pair of sandals, and then just walked out. That shocked me beyond recognition. The last relationship I was in it took my ex a good three hours just to try on different shoes, and trust me when I say I wanted to bash my skull in out of boredom. I had forgotten my phone in the car that day.

“Hey I’m getting a little hungry, do you want to get something?” Spitfire asked picking out one last shirt and placing it on the pile.

Maybe it’s going to become a nightshirt? “Sure. Let’s just pay for these first,” I reply. We did and we got those paper bags advertising where we had just shopped. Part of me hates it while part of me understands it perfectly, from a shoplift prevention perspective. We headed over to the food court and got a late lunch. I had settled for Panda Express while Spitfire went with a soup place I’ve never heard of before. We talked about our childhoods. It was interesting to say the least.

***

Canterlot castle

Four days had passed since Spitfire had disappeared in that tropical storm. Search and rescue ships from the Navy were dispatched as soon as the intensity of the storms had passed into safer parameters. Several squadrons of angels were dispatched for reconnaissance in advance for the slower moving ships. All had checked back in day after day reporting no signs of wreckage or a body, living or dead.

Colonel Hickory Knot of the Equestrian Air Force stood in front of the Solar Diarch’s throne with his hands folded behind his back while standing at attention, he was dressed in the formal uniform for appearing at social functions or official meetings. They waited for the Lunar Diarch to arrive since the meeting was to take place before the daily ritual of keeping the moon on its course and the planet moving as it should. Princess Luna appeared a short time later after the moon had started rising from the west. While Princess Celestia was wearing a long and flowing white dress that complimented her figure, her sister was another story all together. Luna was wearing gray-black sweatpants and a spaghetti strap top with the graphic “I hate the bands you like.”

“I apologize for my lateness sister, Colonel,” Luna said taking her seat as regally as one could dressed like her.

“Now that my sister is here you may proceed with your report, Colonel,” Celestia requested.

He mentally shook his head from the appearance from his boss and ruler. “Of course, your highnesses. So far the Navy and Air Force has not been able to find wreckage or a body, alive or dead, in the waters in which the rest of the Wonderbolt flight passed over. We are expanding the search but,” he gulped, “there may be a possibility that we may not find her. And if we do we might find her too late,” he finished and then lowered his head in regret.

“Colonel,” Celestia said in a gentle voice, “you were the one that authorized that test flight, correct?”

“I was, your highness,” he replied, the regret heavy in his voice.

“Were you aware of the weather conditions,” Luna asked.

“I was,” he answered. The silence after told him to continue, “I was told by an advisor that the area was going to experience a rogue tropical storm, but I insisted on the mission following through on the hope that the storm would either be weaker, or miss the flight route all together.”

There was a silence that hung in the air so thick a knife could cut it. “Did you intend for this to happen?” Celestia asked with a scrutinizing tone.

“No, of course not!” he raised his voice at the accusation. “I would never intend any harm on one of my flight teams,” he finished with a softer tone that the former.

“Do not worry, Colonel. She is not dead,” Luna said. Hickory Knot looked at her in confusion. “When one of our subjects die their mana reserves leave our world for the next, and we can feel that change. In fact a grandmother just died of old age a few minutes before this briefing began. She is now with her ancestors and her husband.”

“She IS still out there, Colonel. Find her,” Celestia finished. He saluted and left the room in a fast stride, one does not want to make your rulers pissed off. “So sister of mine, why are you dressed like that?”

Luna gave her sister a sheepish smile, “Would you believe me if I said I were looking for our lost subject?” Celestia showed no amusement at her sister’s response, “No? Well I may or may not have been playing games last night.”

Celestia pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, “Sister, I thought we had discussed this not too long ago. Everything’s good in moderation, but too much at one time is unhealthy, even for us.”

“I know, I know. But this game is soooo good,” Luna started only to be cut off by a glare. “Fine.”

“Now that this discussion is over, that better not be what you’re wearing to the night court tonight.”

“Do not worry, Tia, we will change soon. I had just forgotten how early this meeting was.”

***

Phoenix

“Hey Andrew, have you ever had that feeling like someone’s talking behind your back?” Spitfire asked.

I finished the bite I was taking. “You mean something like ‘chills down your spine for no reason’ or ‘sneezing though you’re not allergic to anything or are sick?’” I ask.

“Yeah! Exactly like that.”

“Nope, never have had that happen before,” I reply taking a large gulp of my Coke. “Alright so I’m checking the list and the last thing is underwear for you.”

“Well I don’t need your help for that,” she replied with a slight blush. “I see a store over there,” she pointed over to a Victoria’s Secret store one level down.

“And I figured that so I’ll be off doing something else for the time being. Plus I have the feeling that I’ll finish before you’re done anyway,” I countered with a smug look.

“You’re on,” she said placing her hands on the table in an attempt to intimidate me. “How about we make this more interesting?”

“What did you have in mind?”

She rubbed her chin for a moment, “How about if I win I get to drive back to the house.” I thought it over for a moment. Could she even use stick?

“And if I win you have to cook one meal tomorrow, breakfast or dinner, it’s your choice.”

She thought it over, “Deal.” She stuck out her hand and I grabbed it with mine and we shook.

“May the best shopper win. We begin in five minutes.”

“Why?”

“So that I can stash the stuff we’ve already purchased in a rental locker.”

I went and rented a locker to stash the purchases. To the guy who figured that putting rental lockers in was a good idea was not only a man sent from God himself, but also a fricking genius. I stashed the clothing and returned to Spitfire in the food court with a new locker key in tow.

“On your mark. Get set,” I started.

“Go!” Spitfire finished sprinting off to the lingerie store. I calmly walked the other way towards the Verizon store with my hands in my pockets.

“Hey, what can I help you with?” the female clerk said from the behind the counter.

“Hey I’d like to add another line to my current plan,” I replied.

“I think we can do that quite easily,” she said with a smile.

***

Meanwhile…

Spitfire slowed down entering the store to avoid running into a few people. She went deeper looking at the displays to see what would appeal to her. There were bras of various types, panties of various styles, sweatpants and sweatshirts, and many other non-lingerie related items as well.

She went from rack to rack picking and choosing among the hundreds of choices and pairings placing a pair that seemed to go well together into a provided cart. She lost herself in the revelries of shopping and looking for that deal that would in the end cost less money than normal. She went over to the slightly more “sexy” section and picked something out.

‘You never know if I’m going to find someone here,’ she said to herself putting it onto the pile. As she went to another display she spotted a more risqué set that made her cheeks redden, ‘There’s no way in Tartarus that I’ll be caught in THAT.’ She walked further and found a nice looking sleep set, but then she looked at the price and cringed. ‘Ouch,’ was the first thought that came to mind and she placed it back.

She looked over her entire pile of undergarments. She had gathered enough for eight days, plus the “extra special set” in case of romance. Satisfied with her haul, she started walking towards the check-out counter.

***

Setting up the new phone line was pretty fast and easy. Oh how my parents probably loathe the phone companies now. Back then it took forever and a half just to get both signed up and to add a phone to a plan. I opened my bag and took a peek at my shopping spoils: a brand new iPhone 12s. Why Apple insists on releasing a new model every fucking year is beyond me. I still have a Nokia phone that runs Windows’ OS from two years ago and I’m happy with it. Then the sweet smell of cinnamon hits my nose. I know that smell. Cinnabon.

I follow my nose and it leads me to one of their corner stores in malls right where the maximum amount of potential customers pass by and smell their delectable pastries. Clever bastards. But then again I don’t care since I was going to search them out a while ago.

I walked inside and ordered two of their largest buns, one for me and one for Spitfire. I then walked right up to the lingerie store’s entrance and stopped. This was one of those forbidden zones that men do not like to go inside because of the awkwardness, ESPICIALLY with their girlfriends. I mean, come on. You might as well avoid being yelled at by looking at someone else by not being there in the first place.

I walked up to the only cashier. “Excuse me, I’m looking for my friend that just walked in here not too long ago. About five-nine, lithe, flame like red hair, sound familiar?”

She thought for a moment, “Oh yeah. I saw here come in here close to an hour ag-”

“Andrew?” I heard a voice from behind me. Would you look at that, it’s Spitfire. “But how? But you? How did you beat me?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets. Oh, and I have a snack, awesome cinnamon rolls,” I said pointing to the Cinnabon bag. Spitfire checked her choices out, and I put it on my card. We went back out to the food court and I brought the purchased clothes from earlier as well. We sat down and ate our snack.

“So… how did you finish so quickly?” Spitfire asked for the umpteenth time already.

“Fine, mainly because you won’t let this go,” I replied. I pulled out the phone from the bag and hand it to her. “Remember the phone I have? Well I figured that you would need one too just in case.” She took it, “I’ll activate it later, but I just added it to my plan. Then I stopped at the Cinnabon over there. It took me twenty minutes tops.”

“Why would you buy me a phone?”

“Well I’m thinking of picking up where I left off in school, that and I need to get a job again. I know a guy who can get me an interview. I have enough cash for a few months before I really need a job though. With the food costs of two now it’s going to be less than that,” I say with a sigh.

“Well why don’t I get a job?” she asked in a guilt toned voice. “After all I am the reason that you’re going to run out of money faster.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that. You need a social security number and at least one other form of identification as well as a job history, especially at our ages, to not set off any red flags,” I replied with a sigh. “We’ll figure out something.”

We left with bags in tow towards the parking lot. One thing that I saw when walking outside put a smile on my face. The bimbo from earlier was at her car attempting, and failing, to put a spare tire on regardless to the fact she only had one for the two flat tires. Ah karma, she can be a bitch. Especially when you’re acting on the behalf of karma.

***

Area 51

The colonel sat in his office looking over the reports from the wreckage that the investigators had started on. The console was giving off some sort of supersonic tone above the range of human hearing that freaked out the ATF dogs.

The engineers had set all the parts where they would have originally gone in when the plane was originally constructed. The plane was pretty much a P-51, but in pristine condition. What made it especially odd were the parts, they were all from the 1940’s era. They had consulted an engineer with a history background and she had confirmed it.

“Sir?” a woman in a white lab coat said entering his office.

“Yes, Major?” he replied setting down the folder.

“We found some biologicals in the cockpit.”

“And this couldn’t wait until the report, why?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, I don’t quite know how to say it,” she set the folder down and opened it to a medical analysis page. “The biological wasn’t quite human.”

“What do you mean, Major?”

“Well as you can see here,” she pointed with a pen at the alleles printed out, “all twenty-three pairs are here, but there is a variation in one pair that should be there.”

“Speak English.”

“What I mean to say is that the person flying that is human, but also has an extra physical trait: wings. We’ve been going through the sample and we’ve found two recessive genes of what seems to be extra muscle mass and the other is an unknown. The sample was too small to do much more without destroying it.”

“Major, run the DNA reconstruction. We need to find the pilot of that plane.”

Author's Note

The frozen bread thing is real. I actually do that to stock up on bread while it’s cheap. Just defrost and enjoy.
The microwave I’m referring to is an old Amana model that my grandparents owned for well over forty years.
Also, beer bread is amazing. The best I’ve had was using a local brew called Leinenkugel’s Snowdrift Vanilla Porter, it’s a seasonal beer that has vanilla, cocoa, and coffee blended into it.
Hickory wood is notorious for being tough and stubborn to deal with, so you can guess the personality of Hickory Knot of being one stubborn SOB.
Gamer Luna, your argument is invalid.
The "DNA reconstruction" thing I mentioned is something I thought that we might have in the future for finding what a victim of a crime that happend looked like based on their dominant and recessive genes. Remember this is supposed to be 7 years in the future so we don't really know for certain what technologies will exist.
I'm also dropping some mad hints at plausible story arcs here in this chapter, hence the length of it being the longest chapter I've written in the story so far. One is going to be definite and will start up in the next chapter, the other two plausible ones still need to be planned out what I want to do for them.
As for the non-important characters in this chapter only one will get a name and will reappear in later chapters, the rest will not, hence no names.
I would like to believe that I edited this well, if I did not PM me or comment the mistake and I'll fix it ASAP.

Patch Notes

(5/13/14)
The music choice: To each their own. I was listening to it on my phone while writing that part.
Chromosomes: My apologies for not including "pairs" since humans have 23 PAIRS of chromosomes, 46 total. I blame liquor on this one... or lack of sleep. Regardless to an excuse from a while ago that no longer is valid, it's been changed.

Chapter 6.5: Spitfire's Diary (Part 1)

A/N: This chapter is a micro-chapter experiment which explores Spitfire's perspective on things without interrupting the story already in progress. These diary parts will take place during skips of time in which I think it's important to highlight some events taking place in said time skip. These will consist of either major events or seemly insignificant events which add up to something bigger. Being in the style of diaries they will have a day stamp as well as Spitfire being the "I" in these chapters, as aforementioned. The release schedule on these mini-chapters for right now will be shortly after the main chapter goes up or when I run into writer's block, or have to do a project and can only let one of these little chapters up. Sorry about taking up a whole bunch of space explaining that, enjoy the diary entries.

June 21, 2020

So it's been three days since I got here. On this new world of which I still have no idea how I got here. A lot has happened, mainly surviving in a desert, I never thought I'd have to do that. When I get back home I'm definitely making the rest of the teams do a desert survival course, maybe even a jungle and arctic class as well. I want to have all the bases covered.

So I met a nice guy. Or, well, not a nice guy at first. Then again I did sort of break into his house and used his shower without his permission. I did have karma come and get me because he questioned me for a good ten minutes while I was butt naked with a gun to my face, of which I should ask if I can take a look at it later, before he let me get dressed.

He asked me a bunch of questions concerning my history and home, of which it seems to be that home is a world inhabited by talking Technicolored ponies as interpreted by this world. Many things about this world echo mine. They have radios, but they're called television sets. Well they also have radios, but they're used as a different from what we use them as. Andrew and his people, the guy's name is Andrew by the way, use radios for mainly music and talk radio shows. The shows that we have on radios, you know the ones with stories attached for enjoyment purposes, are mainly on TV channels.

None of his people can fly without the assistance of airplanes, which we do have, but they have faster ones called jets. Of which I got to experience first hand while flying. They can easily break the sound barrier and cause a sonic boom and are much faster than any of us can fly, even the Wonderbolt candidate Rainbow Dash, which is astonishing indeed.

Where was I? Oh yes. So apparently Andrew is some sort of living lie detector because when I told him my story he believed it without any doubts, then again touching my wings to prove that I'm not a crack-rattled (note to self: ask what crack is) burglar with a obsession with augmentations (also ask what augmentations are, though I have an idea what they are). It was odd, it's been a while since someone touched my wings like that. Well others have touched them before, mainly masseuses, but they were also angels that understood where the erogenous zones are and how to avoid them; well unless you're getting an erotic massage, but that's another story all together.

Andrew said that he's going to take me to the mall tomorrow to get me some a week's worth of clothing because he has no idea how to get me home nor do I, but he said he'd look into it, or at least he hinted at that. He's being nice enough by offering his bed to me tonight to sleep in while he sleeps on his recliner. He also gave me this notebook where I can write my diary/journal in, I should get to sleep now, tomorrow's a new day.

June 22, 2020

Well Andrew took me to the mall and let me say it was an interesting experience. What could I possibly mean? Oh right, he slashed some bimbo's tires when she cut him off in the parking lot and took two parking spots by parking cockeyed. Let's just leave it at this, I wouldn't want to piss him off. He said that he was in the Army, the uniform that he was in last night would seem to support that statement.

Anyway back to the mall. We spent the better part of the day getting me stuff. Wearing the same sports bra for four days in a row is sort of uncomfortable, and walking around a mall in men's clothing made me feel a little self-conscious Which is the funny thing. I can prance and fly around in the skin tight flight suit that shows off my curves, buttocks, and breasts that are provided to the teams; but put me in men's clothes and I shy away. A total "what the fuck" moment

On to shopping though. I only tried on one pair of jeans, but that's because once I learned that the store's sizing worked the same way as it does back home I just grabbed six other pairs before moving on to shirts. I picked a variety of stuff from just your regular t-shirts to some nicer looking blouses. Who knows, maybe they'll be of use for me, especially if I get a job here. I like being laid back, but sometimes being dressed up is a good thing. Socks were pretty easy, I got a mix between short ones and longer ones.

We had a nice little lunch in the food court. It's amazing how similar things are here. That gives me a little homelike comfort, this will keep me from going bat-shit insane. I remember some of the comfort food that mom made me when I was having a bad day when I was a kid, grilled cheese and tomato soup. I should make it one of these days.

After we finished lunch Andrew and I made a bet on whoever could finish their shopping first. I went to buy lingerie, a week's worth of comfortable bras and panties, one set of comfortable sleepwear, and a pair of something sexy if I'm here long enough to make a relationship or attachment. Or a one night stand, who knows? Anything could happen.

Somehow Andrew managed to finish before me by both buying a new fancy phone like his, but he said that the "operating system" was different. I'll have to ask later what that means exactly. He also bought these awesome cinnamon rolls from this place in the mall. Actually I might have an idea how he beat me, I was trying to convert my sizes over when I didn't need to. Oh well, I only have to cook either breakfast or dinner for him tomorrow as per our bet. Maybe just an omelette and bacon? I should call it a night, I have to wake up early to make that breakfast.

June 23, 2020

So I made breakfast for Andrew this morning. He seemed to like it. I think I actually was lucky when cooking the bacon, I usually don't cook meat. Well I'll eat it if need be, but I don't eat it enough to actually know how to cook it exactly. Andrew could possibly show me, he talked about doing a barbecue sometime in the future. I did well on the eggs though, he seemed to like them.

Over breakfast I asked what "crack" is, it turns out it's an illegal narcotic drug which is highly addictive. He thought I was breaking into his house for money, or just squatting in it since he was gone. I guess in an odd way it makes sense. Then I asked what he meant by "augmented" when talking about my wings. It turns out there are people that surgically implant things into their skin more as a fashion statement more than anything else. External augmentations like wings are robotic and though they connect to the muscles in the back, they don't have any of the nerve endings attached to them or something like that. The most common kind are eye replacements for those with cataracts or lost eyes as well as limbs amputated. Interesting indeed. At least those unfortunate enough to have that happen again have a chance at a normal life.

I asked if Andrew could take me out shooting sometime, he said "maybe." I'm starting to think maybe he doesn't trust me with a weapon quite yet. Or he doesn't want to be shown up by a girl. Maybe a little both? He asked if I could fly again since I haven't shown him yet. I still have to see if I even can. I'll go out tonight after he nods off and I'll see if I even can.

June 24, 2020

I'm starting to feel guilty leeching off of Andrew. I asked if I could get any kind of job. He repeated the same thing he did the other day where I'd need papers or something involving the legal system. He said he'd ask around the neighborhood if anyone needed a babysitter. He's a nice guy, and I have to admit I'm starting to fall for him. Perhaps it's Stockholm syndrome (I looked it up on the internet) or just a crush? Or maybe it's something more? I don't know, I'm going to have to think about it.

June 29, 2020

Andrew is freaking awesome. He landed me this babysitting gig last week with this young mother next door. She needed me a few afternoons and nights a week. It only pays maybe $100 a day, but that's pretty good from what Andrew's told me. Little Elena is such a sweetheart. Based on what Andrew told me about kids this generation being spoiled brats Elena's mother must have been doing something right for her not to be a brat. She wants me to come back over tomorrow to sit until seven and I'll get another hundred. My pay doesn't really pay the bills all that much, but it does cover at least the food expenses though.

There's been some odd activity lately by the airbase, but Andrew said to dismiss it. He also said that sometimes air traffic got heaver by the base when they get supplies or when a shipment of troops is being brought back home or being shipped out. So it's nothing to worry about. Hopefully. I made some grilled cheese and tomato soup tonight since I thought it would be nice for us to swap off every once in a while. Tomorrow should be fun.

Author's Note

The diary entries for this part start back just before chapter 5 and cross over into chapter 6, sorry for any confusion that may have been spawned unto thee.
I would like to think that I caught all my errors, if not PM or comment it.

Chapter 7: Terms and Conditions May Apply*

Chapter 7: Terms and Conditions May Apply*

Chapter 7: Terms and Conditions May Apply

A few weeks have passed since Spitfire had arrived at my house. I treated her like a house guest, not much else happened between us. She made me breakfast the day after our bet. Omelets and bacon strips, simple yet delicious. She has technology nailed down, except for understanding code, which is understandable because even I don’t understand it fully. She’s a bit of a car junkie back home so I’ve let her look at my car from time to time to see how it all fits together. Needless to say that if she gets back home she’ll probably have the fastest car around.

The night of our bet I had set up the guest room, so she was appreciative of that. That and I think she felt a little guilty taking my bed while I slept on my couch or recliner. It’s not that they weren’t comfy at all, but they did put a crick or two in my neck when I woke up.

I managed to get an interview at the job my friend told me about. I was still waiting to hear back from the HR lady if I landed the job or not. It wasn’t anything fancy, mainly a first shift security guard gig at a construction site downtown. It paid pretty good money, but it’s only temporary since the construction would be done inside of a year.

Day to day life went pretty much the same way the last few weeks. I’d wake up at seven, run a good five miles out and back, shower, cook breakfast, and then wake up Spitfire if she hadn’t gotten up already. Occasionally I’d let her sleep in, but I’d usually get back at around nine. Afternoons were spent talking about her airshows that she and her squad put on and I would talk occasionally about my tour. Usually the nights were filled with classic movies. One of the first ones that I showed her was The Wizard of Oz, after all I did reference it when we first met. Sometimes we’d watch some primetime TV, but we have differences in show preferences so I’d put things on the DVR and watch my stuff at later times. Spitfire had landed a small babysitting job with my neighbor watching her nine year-old a few nights a week. It didn’t pay a whole lot, but it was better than nothing.

Today I was working on my motorcycle. I hadn’t ridden it since I was deployed and it really needed an oil change before I took it out. I don’t want a galled engine after all.

“Hey Andrew?” Spitfire said from the garage door. I turned around, she was wearing a short sleeved red blouse with a pair of blue jeans. “Mrs. MacAfee wants me to go over and watch her daughter again. I’ll be back around seven.”

“Sure, have fun. Text me if you’re going to be late,” I reply going back to checking the spark plug.

***

Area 51

The colonel stood in his office looking at a report on the airplane that had been completely reconstructed to its original condition before it had been blown to smithereens. He looked outside his office window and saw the endless expanse of desert heading up to a mountain. Over to the side he could see dual runways for test flights of different experimental aircrafts as well as flights from Vegas’s airport bringing the contracted employees in for their projects on base.

“Sir?” a male soldier said walking into his office. “We’ve found her. She’s staying with a released soldier named Andrew Briggs just outside of Phoenix.”

“Good. Have a surveillance drone in the air and get me on the first jet to Luke Air Force Base.”

“Yes sir, right away.”

‘Soon,’ he thought.

***

Canterlot castle

“Colonel Hickory Knot, do you have any news on the search?” Luna said from her throne. She was not in her sleeping attire, but in her figure hugging, yet flowing dress.

Hickory Knot had gotten little sleep over the last three weeks and Luna could see it in the bags under his eyes. “No your highness, it’s the same thing it’s been for the last month. No body or wreckage have been found by us or our Mareibbean friends. I’m sorry to say this, but I think she’s gone forever,” he said bowing his head in defeat.

“Very well,” she said rising from her seat. “Inform your search teams that they may return home. I will inform my sister of this development tomorrow. You are dismissed.”

Luna sat down and watched Hickory leave. When he turned the corner she sighed. It was not going to be a fun time telling Spitfire’s family that they had lost a daughter to a freak storm. She rubbed her temples and levitated a mug of coffee over from the table. Her arm markings glowed a dark blue, as did the mug. She took a sip and made a mental note to compliment the castle chef, she could make one damn good cup of coffee. “Must be from Coltlumbia,” she muttered.

“Luna?” came a female voice from her left. It was newly crowned princess Twilight Sparkle. “I heard what just happened.” She was wearing a white blouse and a long purple skirt.

“Did you, Twilight?’ she sighed and Twilight nodded. “It will not be an easy task telling Ms. Spitfire’s parents about her unfortunate death.” ‘Damn I wish I had some Irish cream for this coffee right now,’ she thought taking another sip.

“Well about that,” Twilight started taking out a spell book. “I’ve been looking into that storm that happened a month ago and I may have found something. I took a trip out with one of the search parties and did an aura scan of the place where the funnel cloud had enveloped Ms. Spitfire’s aircraft and I felt a small ping of residual magic.”

“What are you saying Twilight? That the storm was man-made and went haywire?”

“It seems that way, yes. And whatever charge was stored up in that cloud ripped Spitfire from our plane of existence and transported her elsewhere. Here I have a spell called ‘Bloodhound,’ it will search out any living being given a possession that the missing being owned or touched recently. I visited her quarters and borrowed an award she had gotten and used the spell on it. The spell lead me to a dead end in the middle of the air.”

Luna stood up wide-eyed, “So she didn’t die.”

“That seems to be the logical solution, yes,” Twilight said turning the book to another page. “I’m trying to trace it further but an immense amount of power is needed to breach our dimension. I’ll probably have to ask your sister as well, but I’d like to use the Elements to attempt to boost the spell.”

Luna rubbed her forehead. “I agree whilist the Elements will boost whatever spell you’re attempting to put together, there are immense risks including magic overload which can be lethal. Ask my sister in the morning, this needs to be a decision that we all agree on.”

***

Andrew’s House

I finish reconstructing the bike after doing maintenance on it. I started the engine and heard the patented Harley Davidson engine sound associated with it. I unlocked my phone and went to my text messages and sent a text to Spitfire.

‘Spits, going out to test-drive my bike. If you beat me home there’s some food in the fridge.

-Andrew’

I pressed send and listened for my pre-programed text sound to go off. She replied ‘K. Have fun –Spits.’ And with that I pocketed my phone and grabbed my leather jacket, because road rash sucks ass. I’ve seen enough YouTube videos to know that one. I put on my visor helmet and took a quick look at my watch: 6:30pm. A quick run down to the freeway and back should be a good enough test. I took off nice and slow, enjoying the ride.

***

An inconspicuous black van drove onto the street in front of Andrew’s house. Inside the six armor clad figured checked their weapons and magazines. Each had black helmets and balaclavas over their faces to conceal their identities.

“UAV is on station,” one said. “Zero heat signatures inside.”

“Garage door is open,” a second chimed in.

“Copy that, move in,” came a voice over the radio.

The six quickly moved across the street to avoid detection and went inside the garage. Opening the door, which was unlocked, they went inside. They took up three positions, each holding two of the team members. Two at the front door, two at the back door, and two on the garage door.

“Remember, tranquilizers only. We want both of them alive,” came the voice again over the radio. It was now time to wait.

***

“So Elena, what did you think of dinner?” Spitfire asked the young girl.

“Well Ms. Smith I thought it was awesome! You cooked that?” Elena asked.

“Why thank you,” Spitfire replied taking the plate and placing it in the sink to soak. Spitfire had taken on the façade of ‘Ms. Smith’ because Spitfire wasn’t a name that many people heard of.

“Girls? Are you here?” called Elena’s mother.

“We’re in the kitchen,” Elena yelled back.

“Well I see you’re both well and the house didn’t burn down. How did it go?”

“Well we played a few board games, watched a little TV, and read a book. All in all not a bad day,” Spitfire replied.

“Well that’s good then,” Elena’s mother said pulling out her wallet handing Spitfire a $100 bill. “I think this should cover today.”

Spitfire took it and placed it in her pocket, “Thanks Mrs. MacAfee. Call me if you need me again.” She left and walked down to the end of the block where Andrew’s was. The walk was uneventful, the only thing that looked out of place was a Time-Warner Cable van across the street from the house. ‘Maybe the neighbor across the street is getting cable?’ she thought to herself, shrugging it off.

She pulled out the house key that Andrew had made for her and unlocked the front door and walked in. “Andrew, you here?” she called out. She closed and locked the door behind her. She heard a sharp ‘pfft’ and a pinching feeling on her neck. She reached for it and pulled it out to find a needle with a patch of red fuzz on the end.

“What th-” was all she managed to get out before passing out on the ground, surrendering to the blackness.

***

“Target one is secure,” one soldier said taking the unconscious woman off to the hallway.

“Copy that, stay on station for the homeowner. Remember we also need him alive,” the voice came over the radio.

“Roger that.”

***

I pulled into the garage. The ride had gone smoothly. No odd engine sounds and the acceleration was excellent as well. The only thing I had to do was stop at a gas station and re-pressurize the tires. I cut the engine and took off my helmet, placing it on one of the handlebars so that it hung there. I unzipped the leather jacket and stepped inside.

“Hey Spits, you home?” I called.

I heard a silenced shot and a pinch on my neck. I pulled at it and found a dart, more precisely a tranquilizer dart.

“Mother fu-” I fell to the floor, fading to black.

***

“Target two is secure,” a soldier said.

“Copy that. Good work, bring them to the extraction site.”

***

???

Spitfire started to stir. She felt like she had been whammied by the date-rape drug, groggy mainly. As she opened her eyes she saw that she was in a confined space with a curved ceiling, and it was less than a foot in front of her. She started freaking out. Her, like many of her fellow angels, have an extreme distaste for confined spaces. AKA claustrophobia.

“GET ME OUT OF HERE!” she screamed.

“Ma’am, please calm down or we will be forced to sedate you,” a female dressed in white said just within her peripheral vision.

“Nurse, get her under control now. We need to finish the MRI,” a male voice said coming over an intercom system.

“What’s going on? Who are you? Where am I? Where’s Andrew?” she asked each in a flurry, still thrashing against the restraints that kept her in the humming contraption.

“Nurse, sedate her!” the doctor said. Spitfire felt a needle jab into her leg and felt a warmth fill her from the legs up slowly pulling her back into unconsciousness again.

***

I started to come to. My mind felt as if it had been binge drinking again, something that I haven’t done since my 21st birthday. My vision is fuzzy but as I reach up to wipe the ‘sandman’ from my eyes I could feel one of my wrists has been restrained. I look and see that I was indeed cuffed to an interrogation table, sitting across from me was a middle-aged Latino man with black hair, with a few bald spots on the back.

“PFC Andrew Briggs?” I nodded. “Welcome back, I didn’t think you were going to wake up for a few more hours,” he said with a chuckle. I tugged again at the restraint on my wrist, “Sorry about that. Protocol and all. Why don’t you answer my questions and we’ll get you out of here, ok?”

“Who are you and where am I? And can I get a drink of water here, I’m parched?”

“My name is Colonel James Hernandez of the US Air Force. Welcome to Area 51,” he answered. The door to the room opened and in came a female soldier in full body armor carrying a pitcher of ice cold water and two glasses, I could tell since there was ice in it.

The colonel brought a tablet to the table and pressed record. “The day is July 30, 2020, 18:45 Pacific time. Colonel James Hernandez USAF interviewing PFC Andrew Briggs US Army. Mr. Briggs, how long has the winged person been living with you?” he asked.

“Her name is Spitfire and I’m not telling you any more until I know she’s safe,” I spit out.

“Don’t worry, she’s in another lab having some tests done,” he said not looking up from the tablet. I start yanking on the cuff attempting to get free with zero success. “Don’t worry, just blood and bone marrow samples along with MRI’s, X-rays, and CT scans. What do you think we are, brutes? 99.999% of her is human after all.”

I relaxed a little, “I want to see her.”

“After we’re done here, she has been sedated for the time being, she was freaking out during a standard MRI procedure. Again, how long has she been living with you?”

“About a month.”

“Where is she from?”

“From a country called Equestria on a planet called Equis. And before you ask I have no idea where it is.”

“She has wings, can she fly?”

“As far as she has told me she can, but due to sort of hiding in plain sight she hasn’t had the chance to show me.”

“Is she controlling your mind?”

“Really? That’s the question you ask?” I said with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m kidding, can’t a guy have a sense of humor?” he said with a chuckle. “Has she told you about her people’s level of technology?”

“From what she’s told me it’s similar to pre or post Second World War.”

“When we examined her DNA we found recessive genes for increased strength and one unknown one that radiated an unknown form of energy, did she ever talk to you about that.”

“Well she said that there are three subsections of people in her society. There are the angels, people like her. Then there are the Earthborn, those of increased strength and stamina. And then there are the mages, which are able access the mana, or magic, in the air and bend it to their whim, assuming they have gotten training. She said they tend to intermarry so sometimes you’ll have a rare occurrence where two of the same race mate but get one of the other two because of those recessive genes.”

“You said magic, right?”

“Yeah, I think it’s just their way of describing telekinesis, teleportation, and other science. As for mana, the power source it comes from? I honestly have no idea, she doesn’t seem to know either.”

“Did she ever explain how she got here?”

“She said that she was flying in their equivalent of the Bermuda triangle when a cloud swallowed her up and showed up in upstate Arizona. As for how it happened, neither of us have a clue.”

He pressed stop on the recording. “I think that will do it for now. I’ll take you to go see your friend now. Just a heads up but she’ll be konked out for a good hour or so. Corporal,” he said and a solder came in and unlocked the cuff on my wrist, “please take Mr. Briggs here to the infirmary.” He turned to me, “We’ll talk later when she’s awake.”

I was lead out of the room and into an elevator. A few dozen floors later the doors opened and I was lead into a pure white room with numerous beds and smelled like antiseptic. The despised hospital smell, oh how I loathe it. I saw Spitfire in one of the beds, her chest rising and falling slowly synonymous with sleep. I saw two needle holes that were covered by gauze, blood spots on them. I sat down and I took her hand.

Was I falling for her? I mean we lived with each other for the last month. We talked, we laughed, and we watched classic movies as well as TV shows. We didn’t go out at all since we just didn’t. I saw it on her face whenever she watched the Travel channel from time to time, she wanted to get out and explore my world. Maybe once we got out of here we would. Assuming that they let us out at all. I pulled my chair closer to the bed and started nodding off. Today had been a long day.

***

Spitfire felt groggy. Her eyesight was fuzzy as she opened her eyes. She raised a hand to rub her eyes and found that there was a warm pressure on it. She tilted her heavy feeling head and saw that Andrew was sitting next to her bed with his hand on hers. She turned her hand over so their palms touched and fit her fingers between Andrew’s.

‘Does he love me?’ she thought. ‘Do I love him? Sure I trust him to take care of me, but love? Maybe? If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen.’

She slowly started to drift back into unconsciousness, but not because of medication, but from pure exhaustion.

***

I woke up groggy with a crick in my neck. Or at least I hope that it’s a crick since I fell asleep in a chair while slouched down holding Spitfire’s hand. I looked over to her and saw that she had a small smile on her face. The sedatives probably wore off and she was able to get some decent sleep, hopefully.

I heard about the MRI from one of the nurses, I had attempted to explain that she was very claustrophobic and that the larger the space, the better. The nurse had said that there were people like that on base, but never had a reaction quite that severe. I heard a groan and looked over to Spitfire, she was stirring from her sleep.

She turned to me with a smile, “‘Morning.”

“Hey there sleepy, how are you doing?” I asked gently, my hand still holding hers.

“Ok, I think. I had a dream where I was in a white tunnel and it was humming real loudly.”

“Well I hate to burst your bubble, but that wasn’t a dream,” I say gripping her hand a little tighter. “We were abducted by the military and they were running tests on you. You freaked out in the middle of a MRI scan and they had to sedate you.” She let go of my hand and started inspecting herself for anything that might be missing. I grabbed her hand and gently pushed her back down. “Don’t worry, they were all non-invasive tests. Magnetic Resonance Imaging scans, Computer Tomography scans, X-rays, some drawn blood, and a little bone marrow all for testing.”

“So… they didn’t cut me open?”

“I don’t think anyone, unless they were utterly sick in the head, could cut open another living human in good conscience.”

A nurse brought over pink scrubs and a pair of slippers, “These are for her.”

Spitfire looked at herself and saw that she was naked except for a medical gown. She let go of my hand and quickly grabbed the blanket on the bed and pulled it up to her head to cover herself more than she already was. The nurse pulled privacy curtains around the bed as she left.

“I’ll step just outside while you change, ok?” I said in a reassuring tone. She only nodded and I went outside the curtains. She took a few minutes but she came out wearing the scrubs. A black clad soldier with an assault rifle strode over.

“The colonel wants to see you two. Follow me,” he said. He led us out of the infirmary and into another elevator. It took a minute and the doors opened again and lead us to an office. He knocked on the door and an “enter” was said from the other side. As the door opened I saw that the colonel was at a mahogany desk reading a file folder. I turned my head to see that he had an office above ground with a view. I guess power has its privileges.

He looked up from the folder and when he saw us he stood up, “Ah Mr. Briggs and Miss Spitfire, is it? Please have a seat,” he said gesturing to the two leather chairs in front of his desk. “We need to discuss your futures.”

We all take a seat. “What are you going to do with me?” Spitfire says with a worried tone.

“Nothing,” Colonel Hernandez replied flatly.

“Nothing?” I said in disbelief.

“Nothing,” he repeated. “We have what we need to continue our experiments without your presence at this facility.”

“Then does that mean we can go-?” Spitfire started to ask.

“Not exactly,” he replied and Spitfire’s hopeful disposition fell faster than a stone down a well who's center was a black hole.

“Well why not?” I asked with an aggravated undertone.

“Because right now she,” he pointed to Spitfire, “is a biological asset which could bring us to the next step in human evolution. Think about it. Being able to fly to work every day instead of the monotonous drive. Being able to teleport and use telekinesis to levitate objects at your own whim. Being able to lift three to four times your own body weight. Think of not only how this could affect us militarily but sociologically. And that’s just scratching the surface of her DNA.

“You’re not out of this either Mr. Briggs. You’re the only person that she trusts in this entire nation, if not the world. So as of this morning you have been re-enlisted in the Air Force. And as of now you’ve been promoted to Lieutenant, congratulations. Your first assignment will be protecting Ms. Spitfire here,” he finished. He then reached in a desk drawer and brought out a keycard and badge with my name and new rank already printed on it.

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you,” he said to Spitfire. He pulled out of the drawer a passport, driver’s license, birth certificate, and tax returns. “As of this morning you are an American citizen, with all its perks and privileges.”

Spitfire looked at him with a confused expression, “Owning property, driving cars, and able to get a job,” I said.

“Precisely. Also while I know your name is Spitfire, on the birth certificate there, would you go ahead and read the name?”

Spitfire picked up the heavy stock paper and read, “‘Samantha Pyre. Born August 20, 1996 at Columbia St. Mary’s Milwaukee, WI.’ What is this? That isn’t my name,” she retorted.

“While that may be true, your name is abnormal in our society and would stick out more than your hair, no offense. We created this alias for you. You would not believe how hard it is to inject a new identity with extensive background history extended back to your written birth date including falsified records including a high school diploma as well as a degree in aeronautics from MIT,” he said with a straight face before cracking up. “Who am I kidding? I’m part of a secret government organization. We can do anything we want! Hell I could make you a general overnight if I wanted to.” His laughter ceased, “But seriously. You can still go by your name, but officially on the records we have you’ll still be Samantha Pyre.

“The last thing that is to the terms of your release is that you will remain in the vicinity of Las Vegas for the duration of our experiments in case we need more samples or for you to either demonstrate or explain something. Your official occupation on base Miss Spitfire will be a civilian contracting consultant.”

“But what about my house in Phoenix?” I asked.

“All of your possessions are in the middle of being moved as we speak to the new house arranged for you two in the Vegas suburbs,” he replied. “Keep your phones on and at hand, we may need you at any time. As for restrictions, do not leave the county without forewarning. We have your numbers.”

We stood up to leave. Spitfire grabbing the papers and me grabbing the keycard and clipping it on my pants. “One last thing, feel free to head down to the cafeteria for breakfast, I’m pretty sure both of you are famished. A plane leaving for Vegas will be heading out at 5pm, make sure you’re there.” We left the office, the soldier from before leading the way.

Author's Note

Yep there’s another horse pun there. And there.
True story, Harley Davidson had a frickin’ patent on the sound their engines make from 1994-2000. No bull! Just look it up.
The house burning down part? That came from a grease fire that I had narrowly avoided when cooking a hamburger. Let's just say I'm much more careful around the stove now.
Well that resolved itself nicely. For now.
I would like to think I caught all my errors, if I didn't go ahead and prove me wrong by commenting it or PMing me.

Patch Notes

(5/14/14)
Percentage: Yeah, my bad. Fixed to a more reasonable number. Leaves a little wiggle room for what is in later chapters.

Chapter 8: Shenanigans!*

Chapter 8: Shenanigans!*

A/N: Some scenes in this chapter may be slightly suggestive, but are not classified as mature.

Chapter 8: Shenanigans!

???

I start pulling myself out of the darkness of sleep only to get slammed with a massive headache. I open my eyes and the fogginess that fills them slowly dissipates revealing a white ceiling with a really nice looking crown molding. My senses slowly start to come back. First up is taste, which isn’t much because my mouth feels like the Sahara desert, which I’m betting is from drinking too much. I do taste the aftertaste of a fruity drink involving rum though.

My hearing came back and I could hear my breathing as well as another’s. Spitfire must be sleeping nearby. Slowly the senses in the rest of my body, primarily touch, started to come back more prominently. As it did I felt a warm presence on my chest as well as a larger warmth coming from my entire left side. I look down to see a lithe arm crossing my chest, her (or at least I'm hoping that it's a her) fingers wrapped around my ribs. My eyes follow the arm which is connected to Spitfire, who is as naked as a jaybird with her breasts squished against the left side of my torso, and her left leg crossed around with mine. One of her wings had been wrapped around me as well contributing to the warmth I felt.

At that moment the third and final sign of a hangover showed up: the nausea. I pried off Spitfire’s as gently and as quickly as I could and I hightailed it to the bathroom where I found solace in worshiping the porcelain throne. I puked my guts out until I dry heaved. Fucking hangovers.

I went over to the mirror and splashed water on my face trying to get a grasp on the whole situation. Spitfire is buck naked in a bed cuddling with me, who is just as naked in what looks to be a hotel room. I have a monster hangover which means I got tanked last night. My hips and hipflexors feel like I’ve been on a bull ride. I lift my hands to rub my temples when I feel a cold piece of metal on my left ring finger. I quickly move my hand from my head and right into my line of sight. On it is a gold wedding band.

I walk back to the bed and find at least four open and used condoms, as well as the wrappers, scattered around the bed, floor, and bedside table. I then put the first pieces of the puzzle that was last night together: I had gotten blitzed, which Spitfire may also be included in that, and we had sex. At least four rounds by the evidence left behind.

I walked over to Spitfire and shook her shoulder gently, “Wake up.”

She started to stir, “Uhhh,” she groaned. “What happened last night?” She sat up a bit grabbing her head. “Why do you look naked and why do I have a migraine?”

“Well… we got drunk last night… and we had sex,” I replied. She immediately blushed after looking at my naked body and her own eyes shifting to her own nudity. She reached down and pulled up a sheet from the bed. I grabbed a robe and put it on. I brought one over for her too and turned around as she put it on.

“Why is there a diamond ring on my ring finger?” she asked lifting her hand close enough to look at the stone. It was massive!

“That’s the one I’m still working on,” I reply showing her my own ring. Then a knock on the door came and we both groaned in pain from the volume of it.

“Room service,” a muffled male voice said from the other side of the door. I opened the door to see a bellhop. “Delivery for you sir,” he said handing over a gift basket. I gave him a $5 and closed the door. I took it to the table and saw that it had a card in it, so I took it out and read it out loud.

“‘Congratulations on your sudden wedding. Sorry I couldn’t attend on such short notice. May you have many of years of bliss ahead of you. Have fun. –Colonel Hernandez.’” I set the note down to see Spitfire blushing while holding a massive box of condoms. Subtle boss, subtle. I looked at the table and found a marriage license for ‘Andrew Briggs’ and ‘Samantha “Spitfire” nee Pyre.’ Well it was official, that’s for sure.

“Well Spits, I think I have a good idea about what happened last night,” I say pulling out a chair for me and her sitting on the bed. “It started when we took off from the runway at Area 51-”

***

Canterlot Castle, 13 hours earlier

“So Twilight, why are we here again?” a young mage woman with blue marks on her arms said. She was wearing a white dress that would be classified as formal wear. The rest of the group entered the chamber and the door closed behind them.

“Well Rarity I need the Elements of Harmony to charge a conduit to allow me to use a spell to find where Spitfire went and-” Twilight said.

“SPITFIRE’S STILL ALIVE?!?” a rainbow haired angel clad in a cyan hooded sweatshirt and track pants exclaimed.

Twilight stuck her finger in her ears to get rid of the ringing in her ears, “Yes Rainbow Dash, I suspect that she may be marooned on another dimension or world and she can’t return home.”

“And this here condu-hoosit-whatsit will help how?” asked a blonde haired Stetson wearing earthborn.

“Well Applejack it’ll help by allowing me to perform a scrying spell that will allow me to see where Spitfire is and will allow me to figure out how much mana it’ll take to open a portal to bring her home.”

“Well why don’t you use that mirror that’s still in the Crystal Empire?” a poofy-haired earthborn said bouncing around the room looking at every little thing.

“Well Pinkie that mirror is permanently linked to that anthropomorphic cat world by a steady stream of magic from our end and magnetic forces from theirs. To cut that stream off would be possibly catastrophic for both of our worlds,” Twilight replied.

“How long is this going to take, if you don’t mind my asking? I need to go feed Angel or he’ll get fussy again,” a pink haired angel said, trying to hide behind Applejack in an attempt to not be there.

“Well Fluttershy if everything goes according to plan it’ll only take a few minutes to charge the conduit needed to fuel the spell,” Twilight replied and Fluttershy seemed to be satisfied with the answer. Twilight’s mana field flared purple and before her appeared the Elements. “Girls, if you would please,” she said gesturing to the summoned necklaces.

The girls put on their appropriate jewel embedded necklace and stood in a circle around the gold wrapped gem conduit. “Ready?” Twilight asked and the girls responded with nods. Her eyes glowed white as her markings on her arms glowed a bright lavender. She started to levitate as the rest of the bearers started to levitate as well. Each beam shot from their respective bearer’s necklace directly at Twilight’s crown making it glow brighter before it discharged a rainbow beam at the gem.

The beam made the gem glow bright white, as if it were going to melt into slag right in front of them. Time seemed to stretch on for hours before Twilight cut the spell and each bearer floated slowly to the ground. The air was hot from the heat of the gem in the small space. A few drops of sweat dripped off the young women in the room just from the heat itself and not the spell.

“So, now what?” Dash asked. Twilight levitated the gem from its pedestal to a pronged holding stand and let it cool down by casting a gentle freezing spell on it to make it safe to touch.

“Now I can cast a spell using the energy in the gem as fuel to view the place where Spitfire is,” Twilight replied as she put together the necessary spells that needed to be used in tandem to use the spell including but not limited to scrying and keeping a teleportation tunnel open for an enlongated amount of time, but also not forgetting a shield to protect those in the room from any odd radiation from in between worlds.

She linked the combined spells to the gem and cast it on a large mirror that had been set up earlier in the day. Slowly the surface rippled as two figures came into view. One was Spitfire and the other one was a male that looked about her age. They were sitting in some nice looking seats with small windows that showed a wing outside of it.

“Where is she?” Applejack asked.

“It’s a plane silly!” Pinkie said now wearing an airline captain’s hat.

“Who’s that with her?” Rainbow asked with a slight tinge of annoyance that her childhood hero was with a man.

“No clue,” Twilight replied. “Let’s just watch and see what’s going on.”

***

A/N: This next section will have some commentary from the Mane 6, but whenever it is in italics and single quotes and Andrew and Spitfire can’t hear it.

Area 51 runway, 5pm

Spitfire and I were seated on the plane. It was a newer DC model that superseded the DC-10 model or something like that, I never was the plane expert. There were at least twenty other people on the plane with us both military and civilian contractors alike. Spitfire was now dressed in a white collared blouse and a pair of jeans as well as a pair of one inch heeled boots. And now insert that song that had boots in it from the second Shrek movie.

For some reason I felt someone looking at me, I turned around for a second and saw that everyone behind us were reading books or were getting themselves settled in for the short flight.

“Something wrong?” Spitfire asked.

“No… I just thought someone was staring at us. Weird,” I replied.

‘He thought he almost felt us watching?’ Rarity asked. ‘I thought they couldn’t see or hear us.’

‘Maybe someone was looking at him for a second,” Twilight replied.

The plane started moving forward towards the runway. As I looked out the window I saw a stealth fighter jet take off in the opposite direction. This base was like any other Air Force base with planes constantly coming in and out with supplies for the personnel on base. I even saw some of those rumored black helicopters on a helipad while we were waiting for the plane earlier. Seems like there’s a grain of truth in those conspiracy theories after all.

“Hey Andrew, do you have any other tattoos?” Spitfire asked.

'His name is Andrew apparently,’ Twilight said answering Dash’s question from earlier.

“Yeah I’ve got one other one,” I said rolling up my left sleeve to show her the tattoo that I got shortly after getting my nickname by my squad.

She looked at a good minute or two before giving me a quizzical look. “It’s a ‘killjoy.’” Still nothing, “My nickname when I was overseas was ‘killjoy’ and this is the killjoy medal from the Halo series.”

‘Oh I get it!” Pinkie said. ‘It’s a smiley face that has the “no not enter” symbol on it.’

‘So he hates joy?’ Applejack asked. ‘How can anyone hate being happy?’

‘It has to do with him saying something was dangerous to one of his squad mates and that earned him the nickname ‘killjoy.’”

‘Pinkie, how would you know-? You know what, never mind,’ Twilight said.

The flight attendants told us to turn off any electronic items, which by the way were returned when we entered the plane, and were also told to fasten seatbelts and put our trays in the “locked and upright position." The plane taxied onto the runway and I waited my favorite part of any flight: the take off. I mean who DOESN’T like being pressed into their seat as the plane speeds up and gets into the air? Ok maybe those who get motion sick, but you know what I mean.

The plane finally took off and the flight took no more than ten minutes. Spitfire would have been confused on how fast we were going, but I showed her some schematics of how a jet engine worked a few weeks ago and she seemed to understand it, mostly. Well a pilot needs to know their machine, right? So she must have had some knowledge of working on engines.

‘That is going mighty fast there,’ Applejack commented seeing the speed at which the clouds outside were going.

‘Much faster than our propeller planes, that’s for sure,’ Dash added. ‘But not as fast as me.’

We landed at the airport and departed the terminal. Without any luggage this was done quite quickly. Now if only every trip through the airport could be made this fast. Stupid TSA and their sluggishness.

“You know what?” I asked Spitfire. “We should go celebrate your new citizenship.”

“Well what would you suggest?” she asked in return.

I thought for a second, “I know of a few Vegas bars we could go to,” I say pulling out my phone’s map app. “Here’s one.”

“Sounds… interesting.”

I hailed a cab and we got inside, “Take us to… The End.”

***

The End, 7pm

We arrived at the bar while it is still closed, but the line to get in in about an hour has already started to form. “Why are we waiting again?” Spitfire asked.

‘Yeah why are they waiting?’ Dash echoed.

“Well it’s a popular bar. A few years back it was fixed up on a show called Bar Rescue and the guy who did the remodel did give this bar some fame. Plus it’s got dancing as well as the drinks.”

As we waiting for the bar to open, we got bored so Spitfire and I started to watch some shows on my phone. Thank God for season passes to shows as well as large phone memories. Technology’s never ending journey has come a long way. The line finally started moving a part of the way through an episode of Dr. Who. I believe this was their fifty-seventh year of airing episodes, but of course I could be mistaken.

As we walked in I could hear the bass line of whatever song was playing in the bar. The door opened and we were hit by a wall of sound and cool air. Grabbing Spitfire’s hand I lead her to the main bar and ordered two house drinks. It only took two minutes considering the entire bar was swamped, damn they’re fast. We downed a few more assorted drinks from margaritas to whiskey sours. We spaced out the drinks with some water and food to help not getting too wasted. Then someone had the wise idea, not me, to do a few rounds of shots.

“Hey baby,” a man said to Spitfire. “How ‘bout you come home with me?” he flashed her a grin.

“Hey buddy, she’s with me,” I replied in an annoyed tone.

“Well maybe then we can share her then, if you know what I mean,” he said with a cheesy smile.

Spitfire and I stand up and a smile came to the creep’s face, thinking he was going to have his proposal accepted. I throw a jab in his larynx causing him to not being to shout and Spitfire swiftly kicks him in the balls making a sound similar to wet cabbage being smashed by a baseball bat, or that’s just what my mind filled in, and he crumpled to the ground on his knees.

‘Oooooh!’ the girls present cringed.

‘That had ta hurt,’ Applejack commented.

‘At least this Andrew fellow is a decent gentleman, though his methods are a little uncouth,’ Rarity added. Rainbow nodded in agreement that he wasn’t an ass at least.

‘Something about the creepy man doesn’t seem right,’ Fluttershy commented.

'Fluttershy, you're still here?' Twilight asked.

'I sent a message to Spike and said I was going to be staying here a little longer. He replied that he would get Angel fed for me.'

“Pig!” Spitfire yells loud enough for the bar’s bouncer to hear, then follows up with by spitting on him and dumping a still standing glass of beer on him. The bouncer arrives and grabs the creep and takes him away, I’m going to assume being thrown out near the dumpsters in back.

“The nerve of people like him,” Spitfire said sitting down before downing another shot.

I sat down, “Have you had to deal with people like that before?”

“I have, as have the Wonderbolts in the past, but never quite that bold before.”

‘Is that true Dashie?’ Pinkie asked.

‘Well Wonderbolts initiates, candidates, and members do get hit on by both genders for anything between a one night stand to a long lasting relationship. Most times they are shallow and want the money of the people they’re trying to woo,’ Dash replied. ‘I’ve had a few come up to me after my time at the Flight School, but I’ve never took them up on it.’

“Well I hope that guy is in pain because he honestly deserves it,” I reply.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Spitfire asked.

“Do you know what? Yes I would. I’ve always wanted to go do something that you can only do in Vegas,” I said with a smile.

‘What is he talking about?’ Twilight asked.

***

Bellagio Casino, 11pm

“Twenty-one,” the dealer said.

Around me people cheered as the dealer pushed my winnings towards the rest of my pile. What was I at now? Fifty thousand? Sixty thousand? No matter, it’s still a shit ton of cash. I had won money and lost it, but it had slowly accumulated over the last two hours. I had bought into the table with a little under two hundred and I’m fucking rich!

The server brought me another glass of Southern Comfort, this had to be the fourth glass they’ve brought me this hour alone. I should be dead by now from the alcohol alone. I placed another bet of $10k and watched the cards get put in front of me. The dealer has a seven of clubs and I have a ten of diamonds and a three of spades.

“Hitsme,” I say with a slur. He turns over the next card and it’s an eight of diamonds. That gives me twenty-one, again. The last deal had been an automatic win with an ace of spades and king of diamonds. The dealer turned over his card, a four of diamonds. He turned over another and revealed an eight of spades. That gives him nineteen. He turns over another card and reveals it to be a five of clubs.

“The house has busted, the player wins,” the dealer said pushing my winnings towards me.

‘Damn that guy is lucky,’ Dash stated the obvious.

‘How much is their money worth? Surely that amount in chips has to be quite an amount of money to draw that amount of attention,’ Rarity asked.

‘I don’t know, but if that crowd’s anything to go off of based off a trip that I may or may not have taken with Luna a few months ago to Los Pegasus, a lot,’ Twilight replied. The girls looked at her like they were looking at a whole different person. ‘What?’

‘Nothin,’’ Applejack replied pretty much answering for the rest of the girls.

“Shay Andrew,” Spitfire slurred, “yous should conshider callin’ it a night.” Spitfire had been drinking quite a bit. Apparently the casino floor manager thought that she was my card counter and was sending me signals. They soon learned that wasn’t the case. We took my winning to the checkout window and collected around thirty-five thousand after taxes, damn gaming taxes. We left the window with a duffel bag full of cash.

We rounded a corner and Spitfire pushed me against the wall and kissed me in one of those sloppy drunken kisses. Me being drunk, I melted into the kiss. It must have lasted a few minutes before we pulled apart because quite a few people walked past us clearing their throats as they passed by. One even said, “Get a room!”

“I loves yous,” Spitfire said drunkenly. “You’ve taken caresh of meh evar since ah gots here.” She planted another drunken kiss on my lips.

“I loves you too,” I also say slurred. I kiss her this time and time seems to slow down to a standstill. We separate again, “I’ve got an idea,” I say grabbing her hand and dragging her behind me. We both stumbled down the hallway. We find ourselves in the hotel’s 24-hour jewelry store. “Two rings mah good ladah,” I say drunkenly to the clerk.

I don’t take that long to pick one for me, a gold band. But I take a long time to choose the second one. Being drunk my eye drifted to the shiniest thing on display. “That one,” I said pointing to the shiny diamond ring. It only set me back a few thousand out of my newly found fortune. I took her hand and then lead her to a chapel. Who of all people would be the minister? Elvis. Or an Elvis impersonator. Ten minutes later we were signing a marriage certificate.

‘Wait, she didn’t get married in a casino chapel, did she?’ Dash said in disbelief.

‘That’s a marriage certificate, Dash. It’s legally binding according to what I’m seeing here,’ Twilight replied.

“Weshould continue the feshtivities upstairs,” Spitfire slurred.

***

Canterlot Castle

The mirror followed them to a hotel room and inside they started taking each other’s clothing off until they were naked. The girls blushed and Twilight quickly terminated the spell leaving the mirror its reflective self again.

“Uh Twi, what just happened?” Applejack asked.

“I’m going to need some maximum strength mind bleach after seeing that,” Pinkie said taking out none other than a bottle of 'mind bleach' and a funnel, and started pouring it in her ear, the liquid flowing out the other side. “Ah. Much better. What were we talking about?”

“I think I have all the data I need to start figuring out the portal spell,” Twilight said.

***

Hotel Room, present time

“-And that’s what happened,” I finished.

“So we got wasted, confessed love to each other, got married in a casino’s wedding chapel, and fucked our brains out,” Spitfire said looking again at the ring on her finger.

“Well if you want to be blunt, yes.”

“So now what?”

“Well, we could either put up a façade of being a married couple and just live like we’ve been doing for the last month or so.”

“Or-”

“Or we could attempt to be a married couple. I mean we both said we loved each other, even if we were both smashed to bits when we said it. Booze removes inhibitions and it isn’t called liquid courage for nothing. I mean we are married as stated by this certificate, we could give it a try.”

“And if it falls apart?”

“I remember a wise man saying once, ‘marriage isn’t just working through the easy times, but the tough times as well.’”

“Sounds like a wise man indeed. Was it your father that said it?”

I rubbed the back of my head in embarrassment, “Well actually I sort of paraphrased what a character on a TV show said one time. But that doesn’t make it irrelevant though.”

Spitfire sat there for a moment leaving us in a very uncomfortable silence, “Well I’m willing to give a try if you’re willing to. So what now?” Spitfire asked.

“Well I think it would be appropriate if we got dressed, and then we can find that house that our mutual boss has arranged for us.”

***

“The End” back alley, 10 hours ago

The disheveled man picked himself up from the trash heap and stumbled out of the alley towards his car. He was angry. No. He was pissed. His larynx was hurting, but not as bad as the family jewels.

‘She’s just like all the others. And she’ll suffer like them too,’ he thought.

*And fade to black with ominous music playing*

Author's Note

The “nee” part for those who don’t understand law is the name of the person who decided to give up their last name in the marriage. Confusing, yes, but that’s how law is.
And I made a little EQG reference/parody there. As said in Bioshock Infinite’s Burial at Sea DLC, “Differences and variables.”
I am not hinting that Rainbow Dash is a lesbian, but think about it, would you want your childhood hero with a “random?” I know I wouldn’t, hence her reaction.
I am placing the start of the story before the start of season 4 however there will be some parts of season 4 that will appear as they happen on the show. Changes will be made as necessary to keep the continuity of the show intact as well as this story’s story.
Yes I bash the TSA because who hasn’t been pissed at them while going through security?
“The End” is a zombie apocalypse themed bar in Vegas that my girlfriend and I really want to visit one of these days.
Believe it or not spacing out your drinks with water actually allows you to prolong your "drinking experience," hence the reason I mention it in the story.
And now we have a hint at one of the games that Luna plays.
I also paraphrased a quote from the show Bones there, can you find it? If so, kudos.
I’m dropping some big hints here at a two chapter arc I’ve got in the works.
Also this is what Andrew's "Killjoy" tattoo looks like:

As usually stated I would love to believe that I've caught all of my mistakes, but you know how some just slip through the cracks. If I've missed any comment them or PM me and I'll fix them ASAP.

Patch Notes

(5/14/14)
Plane: Text changed to insinuate that it is a newer model that would fit the future while still keeping the image of the DC-10 that we know of.
Tattoos: Ok now this could get a little confusing because Andrew sort of follows my personal moral code, which you guys obviously would have no idea of without me telling you first. Tangent aside it is the be assumed that Andrew didn't show off any of the other possible (not decided at the time) tattoos because he had no reason to before the hinted at events of this chapter.

Chapter 8.5: Spitfire's Diary (Part 2)

August 1, 2020

Well yesterday was horrible. I shouldn't have said "what could possibly go wrong?" in my previous entry. It turns out that this shadowy government organization kidnapped me and Andrew right out of his house and took us to this place called Area 51. They drew my blood and bone marrow. The worst part was that MRI machine. It was horrible. The sedated me, but that was because I was thrashing about while in it. But that doesn't mean I took their apologies at first, and I still don't. In fact I want to kick the doctor that ordered that in the balls.

It got better, then it got worse, and now I'm at one of those "now what?" moments. Allow me to explain myself. Wow that sounds weird when I know I'm the only one reading this.

Well so earlier today I woke up naked in a hotel bed and I felt extremely sore in the netheregions. After a slightly long winded explanation from Andrew, and a survey of the room showed that we indeed had sex multiple times. I don't really know what to think right now. I don't know if I should be happy that we did it or if I should be scared that we are MARRIED.

Yeah you read that right: married. So apparently we got so smashed last night we not only spilled on the beans that we like each other but we went to a chapel and got married. And if it's anything like the ones in Los Pegasus it's a completely legal and binding ceremony, regardless to the fact that the person that was doing the ceremony was dressed in a ridiculous and gaudy white jumpsuit.

I don't know what to think. Andrew's been avoiding me all day since we got to the new house provided by our "employer." I think it's part embarrassment and shame while the other part is just pure confusion, which is something that makes complete sense. Even I am confused as fuck. We talked about making it work, but we'll have to see where it leads and how it'll work out.

August 3, 2020

Well Andrew and I went to a movie and dinner tonight. I guess you could call it a first date. I mean we already knew about each other so there wasn't really much to talk about other than current events and stuff that we wanted to do. I've been thinking about those casinos around here and how I should probably get a job here. I mean our employer at 51 pays for the house and utilities, but not food and other personal stuff. I sort of remember how that dealer at the casino we went to dealt the cards, I could do that, right?

Where was I? Oh yeah the movie. It was one of those romantic comedy movies. You know the kind: guy falls for girl, girl falls for guy, neither has the balls to fess up and say they love the other, events happen that force them to get close, they end up sleeping with each other, they grow apart, guy regrets growing apart, confesses his love, she confesses her love, they kiss, and then the picture fades to black hinting at some "hanky-panky" happening afterwords.

Now that I think about it that sounds a lot like the situation that Andrew and I are going through right now. Damn that's scary.

August 7, 2020

So Andrew and I went on another date today. Another movie, this time it was an action movie about a burned spy trying to clear her name. It was very attention grabbing and all around interesting. Andrew got into it because of the gunplay that was in it. I thought the most interesting thing in the movie was the fact that the heroine managed to get herself out of a tight squeeze by using duct tape. I will never look at that stuff the same way again.

When we got back to the house I kissed him, and this time I wasn't drunk. Not that being drunk is an excuse, but this time it was meaningful instead of an inebriated moment where all inhibitions were set aside. Andrew sort of seemed embarrassed, but that's probably because of our drunken night at the casino hotel is still fresh in his mind, as it is mine.

I'll start looking around the Vegas Strip the afternoon after we get back from base tomorrow. Apparently they need Andrew for some thing and me for more testing. Of course they promised it wouldn't be invasive at all (which I doubt), but I do know they wouldn't cut me up since I am, in their words, "mostly human."

August 14, 2020

Andrew and I just finished a week long marathon of watching the entirety of the Lord of the Rings trilogy as well as The Hobbit prequel. Great movie. It reminds me a bit of the turmoil that the citizens of ancient Equestria faced when Discord was in power. Our world searched for heroes, but none were found until two people of unknown power came forth with six gems and banished Discord to a prison of stone. Those two people were the princesses of course. I see so much of my home in this world.

Andrew keeps thinking that we're being watched by something, but it's always when we're alone together. I don't think he's crazy paranoid, even I feel those eyes on me from time to time.

Well during the movies I snuggled up next to him and he didn't shy away nor did he ask me to move or anything like that. They say there is the "rule of patterns," it states that the first instance of an event is an event, the second is a coincidence, and the third (and subsequent) ones are a pattern. I cuddled up with Andrew during every movie and the same thing happened each time, he didn't care. In fact tonight he placed his arm across my shoulders when we were watching the final installment of The Hobbit. This makes me really happy, I think we both agree, at least non-verbally, that we do like each other.

August 30, 2020

The weirdest thing happened today, my hairbrush just disappeared. Now you may think that this is normal and that I just misplaced that little fucker, but no it just DISAPPEARED right in front of me. As in one moment it was there and the next it wasn't. I come back from work and wouldn't you know it, it reappears right where i left it. Damn I must be going crazy. I'm starting to think it's all the processed food that Andrew eats and buys.

August 31, 2020

Yeah so today was a "holy shit!" day. Why? Well while watching the news one morning both Andrew and I were scared shitless as we heard voices coming from nowhere. In fact one of them sounded like Twilight Sparkle. All she said was that they were still working on a way for me to come home soon. They would try to breach the dimensional wall or something again when they have an idea of how much energy it'll take to bring me back. They tested it on a hairbrush, MY HAIRBRUSH, to have a baseline of how much power it'll take to transport inanimate objects. Thanks a lot guys for making me seem like a fucking nutcase.

She also said that they'd try later with a mouse to see how much power it will take for living things to breach the "wall" as the one named Pinkie Pie called it. On the topic of weirdness Pinkie said before they faded out was that I should beware, and I quote, the next chapter. It absolutely made no sense at all! Why that girl isn't in an insane asylum is beyond me, or at least on meds.

September 5, 2020

Something's not right, I feel like I'm being watched. At work tonight I swore I saw someone watching me from the slot machines. Not the regular kind of watching where a player would watch me to see if I was dealing a hot table or not, but a type of staring that creeps you out. Hopefully it's just someone who's taken a liking to me and not something worse.

September 7, 2020

Well payday was today and I got an earlier shift. A nice bonus since I got to go home early. I booted up Andrew's old game console, what was it? Oh right the Xbox-something or another. I played a game called Halo 7, and it was weird. Well I enjoyed playing it, I just thought that the story was weird. When I asked Andrew about it he said that I'd have to play the previous games to understand it.

I seem to have gotten off topic again. Where was I? Oh right. I think I'm being followed by someone in a car. I could just be getting paranoid, but it's been happening for the last two days that I'm going to tell Andrew when I see him tomorrow at his work.

Author's Note

Part 2 of Spitfire's continuing diary entries.
Yes I bash Elvis impersonators, because nothing beats the original.
I sort of reference my favorite spy show Burn Notice, and one of my favorite quotes from said show: "Guns make you stupid, duct tape makes you smart." A secondary reference to it would be the opening from the show about the "burned spy."
I, like the Spitfire that I've portrayed in these entries, believe in the "rule of threes."
Yes I do make Pinkie break the fourth wall there, I promise not to do it too often, just occasionally when it makes sense or something comedic needs to happen due to the situation that has been set up.
I would like to believe I caught all my errors. If I didn't shout it out in the comments or PM me and I'll take care of it ASAP.

Chapter 9: Foreboding Shadows*

Chapter 9: Foreboding Shadows*

Chapter 9: Foreboding Shadows

Canterlot Throne Room

“So Twilight, what have you found out?” Celestia asked from her throne, her sister beside her. Both were in dresses that highlighted their forms and respective domains of the day.

“Well after many hours of calculations I found that the gem will have to take an approximated five hours of exposure to the Elements before we can attempt to contact Spitfire audibly. And even then it’s not guaranteed. Then will be the transport test, I’m planning on sending an object through and taking an inanimate one from their side,” Twilight replied handing over sheets upon sheets of calculations to the diarchs. “If these numbers stay constant, which is a fifty-fifty shot, it’ll take a full two months of charging the gem stone we already have, and at least a second if the numbers say anything.”

“The gemstone was enchanted by our brand of magic, yes?” Luna asked looking at the blueprints for the final rig.

“Yes, I did the enchanting myself on both the one with a residual charge and the new empty one. We can charge it faster, but that’ll be less sessions with the trade off of more time per session which means exhaustion for the bearers, including me.”

“Do what you need to, but stay safe,” Celestia said.

***

The Shadow of Vegas Bar and Grill, two months later

I had managed to get a bartending job at a bar. I knew my drinks and had even created one just for the owner’s birthday last week. He liked pumpkin pie so I managed to find a way to get pumpkin spice, cinnamon, and vodka to work together with Irish cream. He loved it. Personally I think I got lucky, but hey I got a nice little bump in my paycheck that week as thanks. He’s even thinking of adding it to the drinks list as a house specialty.

Spitfire has been working as a card dealer at one of the blackjack tables at one of the mega casinos. No it wasn’t the one that I won all that cash from. Plus I don’t think I’m welcome there anymore especially after I cleaned them out. She brings back a nice paycheck and I bring quite a bit back from both hourly pay and tips. Thank you shadowy government organization for paying for the house. Where was I? Oh yes.

Well this entire month that Spitfire and I have been… awkward. And not in the normal “just learning how to live with your spouse” type of awkward. Yeah we’ve lived with each other a month before this, but now we’re technically married. The first few days we slept separately, I still slept on a couch, but at least it was a comfy leather one, and she took the bed. While I may be a guy and appreciate the female form like any other hetero guy, I do have my standards though. I won’t force a lady into doing anything she doesn’t want to do.

I’ve purposely gotten up early on days and take a jog or run in the morning and come home and find Spitfire already awake and dressed, leaving the shower vacant for me. Right now I’m just respecting her privacy and space, but if she wants to get more romantic, well we’ll get there when we get there if at all.

We get called in every two weeks to head up to Area 51 to provide some more samples, mostly small blood cultures and in one instance Spitfire actually got the opportunity to fly. She even brought down a cloud to demonstrate the powers that angels have. She sat on it without touching the ground and it acted like a floating ball of fluff but when I or the other scientists present tried it our hands just passed right through the cloud.

While we’ve been on base though I’ve taken up some marksmanship classes with both rifles and pistols to hopefully work on my accuracy. I’ve also been taking training in various fighting styles. In fact the other day one of the other Marines stationed on the base were in a friendly knife fight using shock knives that simulate pain with an electric shock. It hurt like a bitch, but it was worth it. I’ve also been taking a few mixed martial arts classes while the scientists do their scans and stuff on Spitfire. I always end up exhausted, but I feel great at the same time as well. Alive even.

They called us in a week ago to implant a, what was it called? Oh yeah, a sub-dermal transmitter/tracker. Well they don’t want to lose their greatest biological asset and her bodyguard. It also makes sense because of all the espionage going on. You never know who is working for whom. They said it was pretty spotty underground and inside buildings with tons of steel in it, but they said they were working on it or something.

Right now I’m working the bar on a semi-slow night. It’s one of those nights where it has its bouts of large amounts of traffic and then an hour or two of almost absolute silence. It’s weird if you ask me. My boss is a good money manager and hired a good sales rep that has our bar advertised but nights like this are to be expected when you have mega casinos that have several different clubs and bars inside them that each offer something different in them.

As I clean the bar itself, sort of like you’d see in old westerns, I start thinking about where Spitfire and I are at. As far as my coworkers are concerned I’m “happily” married to a beautiful young woman with fiery red hair. As for us though we’ve only gone to a dinner and a movie a few times during the first two weeks. We established that kissing was allowed, aka first base, which we would have to do anyway to keep up appearances until we decided otherwise.

By the third week, last week, we mutually decided that we could touch each other intimately. Intimate as in extended bodily contact being within either of our personal spaces, not sex; get your mind out of the gutter. Included were hugs, cuddling, and hand holding. Well unless we said otherwise of course, at least I’m trying to be the gentleman here.

A few more bodies come into the bar and walk right up to my station. “What can I getcha?” I ask.

“Bud lite,” a scrawny guy no older than twenty-five said.

“Margarita,” said a slightly older guy of maybe thirty.

“ID’s,” I reply pointing to our ‘We ID’ sign in plain sight. I start grabbing a pint glass and the bar supplies to make the margarita as they pull out their wallets. Seeing that they met the legal age of drinking, twenty-one, I poured the beer and handed it to the guy and started on the margarita.

“So did you hear about the Slasher? Apparently he took another victim last week,” the younger one said.

“Yeah, that has to be what? Twelve now?” the older one replied.

“This is a fucked up world we live in, Chuck,” the young guy stated taking a swig.

“You know it Cole,” the older man, now Chuck said. I handed him his drink and he drank it in no time flat.

I continue my bartending, knocking out a few shots that a mixed group of men and women ordered. Jaeger bombs. I swear if they puke here I’m slashing their tires. Hey if they’re too drunk to keep their stomachs under control they have no business on the roads. Or I could just remove one of their battery leads, probably the latter. Plus it’s bonus entertainment watching drunks trying to troubleshoot machines. YouTube gold.

“Hey Andy,” Spitfire said taking her usual seat at the bar.

I walked over to her and leaning over the bar I gave her a quick kiss, “Hey Sam, how was your day?” Spitfire had gotten used to her new alias quickly, then again I’m only calling her ‘Sam’ when we’re in public. She had started calling me ‘Andy’ as a pet name in the last two weeks or so as I had been using ‘Spits’ or ‘Sam’.

“Fine.”

“The usual?”

“Yeah.” I pulled out a pint glass and filled it with ice. Then I poured Smirnoff vanilla vodka, chocolate liquor, and some Guinness draught in and topped it with some heavy whipping cream.

“Here you go Sam, one Guinness Swirl,” I say handing the glass over.

“How did you ever think of this?” she asked taking a drink.

“TV remember?” I say with a smirk. The bar was still slow so I washed out some of the used mixing materials so they would be ready when needed. I looked at Spitfire and she looked troubled. “You ok?” I ask.

“I’m fine,” she replied averting her eyes as she took another drink.

“Sam, you know I can tell when you’re lying,” I stated. She looked defeated, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, it feels like I’m being followed and watched or something.”

“When did it start?” I say leaning on the bar getting closer while scanning the room. No one stood out.

“About a week ago. I started feeling an unnatural staring while on shift. Then I started to think that someone was following me home the other day but they turned before I reached our street.”

“What about today?”

“I didn’t’ see anyone, but I could feel their gaze.”

“Do you have your gun?”

“No, I left it at home since they don’t allow it in the casino.”

I sighed and I reached to my belt and pulled my firearm out and checked it beneath the counter. I pulled the slide slowly so the sound would be drowned out by the music playing. I saw that a nine-mil round was chambered. I let the slide close slowly and put the safety on.

“Here, take my Sig,” I put my gun on the bar and Spitfire took it and placed it in her coat pocket. “When you get home lock the doors.”

“Thanks, I will,” she replied slightly relieved.

“Remember, if there is someone going after you head towards a large populated place. If you can’t be ready to shoot to kill, got it?” She nodded. “Good. Now don’t worry, it’ll be ok,” I say giving her a kiss on her forehead.

***

Briggs residence

He was lying in wait. It wasn’t that hard to find the spare key in the fake rock. ‘They should really think about new ways to hide keys nowadays,’ he thought.

The woman had caused him a heap load of trouble, more than the previous woman he was with. Everyone except for her was easily seduced into a one night stand that got a… little more interesting for both of them. She had hurt him where it counted and he was definitely going to return the favor.

***

As Spitfire parked in the driveway something felt off but she couldn’t figure out why. The house was dark, like she left it when she left for work. But Andrew usually left one of the lights on to scare away burglars just in case.

As she opened the front door she reached inside her front pocket and brought out Andrew’s Sig Sauer P226. She held her finger outside the trigger guard as she brought it up to her dominant eye. She walked slowly inside sweeping from left to right as she progressed further inside the house. She slowed her own breathing and listened but only heard her own breathing. She slowly lowered the gun only to have the sharp pain of a needle be stabbed into her neck. Instinctively her finger pulled the trigger letting off three rounds. Then she faded into oblivion, dropping the gun in the process.

***

“Damn it,” the man said ripping the needle out of the redheaded woman. He hadn’t expected her to have a gun, or for her to fire it. ‘Definitely a pain in the ass,’ he thought as he dragged the unconscious body out of the door, but before he did he left a little “gift” for the police and the family of the woman.

***

Shadow of Vegas

It’s only been thirty minutes since Spitfire left and a few minutes after she did the traffic started flowing right in. And with traffic comes bar-hoppers, and with bar-hoppers comes drunken idiots, and with drunken idiots come idiots who think it’s a good idea who think it’s a good idea to get into a fight with the bartender over their bill.

“Come on man, let me start a tab,” the drunkard said.

“We don’t do tabs here,” I reply staring him down, and him trying to stare me down back.

“But what about that redheaded cutie? You let her have a tab,” he countered.

“No, that was my wife and she’s allowed to because I pay that tab before I leave from my shift.”

He swung a punch at me, drunkenly of course. I slapped his arm away and countered with a punch to the sternum. That knocked his breath out and left him flat on the floor. I grabbed a rope from underneath the counter and placed the drunk’s hands behind his back and tied them. I pulled out my phone and called the cops.

“Las Vegas police,” the semi-pleasant sounding dispatcher said.

“Yes can you send an officer to The Shadow of Vegas Bar and Grill? I have a drunk and disorderly person under citizen’s arrest,” I stated.

“We have alerted the closest officer, he will be there shortly.”

I hung up and of course that was when the guy decided to start pleading his case for me to let him go. To each one I said a variant of “no.” This went on for a good twenty minutes before the cop showed up. The African-American officer walked into the bar.

“My name is Kurt Davis and I’m here for a citizen’s arrest,” he said in a deep baritone voice.

“Over here officer,” I said flagging him down. When he came over and saw the man he gave me a look, “Drunkie here didn’t like it when I said he couldn’t keep a tab. He threw a punch and I threw one back and then restrained him. I called immediately afterwords.”

“Do you wish to press charges?” he asked.

“No harm no fowl, but I think my boss wants him out of here though. The drunk tank should be enough for this guy.”

‘We have a 10-71, shots fired at the following location,’ the dispatcher then said my address. My face went absolutely pale and the officer noticed.

“Sir, are you all right?” he asked.

“That’s my address. FUCK!”

“Sir, what’s wrong?” he said trying to calm me. Which didn’t work at all.

“My wife, she said someone was following her for the last week. She stopped in under an hour ago and I gave her my gun just in case when she told me,” I said as I walked out the door and got onto my Harley.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to let us take care of this he said putting a hand to where his Taser was.”

I can’t believe this is the time to use this. I pull out my wallet and as I open it I pull the hidden sub-wallet that holds my Department of Defense badge, “My name is Lieutenant Andrew Briggs of the United States Air Force, and my wife is a high value person working with us on a project of a classified nature,” I reply starting the bike and pulling my Glock 17 out of the side bag and holstering it. “Tell whoever is responding that someone from the DoD will be on scene,” I finish putting on my Bluetooth headset before putting on my visored helmet.

I peeled out leaving the officer in my dust. I sped through many red lights, which lead many drivers to flip me off and yell profanities, but I don’t care. As I pull up I see my front door wide open and a pair of tire burns on the street. My Evo was in the driveway, which told me that Spitfire had come home. I unholstered my gun and went inside. I brought my gun up so that I could see down the sights. As I did, I did a tactical clearing of each room. As I approached my living room I saw three brass casings and my Sig. I left it were it was and looked around with my pistol still out.

I found a syringe on the ground. I tapped it with the end of my gun to see if there was anything still in it. None, the plunger was all the way down. I looked from where my gun was and saw three bullet holes in the wall. One bright note was that Spitfire’s aim was improving since all three rounds were in a tight grouping. Whoever grabbed her was lucky that she didn’t hit them. They wouldn’t be so lucky with me when I find them. I look at the scene more and see an ajar closet door.

“So whoever did this came from the closet after she passed he jumped her, injecting her with whatever was in that syringe,” I mutter just above a whisper.

I tap my headset, “Call the boss.” As my phone headset rang I looked down near the TV, there was a box tied with a red ribbon. I heard of this before, it was the MO of the Vegas Strip Slasher. “Oh shit,” I said not knowing that the colonel had already picked up.

“Lt. Briggs, what’s going on?” he said with a tired disposition.

“It’s Spitfire, sir. She’s been nabbed by the Slasher not too-”

“LVPD put your hands up!” a female voice said. I turned around and there enough there was two officers. The female was of Latina appearance and the other, who I assume is her partner, a male of Caucasian appearance. I raise my hands slowly and above my head I eject the magazine and pull the slide back, ejecting the chambered round before dropping my Glock on the ground.

“I’m going to have to call you back, colonel,” I say craning my neck so that my ear touches my shoulder and the button on my headset, which cut the call. The male officer walked over to the box and opened it.

“SWEET MOTHER OF GOD!” I heard him yell. He must have found the ear, confirming my original suspicions.

***

I spent the next fifteen minutes in cuffs on my couch while they waited for those CSI guys to show up and start processing the scene. I don’t know how the colonel pulled strings, no wait I know how, because he works for people above these local LEOs. Because they uncuffed me as soon as they got off the phone with whoever was their boss.

“Our apologies Lieutenant,” the male officer said.

“No worries, you were just doing your job. Can I get my firearm back?” I asked in response. The female officer reluctantly gave it back. I placed it back in its holster.

“So Lt. Briggs this is your house?”

“Yes.”

“When did you get here?”

“About five minutes before you came in almost shooting me. I came here after hearing my address mentioned on an officer’s radio when he was arresting a drunk at a bar that I work at. I came straight here seeing if my wife was ok, but as you can see she’s not here and the Slasher’s calling card was over there.”

“What’s the name of your wife?” the female officer asked.

“Samantha Briggs,” I answer.

“What does she do for a living?”

“That’s classified. What I can tell you she’s private civilian contractor with a side-job as a dealer at a casino.”

“’Classified’ as in you don’t want to tell us or ‘classified’ as in-?”

“It’s above your pay grade,” came a deep voice behind us.

I turned around nodded my head, “Colonel.”

“What happened?” he asked.

“From what I’ve gathered in five minutes is that Sam came in and was holding one of my spare guns because she said she was being followed,” I said walking back to the front door demonstrating using my fingers as a fake gun. “She walked in and swept the room before stopping here convinced that she was ok. Can you stand over here please?” I ask the female officer. She nods and comes over and takes my place where I was standing. “Now the assailant, the Slasher, I assume comes out from the closet and stuck her with whatever was in the syringe there,” I say ‘creeping’ up behind the officer and putting my fist on her throat mimicking injecting something. “She let off three rounds into the wall there and was dragged away,” I finish my guess on what happened.

“That’s extremely odd though, he’s never left any evidence of the abduction before,” a voice said from behind us.

“And you are?” the Hernandez says.

“Detective Joshua Reynolds,” he replies.

“Why would you say that though,” I ask.

“His MO has always been to grab his victims silently and leave only the ear of his previous victim and no other evidence for us to track him with,” he says pulling out a glove and puts it on. He lifts up the syringe, “This is the first time he’s been spooked like this to leave such an important piece of evidence behind.”

“Sir, what about her sub-dermal tracker?” I asked.

“It goes cold downtown, the analysts think he went underground or a place with a lot of steel and concrete,” Hernandez replied.

“Then there’s still a chance to save her, I just hope she can hold on until we find her.”

***

???

Spitfire felt as though her head were made of lead, it was difficult to move. As she came back completely her senses started booting up one after the other. She couldn’t see anything, but felt something over her eyes. She also felt duct tape over her mouth, muffling her every attempted word. She also felt that her arms and legs were restrained as she tried to move them.

“Ah so the lady awakens,” a male voice said. “Oh how I’ve waited for this moment for well over two months.” She recognized this voice, she heard it once before. “You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find one person in this massive metropolis. Oh, but I think you want to see me now, yes?”

He ripped off the blindfold and before Spitfire stood a white, scrawny male of about 5’11” with a demented smile on his face. She recognized him as the pig from the bar she kicked in the nads “Oh, I see you remember me, how nice,” he said. Then he grabbed her chin with his hand and forced her to look at him, “My dear you’ve caused me trouble and pain, and we’re going to have lots of fun together,” he started giggling like a madman.

*Fade out with an eerie song playing*

Author's Note

Want to make the mixed drink yourself? Watch here to find out how.
I’m pretty sure that the code for shots fired is different for each department, I just grabbed the one online that looked the most legit. LEOs stands for law enforcement officers. Yay slang.
Two immediate notes about the next chapter: first is that it will be split up into two parts covering two perspectives. Second the next chapter will be classified as dark and will have gore in it. This is a forewarning to prepare yourselves for it.
I would like to believe I caught all my errors, but if I didn't then call me out on it in a PM or in the comments below.

Patch Notes

(5/14/14)
P226: My expertise in firearms only goes as far as ones I've handled at a firing range, which at this point is the Glock, Walther, and Springfield Arms. Regardless to say the erred text has been change to fit the firearm.
The salute: Changed for a situation fitting a off-duty situation.

Chapter 10 (Part 1): Nightmare

A/N: Gore and Dark warning, you have been warned. This “part” of the chapter is taken from Spitfire’s perspective. So until the chapter ends “I” is Spitfire.

Chapter 10: Nightmare (Spitfire)

???

The words “lots of fun together” is something that echoed in the room, and frankly I don’t like it at all. This scrawny little bastard killed dozens of other women. I look over to my right and see a table full of surgical instruments and other items that could be classified as “torture” devices, because half of the items look like normal household items.

I looked over to the Slasher to see him put on a pair of those yellow rubber kitchen gloves and in his hand was a scalpel and a salt shaker. My eyes widened at the realization of what he was going to do. He was going to cut parts of my body open and salt the wounds. I knew of this horrible act because of a Griffin traditional punishment that required the arm of the transgressor to be cut open in a non-vital area, or vital if the case was severe, and it was salted. I saw a film demonstration of it once, it was horrible; and now it was going to be performed on me.

He cut a line on the top-side of my arm. I grimaced in pain and a muffled yelp escaped my mouth. “Don’t worry my dear, I don’t want you dead. Not yet that is,” he said with a demented smile. Then he poured the salt in the wound. It burned like all Tartarus below. Muffled screams escaped my lips as the tape kept them from escaping. Finally the pain died down to a dull throbbing, but he cut another line and repeated the same pattern.

A cut would be made away from a vein or artery, he would salt it, I would scream, the pain would die down, and then he’d start again somewhere else. He started getting tired of cutting one by one, so he started cutting two areas at a time. The pain got worse each time, the burning more intense each time. My jaw clenches and I try not to give him anything, but the pain is too much and I start to cry out, tears in my eyes.

Unfortunately he saw it, “Oh don’t cry my dear, the fun is just beginning.” Apparently this was going to get much worse. He walked away and when he was out of sight I tried to call for help and struggled against the restraints, but it is hopeless. The restraints dig into my skin and trying to pull at them only aggravates the salted cuts on my arms, and anything I try to say gets muffled by the tape.

He came back and I froze, he was holding a baseball bat in his hands. “Getting a little feisty are we? Well I think I have a solution for that,” he said with a twisted smile. My pupils shrunk at what he just stated because I knew what he was going to do next. He walked right over and raised the bat in a two handed grip and swung at my right leg. I cried out in pain as the wooden bat made contact with the bone.

Fun fact by the way about angel bones, while they are lightweight, they are also extremely durable. Meaning it’ll take several hits to get through. This is not going to be fun.

He inspected my leg, but it didn’t break. He looks really frustrated. He hit it again. I cried out in pain again, this time a tear streaming out of my eye. He looked again and got really agitated. “Why,” *hit* “won’t,” *hit* “you,” *hit* “break!?!” *crack*.

This pain was like nothing like I had experienced before. Eyes wide I cried out in pain and bucked up against the restraints. I felt even more pain as I came back down and I felt the bones grind against each other. “There we go,” the Slasher said with a glimmer in his eye. “Now how about we continue this fun.” I started shaking my head from left to right in an attempt to deny him his sick pleasure. “Was that a yes? I think it was.” He crossed over to the other side and started beating my right leg with the bat.

I felt the bone break again, the dull throbbing pain of the broken left leg was replaced by the sharp pain of breaking bone in the right leg. It is both intense and terrible. I cried out again, only to have it muffled by the tape. My back arched away from the restraints which forced both broken legs to grind each other causing bolts of agonizing pain to shoot up my spine causing me to black out.

As I regained consciousness I felt a dull throbbing in my legs only to see they were bent at an unnatural angle, one bone is sticking out through my skin as well. It's sickening. My arms which are tied down at my sides, like they were before. They are covered in cuts and blood, lots of blood. “Look who decided to come back,” the voice of the Slasher said. He came into view with a propane torch in his hand. Again I knew what it was because Andrew kept one in the garage for repairs.

My pupils dilated to pinpricks as I had an idea about what he’d do next. He ripped my blouse apart, exposing the soft skin of my upper body. He ignited the torch and brought the flame close to my skin.

“Mmphf,” was all I could get out as I can feel the heat on my skin. He brought the flame close to my navel. “Mmphf!” I try to shout out.

“Oh, so it seems like we have a winner,” he said with his maniacal smile.

He plunged the flame down so it touched the skin directly. “MMMPHF!!!” I tried to cry out as tears escaped my eyes. I could feel the flesh bubble and melt until it ended up being a charred mess. He slowly moved up the flame towards my chest. My muffled screams being more than audible now, and more tears from the agony streamed down my face. The pain was too much. Just everything. The salted cuts, the two broken legs, now the third degree burns and blood loss? It was too much and I fell into the sweet embrace unconsciousness, perhaps even death from the shock itself.

I feel like I’m floating now, like on one of the clouds of Cloudsdale fresh from the weather factories. There’s nothing but blackness around me, but my eyelids feel heavy. If this is the afterlife on Andrew’s world, I think I can be ok with this. Being at peace, feeling no pain, being out of the hands of a psychopathic madman.

“Have you ever had regrets?” a disembodied female voice said.

“A few,” I reply calmly.

“Would you wish to go back and not regret them, given the chance?”

“I would think I would like to.” And with that reply I start to hear the ticking of a single pocket watch. “What’s that?”

“The time has not yet come for the debt to be repaid.”

“What?” I ask.

The voice seemed frustrated, “It is not your time to go into Death’s embrace.”

The sensation of weightlessness left me, but the sensation of floating remained. My eyes slowly opened to see Andrew princess carrying me quickly through a corridor. From what my slightly opened eyes could see he was wearing full combat armor.

“Uhhh,” I groan.

Andrew’s head immediately shoots down to look at me, “Spits, stay with me alright. You’ll be ok.”

“Why can’t I feel anything?” I weakly asked.

“I had you shot up with enough morphine to knock out a rhino.”

“Ok,” I reply. My eyes starting to close again, “I’m just… going… to rest my… eyes,” I finish as my eyes close. A few seconds must have passed because I heard doors being crashed through and the engines of a helicopter. As my consciousness faded again I heard Andrew yell something over the roar of the engines.

‘Beep’

‘Beep’

‘Beep’

As my mind slowly came back from the inky blackness that was the first thing I heard. I let out a small groan as I felt an extremely dull pain in my legs, arms, and torso. I tried to sit up but was held down.

“Woah, easy there,” Andrew’s voice said. My vision came into focus and I saw his face. His eyes were bloodshot red and had bags under his eyes. “You got out of surgery a few hours ago, it’s time to rest.”

“What happened?” I croaked out.

“They had to reset your bones so that they heal correctly. That and they had to put a skin graft on your stomach to take care of the burn,” he replied. I looked down and saw that both of my legs and saw there were both in casts. My chest had gauze wrapped around it as I looked down the medical gown. My arms were also wrapped up past the elbow all the way down to me fingertips. “Yes they stitched up your arms too.”

“How did you find me?” I asked settling down into the bed.

“Well that’s an interesting story in and of itself. About an hour after you got nabbed-”

Author's Note

I took a line straight out of Linkin Park’s track “Victimized,” or well I paraphrased it, or something like that.
And with that this completes this shift in perspectives. As of next chapter Andrew resumes his mantle as the story teller/narrator.
I do realize that this is one of my shorter chapters and I am well aware of it. For me it was hard to write that, it was hard to even imagine the kind of pain that I tried to describe. The other reason for the shortness is that part 2 of this chapter will be longer.
I would like to think that I caught all my errors. Wanna prove me wrong? PM me or comment it.
The second part will be published later today (12/21).

Chapter 10 (Part 2): The Hunt*

Chapter 10 (Part 2): The Hunt*

A/N: As stated in part one of the chapter the perspective of the storyteller swaps back to Andrew. I might as well have that cleared up right away to avoid confusion.

Chapter 10: The Hunt (Andrew)

Briggs Residence

“Yes,” the detective said, “there is a chance she can be recovered alive.”

“Ok so what’s his MO when he gets a new victim?” Hernandez asks.

“Well depending if they’re a willing victim or not it varies. However cutting, beating, and burning the body is pretty common on all the willing victims, but there was one where he got aggressive, or at least that’s what the coroner told us.”

“What do you mean ‘aggressive’?” I asked looking very concerned.

“He when they came willingly he would cut them and make them bleed. Instead he would pour salt into the wounds to maximize the amount of pain. When he would beat them he would use gloved fists or brass knuckles, but when they would refuse a proposal from him he would beat them savagely. Usually with what our investigators have said based on perimortum bruising, is a baseball bat. Most likely spruce. As for the burning, our chemical analyzers show that there was an accelerant: propane.”

“Anything else we should know?” Hernandez asked.

“Yes, he abducts them and then waits until the sedative he uses wears off. He uses a fast acting sedative that takes between two to three hours to wear off before he starts. So-”

“So that means we have that long before she’s in trouble,” I finish quickly.

***

Las Vegas Crime Lab, 1 hour later

I had been sitting around for the last hour twiddling my thumbs waiting for any results from any evidence collected. I have been checking my phone every five minutes just seeing if I’ve missed a call at all. The drive didn’t take that long, especially when you’re in a police vehicle with the sirens on. Out of sheer boredom, and an attempt to at least keep my mind occupied, I took apart and reassembled my sidearm at least ten times. The officers and lab techs were giving me odd looks as I did so. The detective said to ignore what I was doing and to let me be, but that didn’t diminish the amount of staring that was sent my way.

“Lieutenant?” a woman said and my eyes shot up to her. “The detective wants to have a word with you.” I got up and followed her past windowed work cells that all had computer monitors. She led me into one of these work cells, this one with a big screen.

“Mr. Briggs,” a lab tech said, “thanks for waiting. We figured out what vehicle made those tire tracks on the street.” She pressed a few keys on her keyboard, “They belong to a specific type of van used in the plumbing business.”

“What kind?” Detective Reynolds said coming up behind me. Damn that guy can sneak around.

“A Dodge Ram Tradesman. However we don’t know the model year or color.”

“Actually I might be able to help with that,” I cut in while taking out my phone. The lab tech tried to speak up, but I held up a finger while I dialed a number. “Colonel? Do you have the GPS tracking data for Spi- I mean Sam?"

“Put me on speaker,” Hernandez said.

“Sir you are on speakerphone.”

“Good. Detective I’m sending your people some sensitive tracking data,” the data appeared on the monitor in front of us.

“How did-?” Reynolds was befuddled.

“Don’t ask, we have our ways. Cross reference the path that the tracker took with traffic cam footage. Lieutenant take me off speaker.”

“Secure,” I said after pressing the speaker icon.

“We have a Predator drone up in the air and on station and we… borrowed a CIA satellite to scan for that implant. If we find it first before the local LEOs do, you’ll be the first to know,” Hernandez finished before he hung up.

“Detective?” a younger male voice said from the door. “We found a fingerprint and some skin cells.”

“And this is surprising how?” I counter. “The gun it was fired from belongs to me. I placed the rounds in the magazine so they’re most likely mine.”

“Who are you?” he asked.

“The husband,” I reply flatly.

“Then why is he here? Isn’t it a conflict of interest?” he asked the detective.

“National security overrides that protocol,” I say flatly. “And before you ask, it’s classified.”

“Anyway… the prints don’t belong to anyone in any databases,” he says to the detective. I raise a hand, “And before you add something about military databases, yes I turned that filter on, and no matches there either.”

“What about the DNA?” Reynolds asked.

“Well we’re running a full analysis on it, it should be done in an hour or two due to the fact that it’s probably the Slasher’s.”

“Send a copy to this email,” I say grabbing a pen and paper. “In the subject line write ‘Priority alpha, Sam Briggs’ and it’ll get to the right people.”

He took it and saw that the ending was ‘.gov.’ “And by ‘right people’ you mean-?” he asks and I give him a stern look, “Right, classified.”

“Set up a workstation, I’ll help sift through the cam and GPS data,” I say and they give me the ‘how dare you do that in our domain’ look. “As the Navy says, ‘all hands on deck.’”

***

Canterlot Castle, Dimensional Observation Room

Twilight was just about to use the mirror, right as a certain chaos loving being decided to interrupt her.

“Twilight my dear, I heard about the little experiment that you’re doing for good ol’ Celly,” Discord said. “I want to see it.” He had a big smile on his face.

“Why should I?” Twilight countered. “You want to mess with that other place, don’t you?”

“Why Twilight I am hurt by that accusation,” the lord of chaos said feigning being stabbed in the heart. Twilight had to admit, Discord could act.

‘I wish he would channel that acting towards something more creative,’ Twilight thought.

“I did once about 1005 years ago, but Celly and Luna’s subjects didn’t get it,” he replied.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?” Discord said sitting on one of his signature pink clouds holding a glass of chocolate milk.

“Wha-? Never mind. On the topic of you, why are you like that?” Twilight said gesturing with both hands up and down.

“Like what?” he countered.

“Like an earthborn, why aren’t you in your natural form?”

“What? An ancient lord of chaos can’t take a form that’s comfortable?” Twilight glared at him, “Oh all right, since you INSISTED that I do so,” he snapped his fingers and morphed back into his mismatched body parts body. “Happy?”

“Very,” she replied as her marking started to glow lavender as she started up the spell. She sensed Discord looming over her shoulder, “Fine. If you want to watch there’s going to be some rules. Questions are fine, so go ahead and ask. No messing around with the other world at all, not even to give them chocolate rain. And no getting any ideas while I’m doing this.”

“Like what?” he said with a smile. “I am reformed after all.”

“You know what I mean, buddy.”

“But am I your guy, friend?”

“What?” Twilight said with a confused look. She then shook her head, “Do you know what, never mind.” She put more power into her spell. Now that she had more power now thanks to her and her friends charging gem batteries, all she had to do now was light the ‘spark’ and the batteries took care of the rest.

As the picture came into focus she saw Andrew looking at what she had heard described as a ‘monitor.’ On one was a map and on the other was an intersection with cars passing through. He paused the footage from time to time, as if he were looking for something very specific. The only reason it focused on Andrew right away was because she had been watching him the previous time, and his aura was what was still locked into the spell.

“Come on you fucking bastard, where are you?” he asked the inanimate object.

“He seems angry,” Twilight commented. “I wonder why?”

‘This just in: another victim has been taken by the Vegas Strip Slasher. The victim is a Samantha Briggs. The police are looking for her as we speak.’ Discord then put away the small radio.

“Who’s Samantha?” Twilight asked out loud. “I know that Briggs is Andrew’s last name, but he never mentioned a sister.”

“That, my dear, would be the alias created for Spitfire,” Discord replied.

Twilight’s eyes widened in horror. A serial killer had the person she was trying to get home. Her arm marking glowed again as she changed the spell’s aura search for Spitfire’s. As it came into focus she saw the angel, but it was not a good sight.

Spitfire’s arms were bloody and covered with cuts. Her legs broken, one tibia had broken through the skin making it a compound fracture. Her lower torso covered in third degree burns.

“What kind of monster could do such a thing?” Twilight threw the question in the air, which only found the ears of Discord.

“A very sick being, Twilight,” he replied. “One with deep emotional trauma and mental issues.” Twilight gave him the ‘like you’ look. “Twilight, even a being as chaotic as I would not wish such a… horror on another. I like pranks and messing with other people and their perceptions of reality, never once have I killed or harmed someone like that.”

Twilight agreed. Discord never killed anyone directly. They died from natural causes, or in the case of the augmented realities that Discord caused in his reign of chaos a thousand years ago, natural causes within unnatural circumstances. According to records there was one man who died from anaphylactic shock after falling into mud made out of peanut butter. According to what the doctors wrote, it wasn't pretty.

“I think we should do something,” Twilight said.

“Hmm… How about taking the 'camera' outside and seeing where she’s being held captive?” Discord suggested.

“That’s… a great idea,” Twilight responded with a shocked expression.

“Just because I am chaotic doesn’t mean I’m evil,” he commented.

Twilight rotated her “camera” until she saw a door. She then had the spell go towards it. The doors lead to a larger hallway, which lead to a maze of corridors. She picked one and followed along it. Finally she reached a set of double doors and fazed through them. The darkness of night being brightened by the moon and the city lights greeted her and Discord. Twilight then moved her “camera” so that it would look down from the sky.

“And now for the finishing touch,” Discord said snapping his fingers. One of his classic pink cotton candy clouds appeared over the old abandoned building. “Now I think it’s about time we told our good pal Andrew where he can find Spitfire.”

***

Crime Lab

I continue to look at footage. I saw a few possible candidates, but none of them continued on with the tracking data that was sent over. Apparently this was the night that everyone that owned a Tradesman decided to all go out on the street at the same time. I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration and follow it up by rubbing my temples.

“Long night?” said a male voice from behind. It was the fingerprint guy from before.

“You have no idea,” I reply with my eyes closed, still rubbing my temples.

“So, what’s your story?” he asked placing two cups of coffee on the desk. “We don’t usually let people who have ties to a kidnapping victim in the labs, but now all of a sudden you are?” I remained silent. “Come on man, you’ve got to give me something here.”

I sat there for a good five minutes, there was no way that he’d leave me alone until I told him so… “I was assigned to protect her, and I failed,” I said feeling defeated.

“So is being married a cover or-?”

“No, we’re actually married. A stupid Elvis impersonator wedding, but a wedding none-the-less.” I paused for a moment before chuckling, “You know what? My parents didn’t even know I got married. They’ve been pestering me for the last year or so to find a nice girl and settle down. The time I finally do, she gets abducted. If shit hits the fan here it’s not going to be a pleasant conversation with my parents, that’s for sure,” I sigh leaning back in the swivel chair, my eyes staring at the ceiling.

“How’d you two meet?”

“Believe it or not she broke into my house and I almost shot her,” I smiled as I remembered that moment. When I look back at it, it was sort of funny. As I finished reminiscing my phone started to ring. I looked at the caller id and saw it said ‘The Lord of Chaos’ with no number underneath that. I pressed answer, “Uhh… hello?”

***

“Yes, Mr. Briggs? My name is Dennis Chord,” Discord said into a banana, “and I would like to assist you in your dilemma.”

“Ok?”

“Head towards the smoke stacks, the pink cloud bearing brown rain will mark your destination,” he finished before making the banana disappear, effectively hanging up. Twilight glared at him. “What?”

“Why didn’t you help him?” Twilight said with clenched fists.

“Oh but my dear, I did.” Twilight had a befuddled look, “Twilight, is it better for one to be given the answer to a problem, or be given a push,” he said pushing her then reappeared behind her catching her before she could fall, “in the right direction?”

Twilight pondered his words as he walked out of the room, “It seems as though my work here is done,” he said as the door closed and Twilight returned her attention to the mirror.

***

That was by far the weirdest phone call that I have ever received. I felt eyes on me again, like I did a little while ago and it wasn’t from the lab tech next to me. Twilight and her friends must be watching again. Which makes me wonder why they aren’t helping me- unless.

“No. It couldn’t be,” I say bringing up my recent call log and look at the number that the ‘Dennis’ guy called from. It said ‘π.’ Not even the number itself, just the symbol. I showed the screen to the lab tech, “Is this even possible?”

“Is that pi?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“Just making sure I’m not seeing things,” I reply before quickly dialing Hernandez. “Boss I need you to trust me on something, send the Predator to the industrial district. Focus on abandoned buildings, and trust me on this last one, and look for a pink cloud hovering over it.”

“Lieutenant, I’ll humor you just this once, but if you’re wrong you’re headed straight for the psych ward,” he replied. “Pink cloud? What the hell is he smoking?” he muttered. “One moment, I’m putting you on speaker.”

“Drone is in route, ETA two minutes,” the drone pilot said. I sat on my phone, those two minutes felt like hours. “On station. Uhh… is that a cloud just sitting above those smokestacks?”

“Ignore that, scan for heat signatures,” Hernandez replied.

“Yes, sir. Activating FLIR,” the other side was silent for a minute. Another torturous minute. “No heat spikes detecte- no wait. There are two signatures inside. One is walking around while the other is stationary. Wait, the stationary one seems to be struggling.”

“Is it her?” I ask.

“One second, running height and shoulder width sizes against her file,” a female voice said. “Match found, 89.9% accuracy it is our girl.”

“Now what?” I ask.

“I’m going to call the sheriff and have SWAT move in,” Hernandez replies.

“I want in. If anyone’s going to put a round into that bastard’s skull it’s going to be me.”

***

Factory District

I sat towards the doors of the APC as it drove through the streets towards the marked factory. I checked my guns. I had my Glock 17 from before. I checked the magazine to make sure it was full and then chambered a round before holstering it. I check the other gun in my possession, a P90 submachine gun. The magazine was filled with fifty 5.7mm rounds. I pull bolt back, chambering a round, before placing the safety on. I double checked one final piece of equipment that only one officer gave me a slight look over, an M26 MASS which only had one shell in it. A very special shell.

“What’s the plan?” one officer asked.

“The building has four entrances, one four man squad will hit each one,” the SWAT commander said from the passenger seat up front. “Alpha will be headed by Lt. Briggs here, they’ll handle the north entrance. Bravo will hit the west, Charlie will handle south, and delta will handle the east. Any questions? Good. Let’s get in there and catch this sick bastard.”

I went over my equipment again, just to be sure. I even brought my KBAR knife with me, just in case because you never know when you’ll need a knife.

“Why are you here with us?” an officer said next to me.

“National security,” I replied flatly as I sheathed the knife on my body armor. The transport stopped and the doors were opened. I put on my helmet as I stepped out. Everyone had balaclavas, but I didn’t, I wanted that fuck to have the image of my face be the last thing he sees. I fix my headset to my ear and turn it on. “Colonel, can you hear me?” I say fiddling with it a little.

“Five by five, Lieutenant,” he replied.

“Any updates on our girl?” I ask walking quickly towards my position.

“Sensors say that she’s stopped moving, but she’s still alive inside. My best guess is that she’s out cold. Probably for the best, all things considering.”

I reach my breaching position, “Copy that, we’re moving in.”

I tap the officer’s soldier, letting him know I was ready. He signaled another officer who put a breaching charge on the door. “Alpha team is ready,” I say into my radio. Then the other three teams chimed in.

“Bravo ready.”

“Charlie’s good to go.”

“Delta’s good.”

“Alright good, all teams enter on my mark. Three… two… one… mark.”

***

Observation Room

Twilight stared at the image of the fifteen armed policemen and Andrew prepared to enter the building that Discord had marked less than an hour earlier. One thing that she noticed was that she noticed about Andrew is that he had a look in his eyes that was separate from the others present. While the others showed a focus on the task at hand, his showed rage. Pure unbridled rage.

“Twilight,” she turned around to see Celestia and Luna coming through the doors. “Discord told us what he saw. Will they be able to save Spitfire?”

“Sister,” Luna spoke up. “It looks like they’re about to.” All three turned their attention to the mirror and watched as the scene played out.

***

A/N: In this section we see the reappearance of comments made by the people present on the other side of the mirror. They will appear ‘as so.’ Appropriate music to listen to during this section: YouTube link. Repeat if it ends before you finish reading.

“Mark,” was said over the radio and at all four points an explosive detonated and each team poured in. I flicked off the safety on my P90 and turned on the green laser sight/flashlight combo. I swept my weapon into the first room and saw nothing there.

“Clear,” I said into the radio. I heard other members say “clear” as well as they too cleared their rooms. We moved to the first open area, we kept our weapons trained on doors and kept watchful eyes out for sudden movements.

‘They move like a well-oiled machine,’ Celestia commented. ‘Perhaps our guards could learn a thing or two from these- what were they called again?’

‘I think Andrew called them SWAT,’ Twilight replied.

We went up some stairs and with each stair our boots silently stepped with each footfall. I heard footsteps going away from us and I held up my fist telling the others to stop. I listened to see what their speed was. They were slow, not walking slow to not be detected, but just walking casually. “Let’s go,” I said to my team.

We came to a set of double doors leading to the facility’s former cafeteria. I peeked in the window only to see a single man smoking a cigarette looking over the half-naked body of Spitfire. My blood started to boil.

‘Sister, what’s wrong with him?’ Luna asked.

‘Anger, pure anger,’ Celestia replied.

“We have him, attempting capture,” I said into the radio. “Flash and clear,” I said to the team. One officer reached into a pocket and brought out a flashbang grenade and undid the Velcro keeping the detonator lever in place. He pulled the pin as another officer opened the door and then threw the grenade in. We covered our ears as we waited the three seconds for the explosion.

‘Why are they-?’ Twilight started.

*Boom*

‘Oww,’ Luna said trying to clear the ringing from her ears as one would get water out of them.

‘WHAT!?!’ Twilight asked, ears ringing.

Everyone brought up their guns before bursting into the room. I immediately went for the only conscious man in the room and gave him a Charlie horse and hit him square in the head with the butt of my P90. As he crumpled to the ground with a new gash on his head I pointed my gun at his torso.

“Stay down, bitch,” I say resisting the urge to empty the magazine into him.

‘What was that?’ Celestia asked.

‘Some sort of non-lethal bomb meant to incapacitate the target,’ Twilight replied.

‘Andrew seems to be having some incredible restraint right now,’ Luna states bringing their attention back to the mirror.

I throw him a zip tie, “Put it on,” I say with as much venom as possible in my voice. He slowly puts his hands together and pulls the tie tight with his teeth. I reach down and pull it tighter, enough to make him wince. I reach down and pull out his wallet and I flick it open to his driver’s license. “Barry Richards, age twenty-nine,” I say throwing the wallet aside.

“What do you want?” he stammered.

“How about the woman you abducted tonight?” I say grabbing him by his collar and throwing him into a metal support beam. He pointed to the table behind me, “Good boy, now stay the fuck there, I’m not done with you.” I turn around and see the rest of the team was clearing the rest of the area.

I walk to the table and see Spitfire restrained by her hands and feet to it. Her shirt was torn open and her body was burned from just below her breasts to her waistline. Her legs were both broken, one was a clean break while the other was a compound fracture. And then I saw her arms, they were cut open and I could see crystalline specks in them. I pull out my knife and cut the restraints. I put a hand to my headset, “I need an immediate MEDEVAC.”

“Copy that, MEDEVAC in route. ETA five minutes,” Hernandez said. Perfect all the time I need.

“Gentlemen, would you mind leaving us for a moment,” I say to my team. They looked like they were able to raise their voices but then they saw the look in my eyes, “Or you’re welcome to stay, your choice.” Two left, leaving one in the room. “Patch her up as best as you can,” I said to him. He only nodded in return. Then I turned my attention to a more, personal matter.

‘Wait, why would he ask them to leave?’ Twilight asked.

‘I think we’re about to find out,’ Celestia answered, worry entering her mind.

I picked up Barry and threw him into the wall. “So you like cutting people, huh?” He nodded in response. “Interesting,” I pull out my knife and cut both his Achilles tendons around the calf region. He fell over and cried out in pain. “So I have to ask you, how do you like it, huh?”

“I don’t!” he screamed back.

“Well then I have to ask myself, why did you do it to them, hmm?” I ask in return. “I could beat you up next, but it seems like I already did that. Next would have to be burning people, why would you even do that? Are you that fucked up in the head?” He didn’t say anything. “Officer, do you see any high proof alcohol anywhere?”

“Yes…” he said sort of distracted to the fact I already gave him a task. I walked over and grabbed a bottle of vodka. I noticed that he had wrapped up the cuts on the arms already and was starting on splints for her legs.

“Grey Goose, nice stuff. Do you drink it after you burn your victims?” He nodded, grunting in pain as he tried to shift. I opened the unused bottle and poured it over him.

‘What is he doing?’ Celestia asked this time.

I pulled out the M26 and chambered the round, “Mr. Richards have you ever heard of the Dragon’s Breath round?” His pupils shrunk in both fear and realization. “So you have,” I say raising the shotgun and its deadly fire round around the groin region. “Enjoy your personal hell,” I say pulling the trigger and the magnesium fueled flame hit the serial killer. He screamed out in pain as he was engulfed in flames fueled additionally due to being soaked in high proof alcohol.

The three princesses watched in shock and horror as Andrew watched the serial killer engulfed in flames burn with no smile nor disgust as the killer screamed for it to end, though he couldn’t speak.

‘How could he do such a thing?’ Twilight asked with a tear rolling down her cheek. ‘How could he kill with no emotion what so ever?’

‘Twilight, while I do not approve of his actions the one known as Richards was unredeemable. He killed with malice and intent with no remorse for what he had done. We don’t know how their penal system works. For all we know this is how they deal with people like him,’ Celestia replied.

I finally decided that he had had enough after he tried to roll on the floor trying to put out the flames. I raised my P90 and emptied the magazine into him. The bolt locked back as there was no more ammunition to fire. I pulled out my Glock and walked over to the still smoldering body and put one round in his head. A double tap.

‘Ok I’ll admit that was overkill,’ Luna stated.

I cut the zip tie and as I stood up the other two walked back in the room, guns raised and looked at me. “He got free and tried to make a break for it. Isn’t that right officer?” I say to the one taking care of Spitfire.

“Yes sir, he did try to run and you stopped him.”

“Good, now to the other situation at hand,” I say picking up Spitfire and placing her in a princess carry. You know the ones that you see in all those Disney movies?

‘The anger is gone,’ Celestia commented. ‘It has been replaced with worry.’

I carried Spitfire out of the cafeteria and down the stairs that we came up. As I quickly walked through the corridor Spitfire stirred and said a dry “Uhhh.”

“Spits, stay with me, alright? You’ll be fine,” I say looking down at her. She could barely open her eyes.

“Why can’t I feel anything?” she asked.

“You’ve been shot up with enough morphine to knock out a rhino,” I answer quickly moving around some scattered debris on the ground.

“Ok,” she says blinking slowly. “I’m just… going… to rest my… eyes,” she finishes and her eyes close slowly. But her breathing has slowed as well.

I crash through doors that closed from earlier. In the parking lot near the APC we arrived in there was a Blackhawk with its rotors already powered up.

“We need to take off immediately!” I yell to the pilot, motioning with my index finger in a circular movement.

I saw the SWAT commander come over, “What about the Slasher?!?” he yelled over the engines.

“He’s dead!” I yelled back. “He tried to run after escaping with a knife and I shot him! We need to go now!” The helicopter doors closed and we took off. I held Spitfire’s wrapped hand and whispered, “You’ll be fine. Just stay with me.”

Author's Note

If you haven't already make sure you read part 1 of this chapter, it's necessary. Ok or maybe not, but you're missing out.
“Perimortum” means prior to death. It’s derived from Latin. “Peri-” the prefix for before, and “morum” meaning death.
There’s a Checkov’s gun in this chapter, can you find it? You’ll find out later what it is if you haven’t.
I also make a South Park reference as well, can you find it as well? If you have, kudos.
As for that endgame there, damn. Don't piss off Andrew, that's for sure.
I would like to believe that I caught all my errors, if I missed something PM me or comment it out.
Also I'm working on a Christmas chapter so stay tuned for that. Ideally it'll be released Christmas Eve or Christmas Day.

Patch Notes

(5/15/14)
"Willing victim": What I meant here were victims that didn't put up a fight, or were surprised and weren't able to fight back.

Chapter 11: The Hospital

Chapter 11: Road to Recovery

Blackhawk in route to Desert Sands Memorial

I held Spitfire’s hand, even though she was still unconscious. A medic set up a saline solution bag to start flowing into her veins. The ride lasted less than ten minutes as we settled down on the roof of the hospital on its helipad. Luckily the Flight for Life chopper was already gone elsewhere. I unclipped my P90 from its strap and handed it over to the medic.

“Make sure that gets put away!” I yell over the roar of the engine rotors. Hospital staff came through the double doors leading to the elevator with a stretcher. I picked up Spitfire like I did before and met them halfway across the pad and placed her on the stretcher. They immediately asked me what happened. “She has two broken legs, one compound and the other a clean break, she has deep cuts on her arms that have been salted, and her lower torso has been burned,” I explain.

They gave me a weird look before continuing to push the gurney into the elevator, me tailing them by a few feet. They don’t give me a second look at my Glock due to me wearing SWAT body armor. The elevator descends to the ER level and the nurses and orderlies around the cart were yelling, telling people to move out of the way. We finally reach the double doors leading to the ER, but a nurse holds me back from going inside.

“I’m sorry sir, you’re going to have to wait here,” she said putting a hand to my body armored chest. “Hospital staff only. You can wait over there,” she said pointing to some seats. I stared at her for a few moments before turning away in a huff and sat down. A few other people in the room looked at me funny, mainly because of the blood on my arms and sleeves. Well and the body armor isn’t helping any either. Or the gun.

While seated I lean forward and place my elbows on my thighs with my hands folded. With my thumbs extended I place each thumb between the area where my eye socket crease up and the bridge of my nose is and sigh.

“Mr.?” a young voice came from next to me. I looked next to me and saw a young girl of maybe five or six with a splint on her arm. “Are you a policeman?”

I paused for a moment. “Yeah I am, sort of.”

“Sort of?” she asked. “How can you be ‘sort of’ a policeman?”

“Ok, fine. You got me,” I say holding my hands up. “I’m not a policeman. BUT I was a guest of the police to help hunt down a very bad man.”

“A bad man?” she asked with innocence in her eyes.

“You know that bad man they’ve been talking about on the news for a while?” I asked and she thought for a moment before nodding. “With my help that bad man won’t be hurting anyone anymore.”

“How did-?” she started to ask. I knew what she was going to ask next: ‘how will he not hurt anyone anymore?’

“Say how did you break your arm?” I ask redirecting the question.

“Well I was riding my bicycle when-”

***

Well that took a good half hour for that little girl to tell her tale of breaking her arm before one of the nurses came by and told her family it was her turn to get looked at. As I went back to my old position of sitting down I started thinking. Thinking of what I told that lab tech, that I never told my parents that I got married. I pull out my phone and unlock it. I stare at my wallpaper for a long time, though only a minute or two passes. Should I tell them? They do in a sense have a right to know.

I hold down the “home” button until it prompts me for a voice command. “Call mom and dad,” I say to the microphone. It makes a little *beep* catching my command. The dialing tone started to sound. It went on for a few seconds before someone picked up.

“Hello? Who is this?” a female voice said.

“Mom,” I reply.

“Andrew, what’s going on? Why are you calling so early?”

“Mom. We need to talk.”

“What is it, is it something serious?”

I sigh, “In a sense, yes. Remember when I moved to Vegas two months ago?”

“Yes, you said it was because the job you took was there.”

“Well that’s part of it, but most I can’t tell you about.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell me about it?”

“Mom look up ‘nondisclosure agreement’ online when you get the chance, it’ll explain without explaining anything what I’m doing.” I took a deep breath, “Mom for the last two months I’ve…” I paused trying to muster up the strength to tell her.

“You’ve been what, sweetie? What’s wrong? Is it something serious?” she asked with genuine concern in her voice.

“Serious, yes. But nothing is wrong, well sort of. You see I’m… m-m-m-m-married,” I finished before cringing for what was about to come next.

And 3…2…1… “WHAT!?!” Yep, there it is. “Why did you tell me you were getting married? Or dating?” Ok… I expected her to be a little more… angry.

“Mom, you are taking this... well, rather well.”

“Well of course! My baby boy finally got himself a woman. So who’s the lucky lady?” she asked excitedly.

“Well I-” I trailed off.

“Doctor Jackson to the OR. Doctor Jackson to the OR, thank you," the female voice said over the intercom.

“Andrew, are you in the hospital? You’re all right, right?” she started panicking.

“Yes mom, I’m fine,” I reply trying to reassure her. And to keep her from having a heart attack. I stand up and walk towards the entrance of the ER lobby and I stop right before exiting the ward. “The reason I’m calling is because my wife is in the ER right now, and to be honest, I’m worried.”

“Honey, what happened?” she asked.

I told her everything, well minus the parts I’m not allowed to say. Well and the part where I lit the killer bastard on fire before emptying an entire fifty round magazine of 5.7x28mm rounds into his body before double tapping his head with your standard nine mil round. Ok I left in the part where I killed him, just not the how.

“Dear, that’s just… terrible. I don’t know what to say,” she said still in shock from what I told her.

“I know,” I reply leaning against the frame of a door. “I just don’t know what to do.” I ran my hand through my hair as I sigh.

“Well the thing to do right now is wait and see. The doctors will do their job right, you just need to be there for her. Just like your dad was for me when you and your sister were born.”

“Ok that last part was a little too much in the information department mom, but I get what you’re saying.”

“What’s her name, by the way?”

“Samantha, but I either call her Sam or Spitfire.”

“Why Spitfire?”

“Well mom that’s a long story for another time, I’ll call or text you when she wakes up. Maybe you’ll be able to talk to her,” I say with a somewhat sunny disposition.

“Ok sweetie, just be patient and keep your chin up. It’ll all work out. I love you.”

“I love you too, mom,” I say before I hang up and stare at my phone’s home screen again. I open the photo viewing app and I look at an image of us in front of the replica of the Space Needle downtown from a few weeks ago that we got some passerby to take for us. We took two photos that day, one was a more serious image. You know the type, nice looking that you send to family. And then we took a funny image, the kind you send to friends. She was fake leaning against one side while I was doing the same to the other side.

It brought a smile to my face as I looked at them. I locked my phone and put it back in my pocket. I walk over to the nurses station and get the attention of one of the younger female nurses, “Excuse me, is there a place where I can wash up? I sort have my wife’s blood on me,” I ask.

“Umm sure?” she replied confused. “Hey did I hear you say you killed the Vegas Strip Slasher on the phone just now?”

“Yeah?” I replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed.

“Ow, tinnitus,” I said sarcastically clearing one of my ears.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said with a sheepish smile. “Here I’ll take you to the locker rooms, you can use them,” she said taking my hand and pulling me towards one of the locker rooms. We went through several corridors and were at least on the other side of the hospital by now. We went down another flight of stairs before ending up at the locker rooms. “Alright so the left one is the men’s locker room. When you’re done just head down that hallway and take a left, it’ll take you straight to the main lobby.”

“Thanks,” I said as she walked away, “I guess,” I finished as she quickly turned around the corner. I opened the door and walked inside. There was no one that I could hear as I walked inside, my steel-toed boots making light footfalls as I passed the lockers and went straight for the showers. What? I haven’t showered since I left for work yesterday.

I undo the Velcro of the SWAT vest and set it aside. I finish undressing and leave my gun holster hanging over the shower stall wall. What? I don’t want some random stealing my gun now do I? I turn on the water and let it go scalding hot first before adding some cold water to the mix. I walk under it and just sit there just letting the water coat me from head to toe. The blood on my arms melt away as the water touches it and it runs right down the shower drain.

I must have just stood there for an hour because the hot water started to run luke-warm. I turned it off and stepped out. I saw a dry towel sticking out of a locker and temporarily stole it to dry off. After I was confident that I was dry I put the towel back. The person who owns it probably won’t get off of their shift anyway for another few hours anyway, so it should be fine. I redress, except for putting on the body armor, but I did carry it on my person.

I walk back out to the lobby and find the directory which pointed the way back to the ER. As I walked the dimmed hallway back to the waiting room my mind started flashing back to my conversation with mom. ‘Wait and see what happens.’ What does that even mean? I know that Spits will have a shit-ton of physical therapy in her future, mainly because of the broken legs. She’d have to get used to numerous scars on her arms from the knife used on her and then possibly have issues with phantom pains. Then there’s the burn, if the docs do their job right there shouldn’t be any notable marks signifying a skin graft, but she’ll know it’s there.

Oh psychological trauma, you can go fuck yourself. Preferably with a sharp and rusty iron spit up your ass. What? Too personal? No matter. I’ll probably have to take her in to the base’s shrink to see what damage that fucker did. Hopefully he’s rotting in hell right now. I’ll probably have to be checked out for filling that guy full of lead, literally, after lighting him on fire. Oh joy, a psych evaluation.

I walk back in to the waiting room only to have anyone who could stand look straight at me and started applauding me. “Umm, what’s this about?” I ask to no one in particular.

“Well you took down a serial killer, silly,” the same nurse from before answered.

“Umm ok?” I said strolling into the waiting room’s main area. “Everyone if I could have you attention!” I said loud enough to be heard over the clapping and slowly they stopped. “Listen I’m honored that you want to treat me as such,” the started cheering again. “BUT,” I said loud enough again to make them stop, “I am just a man doing his job and would it would be considerate of you guys to think it as such. Thank you,” I finished.

I walk back over to the nurses’ station and get the attention of one of them, “Excuse me, what is the condition of Mrs. Samantha Briggs?”

“I’m sorry, who?” the nurse asked.

“The woman I came in with. You know: broken legs, burned stomach area, cut up arms. That ring a bell?” I say a little frustrated.

“Oh yes, her. One moment,” she said looking down. “I’m sorry, we had her listed as a ‘Jane Doe.’ One second and I’ll make a change to her charts,” she said typing away at her keyboard. “Alright there we go, all fixed. Do you have insurance?”

“Call this number,” I say handing her Hernandez’s office number. “He’ll give you the information you need.” She took the piece of paper, “Anyway back to the topic at hand, my wife?”

“Oh yes. She should be out of surgery in the next quarter hour for her leg. The casts should be setting soon. We’re scheduling a skin graft later today for the burns. Her chart says that they’ve got a doctor being flown in to perform the procedure,” she pressed a few keys on the computer, “It’s being performed tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks, just let me know when she has an assigned room,” I said before walking back to a seat. This is going to be a long fifteen minutes.

***

Fifteen minutes later

I saw Spitfire being carted from the ER and a nurse approached me. “Mr. Briggs?” he said to the room. And I stood up and approached him. “Your wife’s room has been arranged. This way please.” He led me to her room. Inside was Spitfire konked out on whatever cocktail of pain killers they’ve got her on. I look and see that her legs were in casts now and her arms had been stitched up.

I look around the room and see a man asleep in a full body cast. “Damn man, it looks like you tried to play human Frogger and lost,” I muttered. I looked back at Spitfire and saw that there was still gauze around her torso with what looks like burn salve on them. I pull up a chair beside the bed and take her hand, like I did a few months ago back in Area 51. I grip it gently and she reacted by grabbing me back, however I dismissed it as a muscle reaction.

I slouched back in the chair, which by the way was quite comfortable. I guess the hospital directors thought that it would be a good idea for the loved ones of the admitted to be comfortable while visiting. My eyes started to flutter shut as the lack of sleep from the last twenty-four hours started to catch up with me. Eventually I surrendered and fell asleep.

***

I woke up when I ray of light hit me coming in through the window. As I looked around the room as my eyes came back into focus, I saw that Spitfire’s bed was gone. I walked back in the hall and saw a person in scrubs. An intern perhaps? “Hey buddy!” I shouted to him. “Come here for a second.” He came over, “Hey do you know what happened to my wife?” I pointed to the empty place that Spitfire’s bed was.

The intern walked over and looked at the chart on the door, “Looks like she just went into surgery not too long ago for a…” he looked down at some of the fine print, “skin graft.”

“How long will it take?” I ask.

“It looks like it’ll take three hours until it’s done.” Great, another three hours of waiting.

***

Three hours later

I walked back inside the hospital after running over to the bar across the street, not to drink but to get a bite to eat, and who am I kidding I may have had a shot or two. Plus the game was on TV so why not? I need something to help keep my sanity right now. I mean the woman I love is in surgery right now and I needed to stop thinking about the bad things that could happen while on the table. For the record, I’m not drunk at all.

As I enter her room there’s Spitfire on her bed again looking relaxed, and well, tranquil. Well she’s out like a light. I take my seat back at her side and turn on the TV. I started flipping through the channels until I found a college basketball game playing, I put it on mute and watched it silently.

“Hey,” I looked over and saw Colonel Hernandez standing in the doorway. I stood up to salute him, but he was way ahead of me, “At ease.” I sat back down, “How’s she doing?” he asked.

“Better,” I sigh. “I talked to one of the doctors earlier, he said that ‘Sam’ would make a full recovery. Though physical therapy is going to be a bitch once those casts come off. For the next month or so for the clean break she’s going to be confined to a wheelchair.” I sat there for a moment before a thought crossed my mind, “Shouldn’t you already know this? More importantly how are you keeping her ‘assets,’” I put in air quotes, “under wraps?”

***

Meanwhile in another universe

The spy took a sip of his margarita as he read the story in front of him, “Phrasing.”

***

“I knew about it, I thought I should hear it from you. And as for you second question I made all persons involved sign a nondisclosure agreement,” he replied. He walked closer and took a look at the damage himself. “You know, we do have some experimental treatments back at base that we could do.”

I thought for a good long while, “I’ll think about it. More importantly I think that she should make the final decision since it’s her body.”

“Andrew, I think that’s a good idea.” That first part caught me by surprise, he never used my first name like this before.

“Getting a little familiar now, are we?”

“Well this isn’t a formal meeting.”

“So just a checkup then,” I sigh.

“So who’s winning?” he said dragging my attention elsewhere.

I cross one of my legs, “I think ASU’s winning.”

“Hey what’s wrong with your leg?” he said pointing at my crossed leg. I looked down and saw a small blood stain on the leg of my pants. I pulled my pant leg up and saw an inch long cut and only a hairsbreadth wide and maybe an eighth of an inch deep. There was a small scabbing of blood along the cut, but no blood was flowing, but when I looked at the pant leg there was quite a lot of blood on it, not enough to cause blood loss, but enough for someone to notice.

I shrugged at it, “Huh, must’ve happened during the last breach we did. I bum-rushed the Slasher back at the factory. He must’ve knocked a scalpel loose when I tackled him and it fell down and cut me. What’s done is done. Plus the bastard got what was coming to him.”

“Yeah I heard about that. Talk about overkill.” I gave him a ‘are you shitting me?’ look, “I’m not going to deny that the bastard was the scum of the earth, but there’s limits.”

“He tried to run, and he had a gun,” I lied.

“Right,” he deadpanned. “The so-called story that’s being passed around about how the Slasher tried to run and was shot with fifty rounds then caught fire.”

“There was a natural gas pipe, it got clipped as a round exited his body. A second round caused a spark starting the fire,” I continued the lie.

“I know the truth, just make sure to keep yourself in line lieutenant,” he said leaving the room.

I must have sat there for a good two hours just looking at the TV, but not really paying any attention to it. I heard Spitfire’s breathing start to pick up and she made a groaning.

***

Present time

“And that’s when you woke up,” I finished.

“Wait, so you set the guy on fire, THEN shot him?” Spitfire asked and I only nodded, “Damn, remind you to never piss you off like that,” she said with a chuckle.

“Well I’m going to be honest, that guy has been the only one who’s ever got me that mad before,” I said scratching my whiskers.

“Well thank you for getting that mad on my account,” she said giving me a quick peck on the lips. She pulled back and laid back down, “So when do I get out of here?”

“Well that’s the bad news. You probably won’t get out of here for at least another week, and that’s just to go home. There’s going to be physical therapy after they get those casts off and checkups on those stitches on your arms to make sure there isn’t any infection.”

“Hey why do I feel so funny by the way?”

“Probably because they’re got you on some pretty strong pain killers going through your IV there.”

“That would explain why my hands look all white and fuzzy,” she said looking at one hand, turning it and looking at it as if she were viewing it for the first time in her life. I give a little laugh at her curiosity, drugged up as it is.

I take a look at the clock, “Well I have to head home and change for work.”

“Aww, can’t you take the day off?” she asked with sad puppy dog eyes.

“I already took one off to find you,” I reply with some sadness. “But I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I lean over and give her a quick kiss on the lips. “Just don’t go anywhere,” I jest.

“Oh ha ha, very funny,” Spitfire retorted throwing one of her pillows at me.

***

Canterlot Castle

Celestia was sitting on her throne, worrying about her marooned subject. She had watched her guardian murder the one that would have murdered her had he not shown up and had her taken to a hospital. ‘Should I let her parents know?’ she thought to herself as some aristocrat tried to propose a law to her. ‘I don’t want them to worry about their daughter. Perhaps I should wait until Twilight comes back with news on her condition.’

“-and that’s why, your majesty, we should increase the taxes for the people of Manehatten,” the middle aged mage finished.

“Your highness, what Lord Penny Pincher has suggested will place tens of thousands in a bind,” replied the younger male mage.

‘I hate politics, why did I ever decide to become a part of it anyways?’ Celestia asked herself. ' I could have stayed in solace raising and lowering the sun while others took care of this hogwash.' She sighed, ‘Twilight if you’re going to choose a time to barge in, now would be the time…’

“Princess Celestia!” cried a female voice as she ran into the throne room, it was Twilight.

‘Oh thank the makers,’ she thought. “Gentlemen I believe we can take this up another time,” she said to the two. “Ladies and gentlemen, we will continue day court after an hour long recess, your cases will be handled in the order they were before, thank you,” she said in a louder tone to the rest of the hall. As the people attending court left and the doors closed, Twilight approached the throne.

“Princess I’ve got good news, Spitfire’s awake and is going to make a full recovery,” Twilight said excitedly.

“Well that is good news indeed. I will have to let her parents know that she will be alright.”

“There was one other thing I needed to talk to you about,” Twilight said in a more serious tone.

“Oh?” Celestia replied with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ve noticed a weird mana level reading on Andrew over the last few hours.”

“What do you mean?”

Twilight opened her notebook, “Well starting soon after Andrew brought Spitfire to this hospital his mana level has been increasing from almost nothing to the amount you’d see in an infant mage. Not enough to do anything with, but enough to be noticed.”

“This is something to be concerned about,” Celestia said scratching her chin in thought.

“However for the last few hours it’s remained at that level,” Twilight finished then closed her notebook.

“Do you know how this could have happened?” Celesita asked trying to wrap her mind around how a being in a society that only has enough mana to sustain life could now have enough energy as a newborn mage.

“I’ve been looking over the recording of what we saw the other night; before you ask, yes I do have had a recording crystal recording everything we’ve seen since the second time we used the mirror spell. It looked like a scalpel covered in Spitfire’s blood fell while Andrew was charging the murderer and he got a small cut on his leg. And I’m guessing that-”

“Spitfire’s blood mixed with Andrew’s causing a rise in the mana levels in his body,” Celestia finished for Twilight. “It makes sense. We should keep an eye on him.”

“That’s what I planned on doing,” Twilight replied.

***

Shadow of Vegas Bar and Grill

I walked into work, I’m going to guess that the boss won’t be too happy about me skipping out last night. “Briggs! Get your ass into my office!” he yelled. Called it. I walked in and saw my boss waiting for me and a TV on with the news paused on it. “Care to explain this?” I looked closer at the screen and saw my face on it and the text below it saying, ‘Local man kills serial killer.’

“Oh that,” I say scratching my head. “I just shot and killed the serial killer that abducted my wife, that’s all,” I tried to pass off a sheepish smile.

“That brings up another question, why were you there? I thought that SWAT was there. Is there something you’re not telling me?” he asked with scrutiny.

“Well…” I started.

“Do you know what? I don’t care. Show up on time and do your job. Now get.” He said gesturing to the office door.

I walked out and started prepping for the night, we’d be opening in less than a half hour. I started to clean out some glasses and reached for the rag, which was a good foot or so away, but instead of moving I reached anyway. I turned to put the glass down but when I did I felt the cloth of the rag in my hand, then I looked and there it was.

“That was odd,” I said shrugging it off.

***

Canterlot Castle, Mirror room

Twilight’s jaw dropped at what she just saw. The rag moved from its resting spot to Andrew's hand. “Andrew just… he… how did he-?” she stammered. She felt for the mana levels from before and only felt a small residual level that remained in Andrew’s body. They were higher than before he got the cut, but lower than they were just before.

“I’ll have to keep an eye on this,” Twilight muttered.

Author's Note

There’s two Archer references, can you find them?
Yes that nurse is like real world's version of Pinkie, at least in enthusiasm.
There is also a Burn Notice reference as well.
“Bum-rushed” is something I’ve been saying a lot when I substitute it for, in the lack of a better word, speed run when doing gaming videos.
Also the dark/gore warning I posted for the two previous chapters ends here, though it may appear in the future. Just a heads up.
Also I would like to believe I caught all my errors. If I didn't go ahead and PM or comment them out to me and I'll fix them ASAP.
I know a few people were disappointed about chapter 10, but I'm working on something right now for a future chapter which should be much more satisfactory, hopefully. I've been in the car for about 40 hours, I've had a long ass time to give it some thought. Also the Christmas chapter is being finished as we speak so it'll be up as soon as I finish writing and editing it, just a heads up it's going to be one of the longest chapter I've written, you have that long ass car ride to blame for that as well.

Chapter 12: Doctor's Appointment

Chapter 12: Doctor's Appointment

Two weeks later

Spitfire had been restless the last two weeks, and in a completely understandable way. If you were restricted to a bed for two weeks at first you’d say “oh this is wonderful” for maybe the first day or two, but by about day three you’d start getting antsy just to get some fresh air. By day four you start pleading a nurse to let you outside. By the second week you’d kill someone with a rusty spoon just to get out of the bed and walk again.

I can tell you right away right now, Spitfire is antsy to get out of here. Last week I made a ramp in the garage and front door, which should help. She called her work and they’ve given her time off. I mean how can you schedule in a serial killer abducting you? I can see it now: “yes I would like to schedule some time off,” “why?” “oh I’m going to be abducted by a serial killer.” Yeah like that’ll ever happen.

I visited every day before work. Trust me when I say she needed me there. The nurses said that she would go into a “shell” and wouldn’t talk to anyone unless it was necessary, but when I showed up she would open up. None of the doctors could figure it out, to them it’s a mystery. But then again they aren’t psychologists trained in dealing and diagnosing psychological trauma. That I’ll leave to the experts back at the base.

I’ve been working almost silently at the bar. Yeah I greet customers, but I don’t really chat with them. I know Spits is up and all, but it’s just one of those things where you tend to worry more than you should. Honestly I’m starting to get distracted a bit, and that’s never too good. I mean yesterday I put the wrong liquor in one of the cocktails that I’ve made hundreds of times. It should be getting better since I’m taking Spitfire home today.

I pulled up into the parking lot and parked. I walked inside to Spits’ room and as I entered I saw that she had already been dressed in some clothes that I brought the other day. The bandages on her arms had been removed. In their place were her pale arms, from a lack of sunlight, and small scars lining her arms. A week ago Hernandez asked Spits if she wanted to be in an experimental treatment to help her along. She agreed, so now there are nanites in her bloodstream slowly repairing her burned skin, and if everything goes to plan, leaving it flawless. Next would be the legs, repairing the bones to their original condition, maybe even stronger. Then finally they would start to work on the scars on her arms, making them either hairlines or nonexistent. What? I read the brief that the programmers wrote up.

They had a nurse working in the medical unit on base come in and inject the nanites. They sure are sneaky are they not? I’m sort of getting off topic now aren’t I? They had her in sweatpants since jean shorts or jeans probably wouldn’t fit over her casts, they are about thigh high after all.

“Hey, how are you doing?” I ask as I approach the bed.

“Better since I can actually go home now,” she said with a smile.

“Mr. Briggs,” said a voice in the doorway. It was one of the nurses. “If you would please come with me, there is some paperwork you need to fill out before we can let your wife leave.” Thirty minutes, and about ten trees worth of paper later, I walked back into Spitfire’s room and saw her already in a wheelchair.

“Can we go now?” Spitfire asked. I turned to the nurse who had been looking over the paperwork before I had come back into the room. She nodded.

“Yes, we can go now,” I said as a CNA walked behind the wheelchair and started pushing it, me walking alongside. We were walked to the front entrance and as soon as we reached the curb the CNA walked back inside, and I took the handles and pushed.

“Why do I have to be pushed in a wheelchair?” she asked.

“It’s hospital policy,” I started as I looked around. I saw no one, “Spits. They make you ride in a wheelchair until you get inside your car. They did the same thing for me when I got my wisdom teeth cut out years ago. It was only fifty feet to the car, but they still did it out of policy.”

She pouted with her arms crossed, “I could fly instead with two broken legs and it would be less humiliating,” Spitfire muttered.

“Well you can fly around inside when we get back home,” I commented. Spitfire’s eyes widened as she realized that she said that a little too loud. She looked back at me, “Well you said it quiet, but not quiet enough,” I said with a smug grin. I got her inside the passenger side and then I started driving back to the house. We drove for a good ten minutes before Spitfire talked.

“So what has work said?” she asked.

“I called them the day you got admitted on one of my breaks, they said to take as much time as you needed to recover. Of course you’re not getting paid because it wasn’t on the job,” I replied. She gave me a surprised look, “It’s not like we’re in financial straits,” I said shrugging. We arrived home in silence, well the radio was on, but in vocal silence.

I pulled into the driveway and put the car into park. Opening the trunk I pulled out the wheelchair that the hospital let us keep. I set it up and wheeled it over to Spitfire’s side. She opened the door and swung into the wheelchair as I held it in place. She settled into the chair and turned back to look at me.

“I can take it from here,” she said trying to move the chair via the wheel railings. But she didn’t move.

I looked and saw that she missed something, “Hey the brakes are still on.”

She took off the brakes and I chucked a bit. She shot a death glare and said, “Shut up.” I raised my hands as if I were being arrested by the police for a second before putting them down again. I went out to the mailbox and got the mail. As I went inside I saw Spits taking off her shirt and stretching her wings out. We still haven’t found a way for her to freely have her wings out outside of a sports bra. Or any bra actually.

She flexed her wings and started flapping them until she was airborne, or as high as one could be in a living room with a twenty foot ceiling. She hovered over to my recliner before setting herself down in it. Smart girl, if you’re going to spend the next month or two laid up like this, you might as well do it in comfort. She turned on the TV and watched a program or two. I too watched for a bit before having to take off to work. As I headed for the door I passed my recliner, which now had a semi-conscious Spitfire on it, the meds must be kicking in again. She reached out and grabbed my arm and looked at me with pleading eyes.

“Come home soon,” she said before letting go, falling into a comfortable looking sleep.

***

One bartending shift later

I opened the door leading from the garage as quietly as I could. As I walked inside and took off my shoes and hung up my keys I head Spitfire say, “Andrew is that you?” from the bedroom.

“Yeah it’s me,” I replied. I walked into the bedroom and saw her already dressed for bed. “What’s wrong?” I asked as I saw her distressed expression.

“Can you sleep with me tonight?” she asked innocently.

“Wait, do you mean-?” I started. She seemed to know where I was going.

“No, not like that. Can you just sleep with me in the same bed and hold on to me, please?” I was relieved when I heard that instead of the alternative.

After what she’s been through I’m pretty much up for helping her in any way that I can. “Sure, I just need to take a shower first.” One shower later I walked out in my sleep clothes, my shirt from the day and a pair of sweatpants. I set myself under the covers and slid close to Spitfire. She wrapped my arm around her shoulders and twisted herself so that while her legs were straight, her torso was pressed into me so that I could feel her breasts touching my left side.

She then wrapped my arm around her and let it sit on her hip/midsection. She let go of my arm but then embraced my torso. “Thanks for everything Andrew,” she said starting to drift off with a yawn.

“You’re welcome, Spits,” I replied holding her a little tighter. “Now get some rest now, that’s what the doctor ordered after all.”

“Ok. Goodnight Andrew,” she said nodding off.

“Goodnight Spits,” I echoed. I rested my eyes and then opened them again. A few blinks later and I also was out like a lamp.

***

The next day, late morning

We stood in the airport terminal, or should I say private terminal for private flights. Do you know what the best part is about these private terminals? You don’t have to wait in line for baggage checks or overly touchy-feely TSA agents. Yeah we still go through metal detectors, but it’s a small line in comparison to the commercial flights. I mean you’re through in like fifteen minutes, depending on the lines of course, instead of an hour or more in the other concourses.

We got on the private jet. Yes this time we got a really nice private jet; the flight that takes the civilian contractors and other workers back and forth between the base and Vegas. Today the reason for our journey was for the techs to see the progress of the nanites and for Spitfire to meet with a psychologist that works on base. You’d be surprised at how many military personnel as well as contractors that get all crazy and emotional when it comes to stress on the job. Getting Spitfire up the ramp and into the plane had been the annoying part since there were only stairs. She hates it, but I had to “princess carry” her into the cabin, a flight attendant bringing up the wheelchair.

One plane ride later and I had to repeat the same thing in reverse. Carrying her down the steps to the wheelchair. I carted her to the science wing. As I did I was saluted by those of lesser rank, not to say they are lesser people, well you know what I mean. I walk inside the lab and one of the technicians comes over and talks to Spits.

“So Mrs. Briggs, how have you been feeling?” he asks.

“Better. My arms are at least healed up to the point at which I don’t need bandages on them. The skin graft seems to be working nicely. And my legs itch,” she replied.

“They itch?” he echoed.

“Yeah they itch and I can’t scratch them,” she said rapping her knuckle gently against the cast.

“Did you try using a coat hanger?” a pilot asked as he passed. I could tell based on his uniform. “I broke my arm once as a kid, a hanger saved me from going insane,” he finished as he walked away.

“Why did you think of that?” Spitfire asked me elbowing me in the ribs.

“Well I never had a broken anything, so I wouldn’t have thought about it,” I replied. She gave me that ‘are you shitting me look.’ “I’m sorry ok. If you want I’ll go find one now as,” I squinted at the guy’s name tag, “Schmidt here finishes his diagnostics.”

I walked out of the lab and spotted a guard. “Hey buddy,” I said getting her attention. “Do you know where I can find a wire coat hanger?”

***

One trip later to the barracks and I had a wire coat hanger. I hope the poor sap I borrowed it from doesn’t get too angry at me. If he or she does they can get over it, it’s just a hanger. I found a pair of pliers and undid the wire so it more or less resembled a jimmy that you would use to unlock a car, but in half. I don’t want her bleeding under cast from a sharp part of the wire now do I?

I walked back into the lab with the hanger and see that Spitfire was just finishing up her thing with the technician guy. “Milady, your scratcher thing,” I said handing it over. Immediately she plunged the wire under one cast at a time scratching the itches that were driving her nuts. Every time she hit one she sighed in satisfaction.

“Alright then it seems like we’re all done,” he said as he punched in a few keys on his keyboard.

“So what did you do?” I asked.

“Well I reprogrammed the nanites to finish cosmetic changes on the skin graft. Next is making sure that the leg bones stay set and mend properly so they’ll make sure that happens. Next is the cosmetic look on the scar on the compound fracture. Lastly are the scars on her arms, those will go away as scheduled previously. So far though the reading look good for more field testing.”

We walked to the office building portion of the base. Spitfire wanted to fly, but I reminded her that it would require her to take off her shirt again and I’m pretty sure there are a few guys on base that would like to see some free boobage, even if they were still covered by a bra. I’ve got to talk to the guys in R&D and see if I can get some clothing that lets her wings out, but also lets them be concealed. Perhaps Hernandez could arrange that. Anyway we arrive inside the base’s psychologist’s office. I take her to the receptionist, but I’m told.

“I’m sorry sir. She’s the only one that can go in during the appointment. The doctor will want to talk with you afterwards though, that’s usually how it goes for spouses,” she says as she paged the doctor. Her phone rang and she picked it up and only said into it, “Ok.” She placed it back and said, “He’ll see you now Mrs. Briggs.”

I watched her go inside and the door close. Great, now I have to figure out what I’m going to do for the next hour. No wait, I think I know just what to do. A smile started creeping up on my face. I knew exactly what I want to do.

***

I was laughing manically, “SUCK IT BITCHES!” I exclaimed pulling the trigger on the joystick. The plane’s cannons roared to life spitting fire and death everywhere it touched. The computer then started saying, “Missile lock, missile lock, missile lock,” before an impact hit the plane and flames shot over the cockpit. My vision went dark for a moment before being replaced with a bright white light.

“Simulation complete,” a mechanical female voice said as the cockpit opened.

“Well I can definitely tell you’re not a pilot,” a female officer said.

“Well you’ve got that right, I just needed to kill an hour and here we are,” I replied.

“Why?” she asked.

“Wife’s in a therapy session with the base shrink and I didn’t want to wait around in a stuffy waiting room, so instead I thought ‘hey why not a flight simulator?’ And here I am.” I looked down at my watch, “Speaking of which, it’s getting out in a few minutes,” I said getting out of the simulator. “Would you mind setting a one hour block next week at the same time?”

“I can do that,” she replied tapping her tablet a few times. “Have a good day Lieutenant,” she said saluting as I left.

I walked back to the part of the base in which Spitfire had been getting her therapy session with the shrink in. When I arrived inside I saw the doctor shaking Spitfire’s hand saying, “Now remember what I said Sam, it’s normal to feel this way this soon after such an incident. Now we’ll meet at the same time next week, alright?” he said. Spitfire nodded her head. “Good,” he looked over to me. “Ah Lt. Briggs, if you would please come in for a moment, I’d like to have a word with you for a few minutes.”

I walked inside his office and he closed the door. “Doctor-?” I started looking around for a name plate or something that would identify him.

“Oppenheimer, Lt. Briggs. I don’t think we have formally met,” he said offering me his hand. I shook it, “Now if you would please have a seat.”

“You want to talk to me about Sam?” I asked getting myself settled in the really nice leather chair.

“Yes your dear wife Samantha,” he said sitting down, grabbing a rag to clean his glasses. “It seems as though she’s suffering from PTSD, which was expected as a possibility. Has she been doing anything out of the ordinary?” he asked putting his glasses back on.

I thought for a moment, “Well she has been a little clingy while she sleeps. Is that one?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose in thought, “It seems as though clinging to you for ‘safety’ while she sleeps. She wants to feel safe Andrew, may I call you Andrew? So I would advise letting her keep clinging to you, you’re her safe-zone.”

“Safe-zone?” I echoed.

“Yes, you know. A place or person at which one can feel safe at or with even if the world’s going to all hell outside the window.” He took a long breath on his ecigarette and blew out the vapor, “Andrew the best thing you can do for her right now is to be there for her, and to watch for suicidal tendencies.”

***

Another day at the bar, another paycheck to put in the bank for later. Nothing much has happened over the last week. Spitfire and I went back to the base for another appointment. She got another session talking to a doctor, I got to ride a surfboard behind a tank through some mud. Which, by the way is really fun to do, other than having to take a shower afterwards though.

I walked inside the house and locked up like I always do and head towards the bedroom. As I walk inside I hear Spitfire speak up. “Hey Andrew, can you sleep with me again?”

Well if she wants to cuddle up to make her feel safe, who am I to deny her that? “Sure,” I reply.

Author's Note

The wisdom teeth part? Based on a true story experienced by yours truly. I had 5 wisdom teeth pulled that day, I think I still have the picture of them sitting around somewhere.
I have no personal experience with psychology, the only reference book I even have on psych is an “intro to psych” book I had for a course I took one summer for a degree.
I did sort of reference the ending scene to the pilot episode for FOX’s new show Enlisted there. You should check it out if you get the chance.
A bit of a shorter chapter this time, blame my newly acquired copy of Skyrim for the PC.
I would like to believe that I've caught all my errors, if I haven't send me PM or comment it out and I'll fix it ASAP.

Chapter 12.5: Spitfire's Diary (Part 3)

Author's Note

Due to a slight oversight on my part the events recorded in this chapter will start taking place after Spitfire being admitted to the hospital and then continuing with the events after chapter 12.
There's a slight formatting change being instead of "~~=~~" being used to mark where a date ends I've changed it to the horizontal rule. I've also removed the year from the end of each date, but am keeping it for the first entry of each chapter, too much redundancy I guess. The only time that a year will appear twice in a chapter is when a year changes like for example December 31 -> January 1.
If there's errors or anything else like that, you guys who have been reading this will know what to do.

Chapter 12.5: Spitfire's Diary (Part 3)

September 9, 2020

Well the last few days have literally been hell. Honestly I don't want to talk about it. Andrew was nice enough to bring my journal from the house so that I could write in it while he's away at work or when I'm just plain bored. I've been in the hospital before and I can say that it always goes like this:

First day isn't so bad, second gets a little boring, and so on and so forth before you're ready to go full psycho on someone just to let you out finally. This isn't going to be fun at all. Having two broken legs isn't fun, but being on meds is. I feel so light headed from time to time, but not passing out light headed, but just having a lack of pain at all. It's wonderful considering what I've gone through the last few days.

They took me in for a skin graft earlier today, so I won't have a burned torso anymore, though they said that the skin will probably be a little discolored even after it fully heals. Fun, bikini season isn't looking all too well for me now is it? I should call it a night before the meds start wearing off.

September 10

Well I was approached by Hernandez today while Andrew was out at work, he offered me a solution for my current situation. He said it would involve an injection of something he called nanites. He said they were tiny machines with programming to do a certain thing, in this case it would be repairing my injured body. He said they were experimental so there was a chance that they might not even work properly.

I'm thinking of taking him up on his proposal. Though I think I'll take the night to sleep it over.

September 12

Well yesterday I had Andrew call up Hernandez and accept his proposal. They sent one of their scientists dressed as one of the nurses and give me an injection through the IV line which the pain killers were already running through. I started feeling a tingling sensation a little earlier on my stomach so I guess it's working. Andrew stopped by again, like he's been doing every day. Him being around makes me feel at ease. Where was I? Oh yes. He let me know that he got me off work indefinitely until I recover.

I'm starting to think that the only reason I'm feeling my stomach area "tingle" is because I'm hopped up on pain killers at the moment. I'm sort of not wanting to find out what this feels like without pain meds.

September 14

Well these nanite things work slow. Well I guess it's better to get it done right the first time rather than rushed and have to be redone. The tingling has started to slow down now so that's a good thing.

September 15

OK WELL THAT HURTS! About a few hours ago they had to kick up my pain meds since the nanites went to work on my arms. Since there's a lot of cuts on both arms they started working on them almost individually. Well since they cranked up the meds a bit it's gotten a bit better so that's a very good thing for me.

I'm guessing the pain has something to do with repairing the nerve endings that were severed, but for all I know it's just plain pain just going on.

September 18

I've started feeling a dull throbbing pain in my leg, the one with that clean break. I'm guessing that this will take longer since bones of angels are pretty different from the bone structure of Andrew's people. So I talked with Andrew and it turns out that the reason why this is taking forever is because these nanites don't replicate past a certain number. Well as long as they're doing their job I'm a happy lady.

September 23

FINALLY! I get to go home! *insert joyous cheering here* Well tomorrow at least. It's about time they let me leave. I want to get out of this antiseptic smelling hellhole. The bed was comfortable, the nurses and doctors were mostly nice, but the food was absolutely horrid. I mean it's so bad that it makes the food at the dumpiest of restaurants back home look like five-star restaurants worthy of serving the princesses themselves. I'm looking forward to the home cooked food that Andrew makes. Perhaps we'll have a bar-be-cue style cookout, I'd like that.

September 26

Well sitting around the house is boring. Less annoying than being at the hospital with horrible food, but still boring. I've managed to work out my wings around the house, or the living room at least. It's the largest room in the house, and it also contains the highest point in the house for me to fly up a bit.

I broke out Andrew's old game console and played the game Skyrim. I went with a female Nord warrior instead of a mage, though in retrospect I can become one at any time that I want to. Apparently all the characters can use spells regardless of what path they'd rather pursue. I told Andrew about it, he said "good luck" since it's a eighty plus hour game. Well that will certainly take a great deal of time to finish, which for me is a good thing since I have nothing better to do until these casts come off.

October 2

What level am I now? Oh right, level thirty or forty now, I think. I've really lost myself in this game. I can do anything I want! Well almost anything. Andrew said that the PC version is a lot more fun since you can add community added mods and "enhance your gaming experience." That's really cool if you ask me.

Well they took the first cast off of the leg that had the clean break so at least now I can get around using crutches instead of being confined to a chair or wheelchair. It's so weird not having an object that has been saturating in your body heat for an extended period of time removed. My leg was cold for a good bit for a few minutes. They let me practice with the crutches in the hallway, it was pretty simple enough. Well I did fail once, spectacularly. I could see Andrew laughing a bit, but then he helped me up.

They said that they'd bring me back in a few weeks to take care of the other cast, which means I'll have my full mobility back, maybe with a small limp for a bit. I've been seeing a psychologist since last week. I feel fine, but he thinks different. I've been fine, so why should they be worrying about nothing?

October 7

That was by far one of the most restless sleeps that I have ever had. I woke up in a cold sweat, but the kicker is that I don't remember why I was so flustered in the first place. The last few nights I've been having dreamless, but restful sleep, but now this all of a sudden is an unwelcome surprise.

I also had an issue getting out of a chair. Yeah, I'm not too proud about that one.

October 13

The dreams are getting a little more clear now. I can remember a figure in the dream, but I can't quite see him. I know it's a "he" since the voice is low and masculine. He just keeps laughing, at me no less. Every time I've woken up though Andrew's been there right beside me, holding me like I asked him two weeks ago and every night since. I'm going to talk about these dreams with Dr. Oppenheimer at our next appointment.

On a secondary note my other leg is feeling better, it should be only a short time before that cast gets removed. I think those nanobots are already done and they're just trying to keep up appearances on me to make it look like a semi-normal recovery. Yay science.

October 15

Andrew received an odd phone call last night and apparently we're flying to Washington DC tomorrow for some sort of debriefing or something. I have no idea what it's about and neither does Andrew. I know that it has to deal with me since my presence was requested too. Why would they need to talk to me or Andrew personally? Can't they just talk to his commanding officer and relay the message? I honestly have no idea what's going on now.

Chapter 13: Mr. (and Mrs.) Briggs Goes to Washington*

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 14: For Science*

Chapter 14: For Science*

Chapter 14: For Science

October 20, 2020

“Andrew, are you sure you want to do this?” Spitfire asked. We were in the base’s lab today awaiting my injection of the gene therapy drug. It seems like something out of Stargate: Atlantis doesn’t it? They got the Ancient gene, I could possibly become a fucking super hero.

“For the twentieth time Spits, yes,” I replied. By this point I was rolling my eyes at her whenever she asked that specific question. Spitfire had gotten the other cast off finally, but was told to use the crutches still until she regained the muscles in her legs, or something like that. I can’t really recall it at the moment due to a little thing called anxiety. I really, really hate needles.

“You know, you could back out now and I bet they’d totally understand why.”

I turned to Spits, “If I pussy out now then I’ll regret it.”

The privacy curtain was pulled back and in came one of the scientists, I’ve never seen him before, but why am I surprised, the base is huge. “Hello Herr Briggs,” and apparently he’s German. “And Frauchen Briggs,” he said turning to Spits. He turned back to me, wow this seems like a set-up for one of those old Old Spice commercials. “Are you ready for das procedure?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied.

“Sehr güt!” he said pulled out a medium sized syringe.

As he got close to my arm, which by the way the sleeve was rolled up, a thought came to mind. “Hey doc? What are the side-effects?”

He paused his approach. “Hmm… Well you’ll have a slight headache, possibly some nausea, pain in your shoulder blades if your body accepts ze wing gene, a massive migraine if your body accepts ze ‘magic’ gene, muscle growth if it accepts ze other one. Or nothing at all,” he said jabbing the needle in my arm, which by the way stung a little, I mean why wouldn’t it? It’s a needle being jabbed deep into your flesh. “To ve honest ve have no idea vats going to happen,” he added pushing down the plunger. Before Spits could say anything in protest the syringe was emptied before being pulled out.

“So Herr Briggs, are you feeling anything?” the doctor asked.

My eyes traced the ceiling and looked left and right. I held my arms up just high enough to see my fingers and I started moving them as if I had been typing for a long stint. I set my hands on my thighs. “Nah, nothing. No, wait there’s something,” I said pausing dramatically. The doctor’s eyes widened in anticipation. “No, wait that’s just my stomach.” My stomach started gurgling, “Can we go now? I’d like to eat something.”

The doctor sat there blinking for a few moments, but he finally came back to his senses. “Ja, you may go. But remember that-”

“I’m not allowed to leave the base until the therapy has been completed, I know,” I said getting back on my feet, hopping down from the hospital-style bed.

He turned to Spitfire, “And make sure to keeps notes on his progress, assuming there is any.”

I walked out of the double doors of the lab towards the cafeteria, Spits right beside me. “So,” I trailed as I put on my black leather jacket, “what are you feeling in the mood for today for lunch?” I asked her.

***

Officer’s club, Cloudsdale

“It’s just so weird not having her around,” Soarin said taking a drink of his beer.

“I know what you mean,” the white haired woman said beside him. “It’s been close to four months now, hasn’t it?”

“It has, Echo. Four long months of hoping she can come home soon,” he replied taking another swig of beer out of the mug. “The most depressing thing of all is that almost no one comes to the shows anymore. I’m a terrible in-term captain.” He looked down depressingly at the floor.

She rested a hand on Soarin’s shoulder, “No, you’re not terrible, you’re a great captain. We’re all going through a tough time. In all fairness we haven’t come up with any new maneuvers that really draw the crowd in. As soon as we do that then they’ll come back.”

“Do you think we should hire a new team member?” Soarin asked.

“You’re the captain and that’s your decision,” Echo replied as she took a sip of her own drink. “HOWEVER, in my own personal opinion we probably should.”

“Why should we? We already have all the people we need.”

“Let’s think about this for a moment,” Echo said. “Captain Spits was the face of our group, she was the reason why many of our candidates sign up whether it be from the sex appeal she had in those pictures, or from many young girls looking up to her as a role model. We NEED someone like that again.”

“We could have you as our spokesperson,” Soarin said with a straight face.

“Pfft me? You know I have a hard enough time trying to get in front of a guy I have a crush on, but a room full of hormone crazed boys and gals? No way José,” Echo retorted. “Soarin, I mean, Captain.”

“Echo, you know you can call me by my name while we’re off duty.”

“Sorry,” she said as she cleared her throat. “Soarin, what we need is a new ‘face.’ Someone that will appeal to the boys’ hormone filled brains and to the girls’ sense of empowerment. Someone who's also good with people.”

“Who do you have in mind?” Soarin asked draining the rest of his drink.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow when we’re not boozed up. We don’t want to make a rash decision after all, but I have a few in mind,” she said. They sat there for a while. “So have you heard about the Cap’s new husband?” Soarin was in the middle of a drink and did an immediate spit take. “I’ll take that as a no,” Echo said as she brushed off some beer foam from her arm.

“SHE GOT MARRIED!?!” he yelled, which drew the attention of the rest of the club.

“Yes she did, now would you calm down?” Soarin nodded and Echo continued. “Well it’s not like he’s a bad choice either. Apparently the Cap’s parents got to talk to her after she got out of the hospital. And before you ask, yes she is ok. They said that ‘he looks like a charming young man and a looker,’ or something along those lines. They never said what he did for a living though.”

***

Meanwhile…

“*Achoo!* Hey Spits, you know when you said that you could feel that someone was talking about you?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she replied raising her eye from the scope of the rifle. “What of it?”

“Because I think someone’s talking about me right now,” I replied as I looked down my spotter’s scope. “You’re high and to the left.”

***

“So she’s happy?” Soarin asked with a saddened tone.

“Her parents seem to think that she is.”

“Well there goes my dreams,” he said taking a long drink.

“What dream was that?” Echo asked getting real close to him, expecting that he would tell her his secret.

“Nevermind,” he replied solemnly. Echo waved down the bartender and got themselves another drink.

She raised her glass, “Here’s to the Cap, may she find happiness wherever she is.” They clinked glasses together.

“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered taking another large drink.

***

Area 51

“So what do you want to do now?” Spitfire asked as we walked back from the range.

“I dunno, just watch the planes take off and land I guess. Do you think they have a couple of lawn chairs lying around?” I asked. We found a few chairs and sat down. We watched the new experimental planes take off and land. Something I always liked to do when my grandpa would take my down to Luke and wait for my grandmother to finish her art lesson at the base.

We had stopped in the cafeteria for lunch, simple enough. Then we went over to the range where a few Marine Scout Snipers were waiting to be shipped out, so we got a few pointers on how to be more accurate in our shooting. It wasn’t like we were going to be snipers anyway, but it was nice of them to do that. Eventually they left and we were the only ones on the range. We went for a few rounds of HORSE, mainly setting up targets and shooting them at various ranges, and now here we are. Watching planes.

“There is something else we can do,” I said.

“And what would that be?” Spits asked.

I sat up, “Well there’s these flight sims that we can ‘fly’ around for hours in.”

“That sounds like fun, plus if whatever supposed to happen kicks in we don’t have to worry about you crashing in a ball of fire,” she joked darkly.

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence there, Spits,” I said dripping with sarcasm.

***

Later…

“Andrew you beat me the first round, but now you’re going down,” Spitfire said.

“I’d like to see you try,” I countered with a smirk.

The sim started back up again as we went into another dogfight. She started behind me this time. We were both flying simulated F-22’s, so at least we would be equal in terms of hardware. She tried to get a missile lock on me. I sped up to Mach 2 before immediately cutting the engine watching her fly right past me. I swapped over to the guns and landed one or two hits before she peeled off and got out of my line of fire. I swapped over to the sidewinders. As I followed her I got the lock tone.

But as I got ready to pull the trigger my vision started blurring. “Hey Spits, something’s not right,” I said over the radio. She barrel rolled over behind me and shot my simulated plane down. The screens darkened and the cockpits opened. I tried to climb out but I fell over on the ground.

Spits ran over, “Oh my Cele- God! Andrew are you ok?” she asked.

“Ugh, my head is killing me,” I replied as I held my head and tried to rub my temples with one hand. To be honest, it’s not working all too well.

“Andrew we should probably get back to the lab,” she said getting me up. “Someone give me a hand,” she said and one of the flight instructors came over and helped me, along with Spits, back to the lab. Once we got back they set me on a table and one of the doctors came over.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“We think that the treatment that he was given earlier today has kicked in,” Spits said to the lady. She turned to me, “Andrew, tell me what’s going on.”

I winced at her voice, everything was getting louder by the minute, “A headache, a massive headache. Making it… hard to… think straight,” I tried to say as I winced at my own voice. “It feels like someone’s putting nails to a chalkboard in my head,” I groaned.

“Is there anything we can do?” Spits asked in a panicked voice.

The doctor thought for a moment, “We could give him some low level pain killers.”

“Please and thank you!” I yelled. They prepared an IV line and put in some pain killer, I have no idea what it was, but it slipped in my veins like liquid ice, and felt wonderful. The sharp piercing headache went down to a dull throbbing a few minutes later. “Much better,” I said a lot calmer now.

“Andrew have you felt anything else?” Spits asked.

“I dunno, maybe something around the scapula area. That’s a funny word, scapula. Hehe.” Wow this stuff kicks in fast. “My hand looks all funny.”

Spitfire had to stifle a chuckle and the doctor rolled her eyes, “Well that’s because you’re drugged up, remember?” she asked.

“Oh right.” I’m starting to lose my higher cognitive thinking. Oh well, not much I can do about it anyway.

“The professor did say that you’d start off with a headache, next is either worse headaches or pain in your shoulder blades and your skin splitting for when if you have wings when they erupt.” Spits looked back at me and saw that I was keeping myself amused by flexing my fingers, “A-and you’re not listening are you?”

“What?”

“That’s what I thought,” she said as she rolled her eyes.

“I think I’m going to take a nap,” I said as my eyes started to slowly close. Shortly after they closed my mind slowly drifted away to sleep.

***

“Vat is happening to Herr Briggs?” the German scientist asked as he walked in the room.

“I don’t know,” Spitfire replied. “Andrew said that his vision started getting blurry before a headache that felt like ‘nails on a chalkboard’ in his head. Right now he’s sleeping after some mild pain killers finally kicked in.”

“Did he mention anything else?” the scientist asked with a raised eyebrow.

“He said that he was starting to feel some pain in his shoulder blades.”

“Ah I know vats going on here,” he said as he brought up an MRI of a random brain. He pulled out a laser pointer and shined it on the scan. “As you can see here zis is a normal brain, happy as can be.” He then shined it over to another scan, “Zis is a brain where ze new nerves are being created in ze brain to eventually control ze new addition, in zis case vings. That is vat’s causing his headaches.” He turned off the monitor and started stroking his beard in contemplation, “But vat you’ve said has concerned me, ze headaches should be minor, nothing like you’ve described.”

“What does it mean, doc?” Spits asked with concern.

“I have no idea. I’ll have to get back to you,” he said as he left the room in a hurry.

Spitfire took a seat next to the bed. She placed her elbows on her thighs and folded her hands as she rested her head on them. ‘Please Andrew, please be fine,’ she thought.

***

I slowly awakened with a very foggy brain. Damn, how much of that pain killer stuff did they give me? I tried to sit up, but found that I could not, mainly because I was lying on my stomach. Why the hell was I lying down on my stomach if I fell asleep on my back? I tried to get up, but when I tried this time I was still unable to do so.

“Umm, hello? Anyone here?” I asked. No one answered right away. The room was dark and I could hear a heart monitor. What the hell happened? “Hello?” I added a sing-songy tone for the hell of it.

I heard someone stirring, “Andrew? Are you awake?” It was Spits.

“No I’m a figment of your imagination,” I sarcastically said. “Of course I’m awake. Can you remove this strap that’s keeping me like this?” I asked. She reached down and unbuckled the straps on my back and legs. “Much better,” I said starting to stretch my extremities. “So what happened to make you guys tie me up like that? It’s only been one night, right?”

She looked really sad all of a sudden, “You were out for one week,” she said sounding really worried.

“Say what now?” I asked with a look one would give a drunk person asking for another drink. You know the kind. Raised eyebrow on the dominant eye, head cocked slightly towards the dominant hand, and a facial expression that says ‘are you shitting me?’

“Here, let me get the lights,” she said as she used the dimmer switch to give the room more light. I winced at the brightness for a moment before my eyes adjusted.

“Why was I out for one week?” I asked as I found a glass of water and took a drink.

She didn’t say anything for a moment. “You were in pain, so much that they decided to sedate you while the changes finished.” She went over to the blinds and raised them up before opening the window. It was about 6am by the positioning of the sun for this time of year. “You were thrashing about and screaming in pain. Eventually we strapped you down to keep you from hurting yourself and kept you sedated until the treatment was completed.”

“Wait, if I was in so much pain, wouldn’t have I remembered it?” I asked scratching my head.

“I forgot who it was but they went down to the R&D department and grabbed a truth serum cocktail which sixty seconds after injection causes temporary short term memory loss for several hours.”

“Then the sedatives kicked in and here we are. Well that explains everything.” At least that’s one trauma I won’t have to deal with any time soon. “So… what’d I get?” I asked like a kid on Christmas.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m just glad you’re ok,” she replied. She stood up and come over to me and gave me a kiss. It was one that didn’t last as long as a New Year’s kiss, but longer than a peck. Honestly it felt really nice. The next thing I heard was a *pompf*, “That should give you your answer,” she said with a smirk. The thing that surprised me is that Spitfire’s wings weren’t out at all.

“Wait… if that wasn’t you, then who was-?” I said as I slowly turned my head to the right. In the corner of my eye I saw a wing, a jet black wing with black as night feathers. I quickly whipped my head over and looked to my left, I saw another wing. “Woah. That shit works, doesn’t it?” I look at my newly discovered wings, they were still splayed out, “So uh, how do I get these stowed away?”

“Think of them as another set of arms,” Spits said waiting for me to figure it out. Ok so if they’re another set of arms then… I looked at one of the wing tips and thought about flexing it like my index finger. To my pleasant surprise it moved. Ok that worked, so let’s try this… I then thought about folding my wings. They slowly moved until I could feel their feathery warmth on my back. “There you go,” Spits said as she threw a shirt to me. The shirt from my uniform.

As I put it on I could feel the soft cotton touch the new nerves and it sent shivers down my spine, I can see why Spits would have been a little sensitive now when I touched them a little roughly a few months ago back when I first met her. When I had finished getting dressed, which brings up another question of why, but to an extent I don’t want to know, a doctor came in. In her hands was a medical chart.

“So how are you feeling, lieutenant?” she asked.

“Like I just woke up from a nap,” I replied.

“Please take off your shirt please.” I complied, the only thing left on my upper body were my dogtags. “Please extend your wings,” she requested, though her tone was more demanding more than anything else. I unfurled them and felt as she poked and prodded them in various spots. Yeah these new nerve endings aren’t helping at all. As she kept messing with my wings shivers were sent down my spine and my cheeks started getting a little red.

I could see Spits trying to hide a laugh, “Yeah yeah, laugh it up,” I muttered.

“What was that?” the doctor asked.

“Nothing. Are you almost done?” I asked.

“Just about,” she said as she poked one of the joints. She finished writing some stuff down on a clipboard. “I’m all done here, you can leave any time you’re ready.” She left the room in a bit of a hurry.

“Well that was… interesting,” I commented as I put on my shirt again, followed by my jacket, the shirt again causing a few chills to run down my spine. I walked out of the infirmary, Spits in tow. As we walked outside Spits turned to me.

“So do you want to learn how to use those, or not?” she asked with a grin. How come I have a bad feeling about this right now?

***

Hernandez’s office

Hernandez looked out the window with his hands held behind his back. He saw Andrew trying to figure out his new wings and Spitfire was trying to teach him. “What are the results doctor?” he asked the German scientist.

“Vell Colonel, zey are güt. However I do have concerns about the length of ze transformation process and-” he read off of his clipboard. “Ze pain troubles me ze most though,” he said wincing at the memory of Andrew screaming in pain.

“Send the current serum formula down to R&D and tell them to see if they can’t find a way to mess with the pain receptors as well as maybe implement more nanites into the formula to speed up the process.”

“Ja, it vill be done colonel,” he said as he looked down at his clipboard again. “And vat about Subject Delta?”

“Subject Delta,” he heavily emphasized ‘subject,’ “will be in cryogenic storage until further notice,” he said taking a drink from the glass of scotch on his desk. “You know what’ll happen if he is let free to roam about.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Is there anything else?”

“Vell sir there is one thing,” the scientist mentioned. “I have a theory about ze compatibility of ze gene therapy.”

“Well?” Hernandez asked. The scientist came over and whispered something in his ear and the colonel’s eyes widened, “Is that even legal?” he asked as the scientist pulled away.

“If ve convince them it’s just a genetic mutation they’ll accept it and ze experiment vill continue.”

Hernandez sat down and thought about it, “If we make it safe enough to meet safety standards you may proceed with the experiment.”

***

One day ago - Canterlot

In a little vault built off the side of the castle’s private hearing chambers Twilight and friends placed a multi-keyholed box inside. The vault was closed and sealed.

“Now that that’s done we can have a party!” Pinkie said with gusto. Out of nowhere she pulled out her party cannon and fired it. When the confetti stopped falling there was a ‘The Princesses are safe now let’s have a party’ banner as well with other party paraphernalia.

“You guys go ahead, I have a letter to write,” Twilight said leaving the room. ‘And a new plan to get Spitfire home,’ she thought to herself. She walked to her room and closed the door with her magic before sitting down at her desk, cluttered with months of research and data. She pulled out a clean sheet of paper, a pen, and ink. She thought of the words she was going to have to write. She took a deep breath before dipping the pen into the ink and placing it on the paper she wrote.

Dear Warhawk and Blue Chord,

I regret to inform you that getting your daughter back will take longer than we originally discussed a few months ago. It has to do with the phenomena that happened yesterday-

Author's Note

If you caught the Portal/Portal 2 reference in the title there I congratulate you.
I sort of hint at Echo Fleetfoot’s crush on Big Mac in the expanded universe comic, primarily the FiM #9 comic.
I sort of threw in a little salute to the Soarin x Spitfire shippers there. I have nothing against you guys, but it would be wrong of me not to make a little nod to you guys and gals.
Who is "Subject Delta?" Well you'll have to stay tuned to find out.
So for Spitfire’s parents I chose Warhawk and Blue Chord. Warhawk is named after the P-40 Warhawk, a Second World War plane used by the US. I sort of got the idea when I was watching some special on Military History about the 300 Spartans or something and a preview for the show Dogfights came on. Blue Chord was from a random pony name generator, I wasn’t that creative with her.
A slight apology on the delay on this one guys, I seriously blame Skyrim for this one for two reasons. 1) It’s addictive and you lose yourself in it. 2) My hardware kept crashing for no reason (though I’m betting it was my controller I was trying to use with it, which would make sense because before I used it I was able to go for hours, but after I connected it I’ve been only able to go for a good hour or so before a loading crash happens. Weird, right?).
A little patch of good news (or bad news depending on how you look at it): starting on the 13th of January (of 2014) I’m supposed to be starting a new job. It’s good money with good hours and awesome benefits so the length of time between chapters may increase, but the quality of the chapters will not decrease, I will promise you that right away.
Otherwise the normal stuff, call me out on anything that I misspelled or grammatically botched go ahead and call me out on it and I'll fix it ASAP.

Patch Notes

(5/16/14)
Ranking: As pointed out by totallynotabrony, Spitfire technically outranks Andrew. Why do I say "technically?" Well since Spitfire is listed as a "private contractor" instead of a captain in the Air Force, her rank isn't recognized by "our" government, at least not officially. Within the confines of the base? Yes. Outside? Nope.

Chapter 15: Learning to Fly with Bad News

A/N: After the last chapter I made a decision to change the way that the chapter header appears inside each page. It's only a cosmetic change, so there's nothing really to worry about.

A/N as of 1/19/(20)14: I made a mistake when calculating the days during the "process" in order to line up with the most recent chapter release (chapter 17). My mistake. It happens when someone (me) doesn't get enough sleep.

Chapter 15: Learning to Fly with Bad News

October 27 – Twilight’s Room, 5am

And that’s why we can’t get your daughter back as soon as we originally thought. Please do know that we are looking down every avenue possible to bring her back home. I will get her back, that I promise you. I’m so sorry that I can’t bring her back sooner.
Sincerely,
Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Magic

Twilight looked down at the fifteenth iteration of the letter she was going to send to Spitfire’s parents. She had poured her utmost sincerity into that letter. ‘I know I’m a perfectionist, but you can’t perfect sincerity,’ she thought as she found the address to her parents’ house. She wrote the castle’s address and Spitfire’s parents’ address. She picked up her phone and dialed the guard captain’s quarters.

“Captain Chrome Arrow speaking,” the guard captain said sleepily over the phone.

“Captain this is Twilight Sparkle, please send Private Sentry to my quarters,” she replied.

“Of course Princess, he’ll be there soon,” he said before hanging up.

A few minutes later a knock came on Twilight’s door. She walked over and opened it in standing at attention was a sleepy looking, yet professionally dressed Flash Sentry, “You needed me, Princess?”

“Yes I need you to take this to the address on the letter. Please deliver it post-haste,” she answered handing over the letter. He put it inside the breastplate of his armor.

“Is there anything else you needed me for?”

“That is all, you’re dismissed.” Flash gave her a quick salute before walking away. Twilight closed to door and sat back down at her desk. ‘Now to figure out another power source,’ she thought as she looked over notes on the power requirements. Even being as smart as she is these numbers were even giving her a headache. “Maybe I should check in on Spitfire and Andrew,” she said to no one in particular. “Plus she needs to know what’s going on.”

***

Mojave Desert (Literally the middle of nowhere), 7am

“Come on Andrew, it’s not that hard,” Spitfire said hovering a good twenty feet above me. She was wearing running shorts and a sports bra, allowing her wings free movement.

“Says the one who’s been flying her entire life,” I counter crossing my arms. I was wearing one of my old shirts in the back of which I slashed two straight holes for my wings to fold out of, and retract through. And people call me crazy for always carrying a knife.

“Oh come on, it’s not THAT hard. I mean yesterday you were watching birds take off and fly on the internet as well was watching a video on the physics of flight. You have all the knowledge, all you have to do is apply it.”

“Now you sound like my high school counselor, except he was less hot.” Spits gave me a ‘really?’ look. “What? It’s true, the guy was as ugly as fuck.”

She shook her head trying to clear out that image and landed. “Anyway just do as I do,” said before making a strong wing-stroke to take off while bending her knees to jump. As her wings reached the down stroke and plume of air rushed away from her she jumped while flapping harder to get more altitude before hovering about the same height as she was before. I looked at her with disbelief, “Come on, you’ll be fine. Plus I’ll catch you if you start failing, I wasn’t named Captain of the Wonderbolts for not being speedy,” she said that last part with a smug grin.

“Fine… But you’d better catch me!” I yelled while pointing at her.

“Would you expect any less from your wife?” she said still grinning.

“I guess, but I don’t remember ‘Elvis’ saying anything about catching your spouse from freefalling while flying.”

“Well then I shouldn’t have to catch you then,” Spits said turning her head in a defiant motion and closed her eyes. She opened one and looked at me before looking away quickly and closed it again. She was being playful again, I think. She turned back to me and was still a little miffed that I was still on the ground, “Well are you coming up or not?”

I sighed, it looks like I’m not going to get out of this one. But I want to fly now, it’s like it’s hardwired into my brain. Every time I’ve thought of flight a little itch starts in the back of my brain and my wings start to twitch. It’s like an addictive substance. I spread my wings in a stance like Spits had before bending my knees. Taking a deep breath I flapped downwards and jumped as high as I could. But let’s be honest, white guys can’t jump.

“Come on Andrew, you can do it!” Spits yelled in encouragement. I flapped harder and I felt as though I was launched into the air. “Yeah! Just like that!” I sped right past her and was heading straight up towards the sky. “Ok not like that,” she commented before following me. “Andrew slow down!”

“How?!?” I shouted back. I was still ascending faster still. I couldn’t stop flapping or I’d fall to my death. Call it fight or flight, wow that’s pun filled. I punched through a cloud, but instead of passing right through it I felt some resistance. As a reached the top of the cloud I exhausted myself and my wings just failed to catch any more air. I started freefalling and I fell right on a cloud, but I didn’t fall through like I thought I would. In fact I was lying on it, like I would on a bed. And to be honest it is the comfiest thing I’ve ever laid on. I can see why Spits speaks so highly of relaxing on them.

“Andrew, where are you?” Spitfire shouted as she burst out from the cloud a few feet away from me, looking around frantically.

“I’m over *pant* here,” I said waving my hand. She turned around and saw my exhausted body lying on the fluffy water vapor.

She came over and embraced me, “Oh thank Celestia you’re ok. Why didn’t you stop?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I didn’t want to fall but I don’t know how to hover like that.”

“You know I would have caught you, right?” she asked taking a seat next to me, making sure to avoid sitting on my, as of last night, preened wings. You'd be surprised how sensitive each one of those little mofos are.

“Yeah I know,” I sighed. “My brain though turned off all rational thought.”

We sat there for a bit, “You know you were pretty fast though, we’ve got to be what? 16,000 feet up?” She looked down off the side of the cloud, “Yeah that seems about right.” She did some mental math. “That’s roughly 180 miles per hour, not bad for a newbie.”

“Thanks, I think,” I replied. “Hey one thing’s been bugging me, why aren’t we freezing to death or asphyxiating at this altitude?”

“Well angels have a passive magic that creates a small barrier of heated air that keeps us warm for a time at these higher altitudes,” she said as she poked my bare forearm. I felt that her finger was indeed warm. “As for the breathing your lungs are able to get more oxygen out of this thin air. Even some of our best scientists aren’t quite sure how, but we can and we accept it. However at altitudes of over 20,000 feet we need oxygen tanks or pressurized planes to travel.”

“Well that makes sense,” I replied as I relaxed a bit. Then something hit me, “Uhh… shouldn’t we be a little worried about planes flying?” And almost as if on cue a Boeing 747 breached the clouds behind us and flew less than a few dozen feet above our heads.

***

Meanwhile inside the plane...

The young girl looked out the window and her eyes widened. "Mommy, mommy!" the girl yelled. "Those two people out there are standing on the clouds!"

The mother looked at her daughter angrily, "What did I tell you about being stupid? You don't get a birthday this year," she said as she turned away.

***

“Yeah let’s get out of here,” Spits said getting up in a hurry.

I stood up just as quickly and stood at the edge, “So uhh… how do you land?” I asked nervously.

“Do exactly what you did but in reverse, do one big stroke and crouch your legs when you’re about to touch the ground,” she said as she stepped off the ledge.

“Great- this can’t end well,” I said as I too followed suit.

***

Langley, Virginia

“You know why you’re here, correct?” the black suit clad man asked seated at his desk.

“Yes Director, I am to investigate the incident out West that happened last week,” the agent replied with little to no emotion.

“What exactly, Agent Finley?”

“To investigate what happened with the project listed as ‘Angel’ and to make sure the other projects in the facility have not been further compromised by any foreign intelligence agents.”

“And if you find a foreign agent?”

“Attempt to capture, if not then I am to terminate him or her with extreme prejudice,” he replied, again with no emotion.

“Good, your flight leaves in twenty minutes,” the director said handing over a file folder. Inside were files pertaining to the investigation, all were marked with the label ‘Top secret, eyes only.’ As the spy left the room the director picked up the phone, “Get me Colonel Hernandez, base commander of Area 51.”

***

Briggs Residence

Spitfire helped me back inside the house after driving back from the middle of nowhere. Yeah my first landing didn’t go so well and fucked up my ankle. “Well that could have gone better,” I said as I plopped down into my recliner and pulled the release that allowed the footrest to spring up.

Spits walked back from the kitchen holding a bag of frozen peas. “Well it also could have gone worse,” she countered as she handed me the bag. I placed it on my ankle, the feeling of heat being stolen away by the frozen vegetables was nice. “You could have died, so that’s a upside,” she said as she took a seat in the chair next to mine.

“Hey can you grab the ankle wrap from under the sink,” I asked as I shifted slightly. Sitting with wings is a little different. “I want to get this wrapped up soon.” She left and a minute later was back with the wrap.

“Here let me wrap it for you, just let me know if it’s a little too tight,” she said as she moved the peas aside and started wrapping what I hope is just a twisted ankle.

“So what was your worst flying injury?” I asked.

She thought for a moment, “I once broke one of the bones in my wing after a crash landing practicing a new maneuver we were working on for a show. With magic assisted healing I was back flying in a week,” she said as she finished wrapping the ankle.

“What I wouldn’t give for a little ‘magic’ right now,” I said with a bit of sarcasm as I placed my impromptu ice pack back on my ankle. I picked up the remote and turned on the TV. “You want to watch something or should I pick?” I asked going into the DVR.

“We could watch some Archer, we’re on the tail end of season three, right?” she asked while getting herself comfortably seated.

“Sounds about right.” I started the episode we were currently on and soon the room was filled with our outrageous laughter. When one episode ended I started the next one. Hours were tastefully wasted as we watched the comical spy go on his misadventures. When we reached the end of season three I tried to stand up. As I tried to put a little weight on it I winced from the small spike of pain shooting up my spine.

“Sit down, you don’t want to make it worse,” Spits said as she pushed me back down into my chair and walked back into the kitchen for another ice pack.

“Yes, Florence Nightingale,” I said while rolling my eyes.

She came back in and put the ice pack under my ankle, “So other than landing horribly, how was your first flight?” she asked as she took her own seat.

I closed my eyes as I thought back to what I felt. Absolute freedom with nothing restraining me. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. I guess I just need more practice I guess,” I replied while shrugging. I winced as I felt a small jolt of pain from my ankle as a tried to move it, “Especially with the landings.”

“Spitfire are you there?” an ethereal voice said, we automatically recognized the voice belonging to Twilight. “Hello?”

“Princess Twilight?” Spits replied. “I thought you were going to try to talk to us next week sometime?” the confusion evident in her voice.

“I have to tell you guys something, I have some bad news,” she said before pausing. “It’s going to take a while longer before we can get you back home,” Twilight said with a pang of guilt.

“What do you mean?” I asked. She then proceeded to tell us about how both princesses disappeared for over a full day due to these black vines powered by ‘chaos mana,’ whatever that is. And in order to prevent the ‘Tree of Harmony’ from wilting to death they had to give it back the Elements, the same that were being used to power the eventual spell that would open the portal for Spits to go home, to kill off the vines and restore order.

“I’m sorry Spitfire, I really am,” Twilight again apologized, the sincerity of her words were true.

“It’s ok Princess, there’s a saying here: ‘The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,’” Spits replied.

“Or the needs of the one,” I added. I feel as though I just quoted the ending achievements for Fable II.

“Listen I have to go now, I have to conserve as much power as possible for the future to give you more updates. We haven’t given up yet,” Twilight said as her voice dissipated.

“Now what?” Spits asked.

“We keep the status quo,” I replied hopping over to her on one leg. I sat down and put my arm around her, “They’ll keep us in the loop and eventually you’ll be able to go home.” She snuggled into me, like we would when we go to sleep for the night, but she was crying. As she did I rubbed her arm in an attempt to comfort her. I just hope that this doesn’t become some sort of hopeless venture, for her sake.

Author's Note

Yes the infamous Flash Sentry has made an appearance in the chapter, right now he is a glorified mailman, but we'll see if that develops into something different or not.
According to Wikipedia the lowest height for cumulous clouds to form is about 16,000 feet over a temperate zone, which most of the US is.
I converted those numbers thanks to google, hurray.
The plane scene? Inspired by this scene from Robot Chicken.
Agent Finley will be a character that will appear in a few more chapters, hence he gets a name.
As of this chapter I'm putting the season four story in and will be using that as a guideline for future chapters, just as soon as I catch up on all the episodes that is.
And yes there are three ending achievements for Fable II. They are "The needs of the many," "The needs of the few," and "The needs of the one." All are for choosing either to resurrect all who died to rebuild the tower but your spouse/family and dog remain dead, to resurrect your spouse/family and dog but the people who built the tower are dead, and of course the last one is that you get a shit-ton of money and everyone remains dead.
A bit of a shorter chapter everyone (considering the last three have been 4k+ words each), but sometimes that happens, right? Who am I kidding, new job jitters and all. I just wanted to get a good chapter out before my time is (usefully) consumed by making money.
If I missed anything go ahead and call me out on it in a PM or comment and I'll fix the error ASAP. You guys know the drill.

Chapter 16: Secret Agent Man*

Chapter 16: Secret Agent Man*

Chapter 16: Secret Agent Man

October 27 – Late Afternoon, Area 51

The black suited man walked down the stairs of the private jet, file folder inside of a briefcase in hand. His concealed Glock 22 .40S&W in his holster under his suit coat pressing against his chest. While he walked he could feel his second pistol, a Walther PPQ M2 9mm, behind his back right above his belt rubbing against his spine. He also felt his KBAR combat knife sheath hidden in his boot as he continued towards two guards. ‘You can’t be too prepared,’ he thought to himself.

“Agent Finley?” one asked. “Please come with us,” they politely asked. They led him inside the office section of the base. The boots *clicked* and *clacked* against the freshly waxed floor as they walked down several corridors. They reached the office with the name plaque on the door saying ‘Colonel James Hernandez.’ The two guards stopped suddenly and the spy turned around to look at them before turning back around to knock on the door.

“Come in,” was the response from the other side. The spy walked in. “Agent Finley,” the colonel said as he turned around to meet the spy’s eyes. “Your boss called to say you were coming. Please, have a seat,” he said gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. The spy took a seat, “So you’re here to investigate the incident involving Subject Delta, correct?” he said as he took a seat himself.

“Yes colonel, the Joint Chiefs are not shocked that such a thing happened, but the Director isn’t convinced. He thinks that the Chinese, North Koreans, Iranians, or another foreign agency have an agent that sabotaged the formula used on poor-” he trailed as he looked at the patient file, “Private David Barnes.” He set the file back in the briefcase. “I do assume that you’ll be giving us your complete cooperation?”

“Of course, Agent Finley. If it’s in the interests of national security and the future of this project, you will have the complete cooperation of all personnel.”

“Good,” Finley replied including one of his rare smiles. Spies by nature are natural actors. “I will need to interview all personnel involved on the project, including those who caught word of it.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll start the recall of all persons off base immediately,” Hernandez said as he started to dial a number on his phone.

“Good. Start sending them to the conference room one at a time, I might as well start with those who are here,” the spy said as he stood up and exited the office.

***

Meanwhile at the Briggs residence…

Spitfire had been clinging to me for the last two hours crying, and honestly I don’t blame her. She’s trapped indefinitely on another world with me as her only source of comfort. Her tears had soaked the entire right side of my shirt I was wearing, until her tear ducts ran dry that is. She remained sobbing until she had fallen asleep clinging to me. She had been out for a good hour or two before I looked at the clock. It was about time for me to get ready for work, I told my boss that I’d be able to come in tonight. I gently set Spits down on the couch as I stood up and covered her with a blanket that I kept on the couch in case either of us got cold. I quickly showered before getting into my work attire. Wings are annoying to hide, I sort of feel guilty of giving Spits a hard time about it. Well I was always playful about it though.

I looked back into the living room and Spits was still sleeping as peaceful as she could, all things considering. I grabbed my leather jacket before heading out to the garage and getting on my motorcycle. The drive to work was uneventful. There was a high-speed chase that I got to see at an intersection. It was interesting, that’s for sure. Who am I kidding, it was a car and three squad cars chasing it. Nothing special about it at all. I got to work as soon as I got inside the bar.

“So where did you go off to?” my co-worker asked.

“I was in the hospital. Car crash,” I replied without looking at her while I started washing out a pint glass.

She laughed, “Well you look pretty good for a guy who was in a car accident big enough to put him in the hospital for a week.”

“Yeah, car crash,” I echoed. If only she knew. I cleaned another glass as a customer sat down in my section of the bar. I looked up and saw that said customer was wearing marine fatigues. “Welcome to the Shadow of Vegas, what can I get you, soldier?”

“A High Life,” he answered. I poured the beer from the tap before giving it to him. He handed me the cash. As I put it in the cash drawer I saw a piece of paper also mixed in with the bills.

On it said, ‘Come to the base immediately, bring Sam. –Colonel H.’ I quickly threw it away in the trash bin under the register. Great, sounds like I have to make a late night run to the base again. I went through the kitchen and left, well I left a note saying that family emergency that needed to be taken care of. I wonder how much longer my boss will put up with me before he just up and fires me.

I arrived home and I saw Spits on the couch with an entire quart of ice cream while watching, of all things, The Terminator, the blanket that was wrapped around her from before was draped around her like a jacket. “Oh hey, why are you back so early?” she asked with a slightly happier demeanor.

“We’ve been called back to base. Apparently it’s an emergency,” I said grabbing her shoes and coat.

“Well what could be that important?” she said while shrugging off the blanket and putting the ice cream back in the freezer.

“Well it was important enough for the good colonel to do a dead drop message on me,” I replied as I gave Spits her coat and shoes.

She started putting on her shoes, “A dead drop, you mean like-?”

“Yeah like spies,” I replied as she put on her coat. “I’m going to be honest, I don’t like this one bit.”

***

A few hours later in Area 51…

We had been sitting out here in this glorified waiting room for a good 3 hours. One of the team that worked on that gene splicing project went in, and then came out later looking either relieved or terrified. Whoever was doing these ‘interviews’ must be something else.

***

Meanwhile…

Agent Finley looked at the scientist across the table. Time slowed down to a standstill. Within the blink of an eye he knew everything about this guy based on his body language and how to approach him. He was a pushy scientist that got everything he wanted. “Hey buddy, why am I even in here?” the scientist asked with annoyance seeped into every word.

‘I definitely know how to approach him,’ Finley thought to himself. “Dr. Grimwald, do you know who I am?” he asked slamming down the file folder.

“No and why should I?” Gimwald said crossing his arms in an attempt to show how annoyed he was.

“I am the guy that Washington sends to clean up the messes people like you make out of either incompetence or ignorance. So which one was it? Incompetence or ignorance?” he asked rhetorically. “So what happened last week, with Pvt. Barnes?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a little shakiness in his voice. “All I know is that the specimen to be injected as inspected for purity before injection a few hours later. There were no anomalies detected.”

“Well the fact still remains that poor Barnes is on ice until further notice, so what could have happened?”

Grimwald thought for a second, “Well someone could have swapped out the vial used on the private with one with corrupted genomes.”

“Who would have had access to that?”

“Well me, the colonel, the source itself, and any technician working on the sequencing.”

“You said the source, you mean Subject Zero aka Samantha Briggs, wife of Lt. Briggs aka Subject Alpha?” Finley asked. “Now how would she be involved if her husband turned out just fine?”

“Well one of the technicians may have read the genome upside down or something from her base DNA that was given to us.”

Finley turned his head towards the one-way mirror, “You got that?” There was a single knock from the window, meaning ‘yes.’ “Dr. Grimwald, that’ll be all. For now.” A soldier came in and escorted the doctor out, “Please send in Mrs. Briggs if you please, bring her husband too,” he said to the guard. ‘Now to see how this one goes,’ he thought taking a drink of water.

***

Back in the “waiting room”…

Another scientist came out back from the interview room, he looked quite shaken up, not stirred at all. I had a smug little grin on my face, I never did like that scientist guy, he was always a dick to everyone. Always telling you what to do and forcing his opinions on you, mainly the political ones. Yeah it sort of gets irritating after a while, you know? The only time I’ve been able to get him to shut up is by threatening to shoot him in the kneecap, which I have been close to doing for a while now.

“Mr. and Mrs. Briggs?” a guard said walking into the room. “He’ll see you now.”

“Well, here goes nothing,” Spits said as I helped her up from the chair. He led us into an impromptu interrogation room. Impromptu because I knew that this was the conference room and not some cell deep underground. Inside already was the black suited man. As we were sitting down I could see something in his eye, he was examining us. Well two can play at that game.

***

Agent Finley looked at the duo. ‘She has an air of confidence and authority, but an undertone of recent mental trauma.’ He looked at the man across from him. ‘He definitely has some anger issues, and based on how he’s looking at her he’s overprotective of her.’

***

A/N: It is assumed that Andrew cannot hear what Agent Finley is thinking and neither can the other characters hear each other’s thoughts. I’m trying to save space so we don’t end up with a bunch of the previous paragraph: a section, a paragraph or line, section, etc. So this next section is a hybrid 1st/3rd person narrative. Andrew is still the guy telling the story (first person), everyone else is in the third person.

“Mr. and Mrs. Briggs my name is Chuck Finley, and to be honest I need your guys’ help,” he said sincerely. ‘She doesn’t need to be pushed around. Be friendly,’ he thought to himself while looking at Spitfire. “I’m one of the guys that the government calls in to take care of messes of a… classified nature.”

Wait a second. Shifty eyes, black suit, works for the government on classified things. He’s a spy, either CIA or DIA. “Do you know Private David Barnes?” he asked as he pulled out a photo of him and set it on the table.

“Sort of,” I replied. “We talked a few times in the cafeteria, but that’s about it.” I gave the picture back. “From what ‘airs’ he had I assumed he was a nice kid.”

“Well last week when you were out cold something happened to him, something not too pleasant.” He saw Spits look down in realization, “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you Mrs. Briggs?” he asked.

“I only heard the rumors about what happened,” she replied. ‘I really do not want to think about that,’ she thought to herself.

“I’m sorry, but I’m a little confused, WHAT happened while I was out?” I asked slightly irritated. I could definitely tell Spits was trying to hide something and that spy definitely knew what was going on.

He opened the file to a sheet of paper, from the looks of it an incident report. “At approximately 1300 hours local time on Wednesday the sixteenth Private David Barnes was injected with an experimental gene manipulation cocktail, however the results were not as they were supposed to be.”

“What do you mean by-?” I started to ask but was cut off.

“Let’s just say the results weren’t pretty to look at,” Finley replied. He pulled out another piece of paper, “Around the base there were power fluctuations which almost caused the fusion reactor under the base to critical. Experimental aircraft spontaneously combusted, gravity reversed itself multiple times a second in separate areas of the base, lightning struck multiple structures causing the metal to melt. After Barnes was sedated heavily he was put into cryogenic stasis.”

“And the air smelt like fudge,” Spitfire added. “But there wasn’t any fudge around.”

“All of that is pretty chaotic, but that last one is just weird,” I said while scratching my head. “So how does us talking to you help you in your investigation? You already know I was sedated for a week, what more can I tell you?”

“Simply by asking questions and seeing how the recipients react,” Finley replied. “Do you know what I used to be before the ‘company’ recruited me?” Spits and I both shook our heads, “I used to be a homicide detective with the NYPD and before that I was in the Marines.”

“And?”

“If there’s anyone who is going to figure it out, it’s going to be me.” He opened another folder, “So Lieutenant, officially you’re listed off the book as Samantha’s handler, yes?”

“Wait, what?” I asked in surprise.

“Yes, right here you’re listed not only as her handler, but her bodyguard.”

“What does that ‘handler’ part mean?” Spits asked with as much confusion as I had.

“In the spy world it would mean that you would report to him during an assignment for updates on the mission. In this instance however, I have no idea. Anyway,” he said trying to get the interview back on topic. “Samantha, may I call you Samantha? There was an odd red flag on your name that was hidden almost immediately, care to explain why?”

“Just how high is your clearance?” I asked cutting Spits off before she could speak, saying something that she shouldn't say.

“I know as much as the Director does on this little project you’re involved in.”

“Does that mean you know-?”

“Where she’s from? Yes. I would just rather hear it out of her mouth though,” he said with a smile. “Where were we, ah yes, the red flag being covered up. It seems as though you have some friends in high places in order to pull something like that off.” A phone started ringing. We looked all around us for the source, it was coming from the G-man himself. He picked it up, “Yes?” his expression shifted into one of shock. “When? Now? Where?” he responded to the other side of the line. “Yes sir, I’ll call you back.” He put the phone away, “Well it looks like we’re going to have to put this off until another time,” he said while walking out of the conference room.

“What was that all about?” Spits asked me as I helped her up.

“Whatever it was it seemed really important,” I replied as we walked out.

***

A/N: The bracketed dialogue is another language translated to English for the sake of some mystery and suspense of what nationality they are.

Unknown location at Area 51, a few minutes prior…

“[Yes sir, the formula that you have me was successful in causing an adverse reaction,]” the shadowy man said into his satellite phone.

“[And that adverse reaction?]” the deep baritone voice asked from the other end.

“[Genetic mutations far beyond what we could have ever dreamed. It should be in the report on the USB left at the dead drop.]”

“[Our local agent sent us word not too long ago that he had retrieved it, the data is being transferred as we speak.]”

“[I do have some troubling news though, they have a member of the CIA looking into the incident, and someone up top has a hunch that it was sabotaged.]”

“[It was sabotaged, in case you’ve forgotten,]” the man said condescendingly.

“[My orders, sir?]”

“[Keep your head down. If he finds you out kill him and find your way to the safe house for extraction, preferably with as much data and samples as you possibly can carry. In the meantime see if you can get a sample dead dropped once suspicions have dropped.]”

“[Of course sir, it will be done,]” he said before ending the call. He threw it into a metal barrel before also throwing a pack of thermite next to the phone. He lit a match and threw it into the barrel and watched it ignite. He quickly made his way back to the common area. He blended into a group of scientists heading to dinner. As he reached the common area he saw the spy hunting him going to the place he came from. For now he had made a clean escape.

***

Agent Finley looked at the smoldering mess in front of him. All of it was metal slag and plastic, plastic which he assumed was the satellite phone whose signal they detected leaving the facility.

“Sir,” a female soldier came up to him. “We’ve analyzed the chemical composition of the accelerant, it was thermite.”

“Is there any way to get anything out of that?” Finley asked with some hope.

The Tech Sargent sighed, “We’ll see what we can do, but I’m not going to promise anything. That thing's melted more than rock dipped in magma, it’ll be a miracle if anything survived that.” The woman walked back over to the slag.

“Are there any cameras looking over this area,” Finley asked another soldier.

“Sorry sir, but this area was scheduled for maintenance and the power was turned off as per OSHA safety standards. None of the cameras were on during the time of the signal’s discovery.”

‘Well this is a load of bullshit,’ he thought angrily to himself. ‘What is the director going to say when I tell him we missed the foreign agent?’ His phone started ringing. “Speak of the devil,” he muttered. “Director? I’ve got some bad news, we missed him.”

Author's Note

Applause for anyone who caught the "Secret Agent Man" song reference, you know who you are.
A slight James Bond reference there. Do you know the reason he has his drinks shaken and not stirred when it comes to his martinis? Because when you shake it, it dilutes the alcohol making it less potent and it would take more of them to get him drunk versus anyone else. I learned that little fact from Bar Rescue.
If that hybrid narrative comes out with a positive outlook I may use it more often in future chapters.
A slight Burn Notice reference in there with the name Chuck Finley, a favorite alias name of Sam Axe.
The DIA stands for the Defense Intelligence Agency, which does exist in real life alongside with the CIA.
The fudge comment sort of references Warehouse 13 where one of the signs they were to look for an artifact was the smell of fudge where there is no fudge.

Sorry this took a little longer to get out. I just started that job this last Monday and it's been pretty hectic figuring out schedules and stuff like that. I've also been going through some personal stuff like helping my girlfriend find housing and transportation should she want to relocate from her current housing situation. And trust me when I say it's only the beginning.
Enough of my personal troubles though. If I missed something go ahead and call me out of on it in a PM or comment and I'll fix it ASAP.

Patch Notes

(5/20/14)
Reactor: Yeah I can't think of another word or term to use, so suggest one if it really bothers you, otherwise I'm sticking to what I have here so far.
Thermite: That shit gets hot. And while a blow torch would do the job better, do you really think it would be easier to lug a packet of incendiary material or a whole welding cart?

Chapter 17: Nightmares on All Hallows Eve

A/N: I sort of missed Halloween by a few weeks when I created the story. So I figured that I would write a little Halloween filler chapter. There will be something important that’ll carry over into the other chapters at the end, but pretty much everything else is filler. I also colored this orange for Halloween. :)

Chapter 17: Nightmares on All Hallows Eve

October 30, Briggs Residence

Andrew was in the garage for the last few hours and it was pissing Spitfire off. There were telltale sounds of tools being used but every time that she had gone out to see what was making racket all she saw was Andrew reading a book and pretend like nothing was going on. Something was up and she was going to get to the bottom of it. Preferably soon though.

She went over to his computer and entered in his password for his account. She had figured it out a few months ago while he was a bit drunk one night. Logging in she opened his internet history. Porn site, ‘Eww,’ she thought while mentally cringing at one of the pages. ‘Well it makes sense in perverted way since we aren’t sleeping together,’ she rationalized trying to shrug it off. Further down, about four days ago according to the history’s log was a site called 'buycostumes.com.'

She clicked on the saved webpage and saw it directed her to a Halloween costume and decoration site. ‘Wait, Halloween was the one that was closely related the Nightmare Night, right?’ she asked herself. She looked at the subpages for the site that were visited. As she looked at each one, one theme started to click in her mind, ‘He’s setting up a haunted house?’

“I see you have discovered my plot,” came Andrew’s voice from behind her. “And do you know what I do to people who discover my plans?”

“No-” she replied nervously as she turned around.

“I force them to participate,” he said with a smile.

***

“So what have you been doing for the last few hours?” Spits asked me with a twinge of annoyance.

“Well Spits we are going to participate in the greatest of Halloween traditions: scaring the shit out of little kids,” I replied.

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Duh, because it’s fun.”

“I will never get that sense of humor of yours,” she sighed.

“Well it’s Halloween. Dia de los Muertos. All Hallows Eve. It’s a day to scare and be scared. It’s one of the few days you can get away with scaring kids, within certain parameters, and no one bats an eye.”

“Then what’s that?” she asked with a raised eyebrow while pointing towards a box.

“That, my dear, is my piece de resistance for this year,” I replied as I walked over and plugged it in to a wall outlet. A projector bulb came on and started projecting onto the wall.

“A projector, THAT’S your ‘grand piece’ for this year?” she asked with much skepticism.

“Not just a projector, a hologram projector,” I said while pressing a few buttons. A moment later the 3D image of a Skyrim draugr appeared. Another button press on my phone and it started moving, looking as intimidating as a preprogramed NPC could.

“That’s cool and all, but where did you get that?”

“I may or may not have ‘borrowed’ it from the R&D guys at the base for the night,” I replied trying to sound as innocent as possible. Though it didn’t help that I put air quotes around ‘borrowed.’

“So you stole it,” she deadpanned.

“No! I’m going to return it tomorrow, or when we go there next.”

***

Meanwhile…

“Hey Jenkins, where did you put the holoprojector?”

“No clue,” he said as he looked over at the desk it was supposed to be at. “Wait there’s a note here, ‘borrowed holoprojector, will return on Monday.’ Wait, what?”

***

“So do you have any other surprises?”

“Actually yes,” I replied. I turned off the projector and went back inside with Spits in tow. “Wait here,” I said before disappearing into our bedroom. I reached inside the closet and grabbed two costumes. “Here you go,” I said as I gave Spits a pure white dress with slits cut in the back.

“I don’t get it,” she deadpanned while looking at it.

“It’s your costume for tonight.”

“Why would I need a costume for tonight? And more importantly what is it supposed to be for?”

“Well how else are the kids supposed to get candy?”

“Well you can give it to them,” she shot back.

“Well I have something else in mind,” I replied with a smug grin. “Oh and it’s supposed to be an angel costume.”

She looked at the cut slits again. “O-o-o-oh,” she said in realization. “They’re for my wings, right.” She looked at mine, a black robe with a black hood and two wing slits also cut into the back of it. “So what are you going to be?”

“The Angel of Death, baby,” I said holding my arms out in pride.

“‘The Angel of Death?’” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You know, book of Exodus in the Bible. The tenth plague cast upon Egypt being the deaths of the firstborn son by the hands of God’s angel of death,” I explained.

“Wait, I thought angels in the Bible were supposed to be good guys?”

“Well ‘angel’ when translated from Hebrew means ‘messenger.’ So in other words he was the messenger of death.” I nodded.

“And this pertains to your costume how?” I leaned over to her ear and whispered my plan. Her eyes widened.

***

After sundown

The four tween children ran up to the door and I remained absolutely motionless, like the statue next to me. Under my hooded mask I smiled as I was about to spring my trap. I held onto a fake, but real looking scythe in my hand. They rang the doorbell.

“TRICK OR TREAT!” the yelled after Spits opened the door. She gave them a small handful each before retreating back inside. They started back down the sidewalk and just as they passed by me I let out an ominous pre-recorded laugh that was let loose through hidden speakers. And as soon as they passed me I jumped out and let out a psychopathic sounding yell with my jet black wings spread. The four screamed in fear as they ran down the driveway.

I had been doing it all night. Standing still then jumping out and scaring kids as they passed me. When standing still it helps when you’ve had practice in the Army standing at attention. Apparently the draugr was a big hit too as people tried to touch it only to be amazed as they phased right through it. Ah experimental technology, I love you. I let little kids have a pass, they don’t deserve to be scarred quite yet.

The next two hours passed by uneventfully before we ran out of candy. I walked inside and switched off the porch light and saw that Spits was probably just as tired as I was. I took off the cloak that my costume had and walked into the kitchen. Reaching into the fridge I pulled out two ice-cold beers. I sat myself down right next to Spits and gave her a beer.

“So,” I took a drink, “how was your first Halloween?”

“It was… interesting,” she replied as she took a drink of her own beer. “It just has so many similarities to Nightmare Night.”

“How so?” I asked as I let loose a semi-silent beer induced belch.

“Well back when I was a kid my mom, dad, and sister would go to our neighborhood’s Nightmare Night party. We’d get all dressed up and go door to door saying, ‘Nightmare Night, what a fright, give us something sweet to bite’ and the people inside the houses would give us candy. Similar to what we did tonight with those kids. By the way, what does ‘trick or treat’ mean anyway?”

“Well back in early America children going around would request treats ranging from candy apples to popcorn balls, and if they didn’t get any then they’d play a ‘trick’ on the offending party, usually in the form of a prank. Back in medieval times the Catholic church would give out these little cakes that the peasants would take to the graves of their loved ones and eat them there as a sign of respect and remembrance.”

“Sounds like Princess Luna would like those kids,” she replied as she remembered the few instances of Luna’s pranks getting a little out of control.

“Anyway, back to your story. You’d go around getting candy-.”

“And we’d play carnival games that the neighborhood watch would organize. Then there were the rides, yeah they were cheap, but they were fun none the less. What about you, did you have anything like that when you were a kid?”

I thought for a moment on my childhood while taking another drink, “Nah, nothing like that. Our neighborhood never was that close. We had one neighbor that we’d have enough trust with to let them hold onto our mail whenever we took a trip. The entire neighborhood though? You never knew who could be a homicidal maniac or pedophile, or clinically psychotic, or a rapist. You get the point.”

“That sounds horrible,” Spits commented as she too took a drink.

“Well that’s what you get when the entire society is paranoid beyond all reasoning.” I took another drink, “With good reason though. There were many small sleepy towns that had freaks living in them and took advantage of innocents and became less close when it was discovered. It’s just how the times changed. It’s unfortunate really. It would be nice for towns and cities to be like classic Americana where everyone knows everybody and isn’t afraid to go outside and be around their neighbors.”

“Yeah it would.”

“So do you want to watch a Halloween themed movie? I know of some really scary shit and some that are just totally out there.”

“Sure, if that’s how you celebrate Halloween when you’re not a kid anymore. Spits snuggled into my side as I went to the videos on demand app and loaded up The Orphan. I think some psychological horror would be good right about now.

***

Meanwhile at Area 51…

Agent Finley had been in this lab with one of the agency’s best forensic recovery technician trying to recover anything from the plastic slag recovered from the trash can last week. He had been getting little sleep so him falling asleep on a desk wouldn’t be that far of a stretch. His mind had been wracked with finding this spy that infiltrated one of the most secure and secret sites on American soil. It wasn’t all that secret, but it definitely was secure and hard to get in to.

“Sir?” a female technician’s voice said. It startled him enough to wake him up. She had a smile on her face, “We have something.”

“What is it?” he replied as he wiped the sandman from his eyes.

She brought over a small tray consisting of a silicon chip, “What we have here is a computer chip.”

He gave her an unamused look, “No it’s a microwave TV dinner. Of course it’s a computer chip,” his voice dripping with sarcasm at first before deadpanning.

“It’s a chip to a voice scrambler.”

Finley perked up, “Well this confirms that it is a spy. Now to figure out who.”

Author's Note

Fun fact: I actually worked at the parent company of that site, I’ll tell you this right away their warehouse based at their HQ is massive. I mean they have almost fifty aisles of floor stock alone and that doesn’t even cover the back stock or overflow stock. The warehouse was so massive they give scooters to the pickers so they have enough time to get to each product to the packing line.
When I mention classic Americana think Bioshock Infinite in the beginning of the game when you get to Columbia.
I've seen The Orphan, it's pretty nuts. It's not all that scary, but it does make you think about all the crazies out there masquerading as innocent looking people.

Oh and a random side-note: guess who gets to dress up like the "Sharp Dressed Man" (ZZ Top) at his cousin's wedding? This guy.
As usual I would love to believe that I caught all my mistakes, but if I didn't go ahead and comment it out or PM me and I'll fix it ASAP.

Chapter 18: Turkey, Pumpkin Pie, and Family. Oh My.

A/N: As you may have noticed I was working on the story during Thanksgiving, but I didn’t put out a special chapter. Well that’s where this comes in. I did hint in the Christmas chapter that Spitfire and Andrew’s parents have met, well this is that chapter. After the next chapter we will be all caught up and can proceed without having to double and triple check everything to make sure it matches up. Also I am using this year’s Thanksgiving for the date, which is the 27th.

Chapter 18: Turkey, Pumpkin Pie, and Family. Oh my.

November 24, Briggs residence

I was sitting on the couch with Spits again, we were watching The Smoking Gun Presents… World’s Dumbest Criminals 21, it was an old episode, but it’s still funny as ever. We were just through laughing at an idiot who was trying to steal a big screen LCD from a fast food restaurant then proceeded to accidentally smash it. On the TV the caller ID came up showing my mom’s name and cell number, a split-second later the phone started to ring.

I pressed the button on the remote that put the phone on the TV’s speakers. Technology, gotta love it. “Hey mom,” I greeted her.

“Andrew, how did you know it was me? Oh right, caller ID. I keep forgetting about that,” she said thinking that the last part was not heard by us. Spits stifled a little chuckle. “Is Sam there too? I swore I just heard her.”

“Yeah Mrs. Briggs, I’m here,” Spits replied.

“Sam you know you can call me Madeline. Anywho I’m glad I caught both of you hopefully at a good time.”

“We were just watching TV mom, there's nothing really important going on right now,” I replied.

“Good, good. Well I just wanted to call you guys and invite you both to Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Well that’s awfully nice of you Madeline,” Spits said with sincerity.

“Well thank you Sam. I expect you two the day before. Oh and bring a dessert too,” mom said before hanging up.

“I hope she realizes that it’s a good six hour drive,” I comment.

“So what was that about a dessert?” Spits asked.

“It’s a family tradition, each family member coming to the dinner brings a dessert or side dish to the dinner. Either we’d make it there or bring it pre-prepared.” I paused for a moment, “So do you know any family recipes from back home?”

***

November 26

The Nevada desert rolled by as we drove out of the city. I looked over to Spits a good half-hour in and saw that she was staring out the window with boredom in her eyes. That or it was sleepiness, after all it is eight in the morning.

“Hey Andrew?” she asked snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah?” I replied.

“What’s the big deal about Thanksgiving anyway?”

That was sort of a hard question since the holiday was different for each person of any family. “Well for me it’s a time to get together and eat a shit-ton of food with family. Then we sit by the TV and watch the football game until we pass out into a food coma.”

“A food coma?” she asked with half concern and half confusion.

“You know, where you eat so much you get sleepy?” I replied and she nodded. “Well that’s a food coma, and the most infamous food of causing that condition is turkey, which happens to be the main dish to begin with.”

“Ok that answers the coma part, but how did it all start?”

Come on high school American history, don’t fail me now! “Well it all started in 1492 after Christopher Columbo discovered the ‘West Indies,’ which happened to be the land we now call America. Now years later different nations in Europe started laying claims on different areas of land. The main countries laying claim to this ‘New World’ were the British, French, Spanish, and Portuguese. That’s just the set-up for the Thanksgiving story though.

“So now in 1620 a group of settlers from England that we call the ‘Pilgrims’ left their homeland because of religious persecution and sailed over the Atlantic in search of a new home of religious tolerance that the Church of England did not give. Months passed by and finally they landed at Plymouth Rock in Massachusetts. They started their colony and it was going great, until winter started to come in and they were ill equipped to handle it.

“So the Wampanoag tribesman Squanto showed these pilgrims how to survive by showing them how to catch eel and other aquatic life. The chief of the tribe also donated food to the colony which allowed them to survive the harsh first winter. In return for their kindness the pilgrims invited the tribe to a feast of thanksgiving for everything they had. It even lasted for three days. It wasn’t until President Lincoln made an official day to celebrate it nationwide. Today we still celebrate that holiday with friends and family and be thankful for what we have, regardless of whatever religion we are.”

“That’s quite a story,” Spits said.

“I might have gotten a few things wrong here and there, but that’s how it’s been told for generations,” I replied. “So do you have anything like that back home? I know that Halloween and Nightmare Night are eerily similar.”

She thought it over for a while, “We’ve had family feasts before like on Hearths Warming Eve or on a special birthday milestone, but never a specific day like the one Thanksgiving is on.”

“Hearths Warming is the one that’s in December, right?”

“Yeah it’s our equivalent of your Christmas Eve. The weird thing about Hearths Warming is that it happened in the spring but got moved to winter because of the events in the story take place in a wintery setting.”

“That sounds oddly like how Christmas was too,” I noted.

“How so?”

“Well if you take Christmas in the historical setting as it was written by ancient Christian scholars in the book of Luke, it says that the shepherds were out in the fields at night watching their sheep. They wouldn’t do that in winter since it would be too cold to do that.” I saw the look that Spits was giving me, “Yeah I know that Israel is a desert nation, but it still gets cold at night in the winter there. It turns out that some Christian leader during the reign of the Roman Empire decided to put the holiday on a pagan holiday that ran in December, making it less suspicious and making it less likely for them to be imprisoned by the Romans. Ever since then we’ve been using December to host Christmas.”

“That’s really weird,” Spits commented.

“I know right?”

***

I pulled into the driveway and put the car into park. I look to the passenger seat and see Spits snoring away. To be honest, her snores are kind of cute. I nudge her, “Spits.” Nothing happened, I nudged her again, “Spits,” I said a little louder. “Spits,” again nothing. Time to go for broke, “SPITFIRE!!!” That woke her up.

“WHAT?” she yelled in equal volume.

“We’re here,” I said calmly as I stepped out of the car. I was almost tempted to respond to that with “danger zone.”

“You can be such an ass sometimes,” she snapped.

“What? I tried to wake you up the nice way,” I shrugged. “Come on, my parents are expecting us.” We left the bags in the car and walked right up to the front door and rang the doorbell. I looked back to the driveway and saw that there was one other car in the driveway, and it was not my parents’ SUV. It was one of those really annoying Prius models. I only knew of only one person who drove that.

“Andrew!” a male voice said as he opened the door.

And speak of the devil, “Pete, brother, how are you doing?” I asked rhetorically.

“Ah good,” he said as he allowed us to come inside. He looked at my Evo, “I see you’re still driving that gas guzzling sports car.”

“Really? That’s how you open this whole holiday weekend?” I ask dumbfounded. I lean over to his ear, “You know I can kick your ass six ways to Sunday, so lay off.” He may be my brother, but he’s a total ass.

“And who is this beauty?” he asked as he saw Spits.

“I’m Samantha,” Spits said donning her alias.

“And she’s spoken for,” I added literally shoving Spits wedding ring in his face.

“Oh of course she is, I read the family newsletter, don’t you?” he replies with a snarky attitude.

“Andrew!” my mom exclaimed as she came over and hugged me. It would be a miracle if she didn’t feel the wings hidden expertly under my shirt. “It’s so good to see you here,” she finished as she released me. She then turned to Spits, “And it’s nice to finally meet you in person Sam,” she said as she took Spits’ hands in her own. She then looked Spits over, “I’m surprised that you’re up and about. Going through what you went through you’d think you’d be bedridden for a little bit longer.”

“I guess I’m just a quick healer,” Spits replied with a sheepish smile.

“It seems as though you are. Please, come, sit down and visit,” she said while gesturing to the couches in the living room. “Ooh and I see you brought a desert,” she added pointing to the cooler I was carrying. “I’ll go ahead and take that.” She left the room with it leaving me, Spits, and my ‘holier than thou’ brother in the same room. This was going to be fun, if I don’t shoot him first in the foot.

***

Later that night…

“And here’s your room,” my mom said to us as we come to my old room, which oddly had been redone to be a guest bedroom now complete with a small bathroom. I really hope they didn’t throw away my comic book collection, I had some really good issues in a box somewhere. “Try to get some sleep now, alright?” she said with a wink before walking out. “I know how you newlyweds are,” I could hear her trail off while going to her own room.

We went inside and started to change into our sleepwear after closing the door. “Well that was an interesting day,” Spits said donning her tank top and sweatpants. “Your brother is nice,” she added while stretching her wings out.

“Pfft, when he’s not being ‘holier than thou’ all the time,” I snap back taking off my own shirt and stretching my wings as well. It’s really hard keeping this a secret, I just want to tell my parents so I can walk through the house with my wings out like I do at home. Then again there’s Pete, and he’s a blabbermouth and can’t keep a secret for shit.

“What are you talking about? He seems like a nice guy,” she echoed as she walked into the half bathroom and started to brush her teeth.

“That’s what I’m talking about, he ‘seems’ like a nice guy. That’s fine and dandy, but you heard what he said to me immediately as he answered the door. That my car is a ‘gas guzzler.’ We both know that I took it into the base a month or so ago and got an experimental hydrogen cell engine installed just because we could, I mean I fill the fucker up with the garden hose,” I replied as I too started to brush my teeth.

“Well it’s not like he knew,” she shot back.

We both finished and got into bed, getting comfortable under the covers, “Ok and how is he talking about how he was talking about himself during dinner? ‘I did this,’ ‘I did that,’” I mimicked my brother as best as I could in a whiney sounding voice.

“Well it’s not like we can talk about our work out in the open with people who haven’t signed the agreement that we both had to.”

“He didn’t even let me have a chance to even come up with something to talk about. Not even the drunk bastard I punched when he was getting too rowdy at the bar before I got these,” I gestured to my wings. “What’s even worse is that he was saying how his political views are better than mine. What have I always said?”

“That you don’t talk about religion and politics with family and friends,” Spits recited as if she had heard it many times before, which she had considering I have said that before.

“Exactomundo!” I said loud enough to make a statement, but soft enough to not make a scene. “You know that’s why I joined the military, to protect freedom of speech regardless of whatever you believe in politically or religiously.”

“I thought you did it for the GI Bill of Rights?” Spits asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Ok well it was a little of both, but you get my point.” I sighed, “You know I just wanted this to be a nice little family get together without anything to fight over, even if it is just for a few days out of the year.”

“Well maybe if you talk to him he’ll-”

“You haven’t thought I’ve tried?” I said cutting Spits off. “Years and years of this have gone by and personally I’ve had enough.”

“What if I talk to him tomorrow?” Spits suggested. “Surely he’d be willing to listen to a ‘lovely lady.’”

“Well you’re welcome to try, but prepare for disappointment. He’s usually impossible.” I reached over and pulled the chain on the light. “Night,” I said as I gave her a quick peck on the lips.

“Goodnight,” she echoed back. Soon enough we were both falling asleep.

***

The next morning…

I woke up with a small ray of sunlight hitting my face. I reached over to my phone and saw that it was seven in the morning. Not bad for having no alarms set if I do say so myself. As I get up I’m careful to wriggle myself out of Spits’ embrace around my waist as well as her wings wrapped around me. She has that habit of doing that in the middle of the night. I discovered it the first time we started sleeping together in the same bed. It’s not that I don’t welcome it, but it can be a little bit of what can be described as walking through a minefield without a metal detector. I had to manipulate her fingers and arms as well as the joints in her wings to become limp enough to move oh so very gently. Not doing it right would cause her to wake up.

I went and changed into the workout clothing I brought with me so I could do a little run. I also put my pistol into a small holster behind my back. I know I probably won’t need it, but I’d rather have it and not need it rather than need it and not have it. Some areas are safer than others and it’s been a while since I’ve been in this part of town. Before walking out of the bedroom I covered up Spits’ wings with the blanket so if my parents walked in our little secret wouldn’t be exposed.

I left through the garage, thankfully my parents still used the same four digit passcode for the garage door opener that we used back when we lived with them. I ran a good five miles down the road before stopping at a McDonalds for a cup of coffee before turning around and running back to the house. It took me a good hour and a half to run all ten miles, even with the stop for coffee.

I returned back to the house and walked inside. At the table I saw Spits wearing a bathrobe, a not bad way to hide her wings by the way, sitting with my parents and brother. “Hey Andrew, where’d you go?” my mom asked as she took a drink of coffee.

“Ten mile run,” I replied taking a glass from the kitchen and filled it with water.

“I see you’re still following the routines that the Army drilled into your head,” my brother commented as he took a bite of his nasty-ass cereal. I mean it’s not even some of the fun stuff like Cap’n Crunch. Who doesn’t like the Cap’n? Ok I'm a kid at heart, I'll admit to that.

“And I still see you’re eating glorified bird food,” I counter before taking a drink of water.

“Hey it’s high in protein!”

“Cardboard has more protein than that,” I shot back.

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK YOU GOVERNMENT GIMP!”

I marched over to the table and leaned over into his face and with a big huge smirk I said, “Hipster.”

“I’M NOT A FUCKING HIPSTER!”

“Only hipsters deny being hipsters,” I counter.

“I dare you to say that one more time motherfucker, I dare you…”

“Boys, please,” my mom said as she tried to intervene. “And Pete, language,” she scolded Pete. I may be the older brother, but I know how to press his buttons just right.

“Yes mother,” we both said at the exact same time. If we weren’t related it’d be quite creepy because of the timing.

“Good, now Andrew why don’t you sit down and eat some pancakes that your brother won’t touch.”

“Because he’d rather eat the birdseed instead,” I said under my breath, which Spits caught and caused her to giggle. “Hipster.”

“THAT’S IT!” Pete yelled as he tried to strangle me from across the table.

***

One fight later…

Spitfire came out of Pete’s room and sat down next to me, a frying pan in her hand. Why the frying pan? Well my brother has a tendency to hit on women who are taken, and to be honest I have no idea why. “He won’t be bugging you about your past or the car anymore,” Spits said.

“What’d you say to him?” I asked taking the bag of frozen peas away from my jaw. Pete had gotten a good sucker punch in, I’ll give him that.

“That if he didn’t lay off I’d cut his balls off,” she replied with a straight face.

“You didn’t,” I stated in disbelief.

“No I didn’t.” Well there goes that fantasy. “I just told him since that this was my first Thanksgiving together with your family I asked that he’d lay off and in return I’d introduce him to one of my hot friends.”

“But you don’t have any single hot friends here-,” I trailed before realizing it. “Nice.”

“You know I noticed that Pete has a lot of luggage and junk in his room, what gives?” she asked as she put the pan down. My mom was busy in the kitchen and my dad was busy getting the grill out for grilled sweet potatoes.

“He lives here,” I replied before reapplying the peas.

“How old is he?”

“Twenty-two this year.”

“So he’s two years younger than you.” She walked over to the fireplace mantle, “Who’s she?” she asked pointing to younger, slightly taller, girl in the photo.

“My older sister.”

“Where is she at? I thought your mom said that she invited both of your siblings.”

“Emily’s off with her in-laws this year, we’ll probably see her at Christmas.”

“By the way why does Pete live with your parents still? Can’t he go out and get an apartment?” she asked while placing back the picture.

“Well he doesn’t have a job, all he does all day is play online video games with his so-called ‘friends’ on online gaming services. Usually drunk. I used to play a few games here and there with him, but he became unbearable and I had to remove him from my friends list and pretty much block all communications online with him.”

“He's that bad?”

“He is. Do you know what I was doing when I was twenty-two? I signed up for the Army reserves while still in college full time holding a job part time, then I got to travel the world for half a year on the government’s dime.”

“Didn’t you just go to Afghanistan?” Spits asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well there was a connecting flight in Sicily on the way here and a stop in London on the way back. Yeah now that you think about it I only saw one set of cities all in one country. Do you know where I’ve always wanted to go?” Spits shook her head, “Paris, Berlin, Cairo, Rome. Those kind of places. I could add national parks as well to the list, but you get the idea.”

“Those do sound like some exciting places, maybe one day we’ll be able to see them,” Spits replied snuggling next to me.

We sat there for a while just staring at the TV while the hosts kept talking about the different floats in the Thanksgiving Day parade. I looked at the wall clock later and saw that it was already 2pm. “Hey I’m going to check up on my dad, why don’t you pop into the kitchen and see if mom needs any help. Perhaps you can talk to her about the dessert you made yesterday.”

“Ok,” she said popping up but before walking away give me a quick peck on the forehead.

I walked outside and saw my dad still fiddling with the grill, “Forget to get a new tank of propane?” I asked sarcastically.

“No Andrew I think the valve is bad,” he replied still fiddling with the valve leading to the tank. “So I see you and your brother are getting along.”

“Not really,” I shoot back quickly.

He leaned out just far enough so I could see his facial expression, he did his best Nick Cage impression, “You don’t say?” He finally got the valve working again and lit the grill. “You really should try to get along with him.” He started putting the sweet potatoes on the grill.

“You think I haven’t tried? I sign up for the Army, he berates me for being a part of the, and I quote, ‘fascist war machine.’ We both know I mostly did it for the GI Bill of Rights.” My father nodded in reply, signaling me to continue. “I drive a really nice Mitsubishi Evolution that I paid good money for, money I saved up, and he has a shitty-ass early model Prius that he was gifted by a friend moving away that didn’t want it anymore. Then there’s his gaming habits, have you ever heard him online?”

“No I don’t think I have,” dad replied.

“He’s unbearable. Trash talking here and there. Blaming others for his own incompetence and lack of skill. Rage quitting-”

“Rage quitting?” my dad asked with a raised eyebrow.

“When you get so angry while playing a game that you quit out of rage in either two ways. One being you turn off the machine in the middle of a match in the hopes that your loss and kill/death ratios aren’t recorded. And the second being physical rage taking out on the machinery, like throwing a controller at the screen.”

“I see.”

“Dad I’ve tried every time to at least try to be nice to Pete, but he intentionally sabotages any effort based on what I think is jealousy. He’s jealous that I’ve got a nice house. He’s jealous that I not only have a nice sports car, but a classic model motorcycle as well. And most of all I think he’s jealous of everyone but him finding love. Did you see the way he was looking at Sp-Sam?” I almost slipped up there.

“But he’s been on dates before.”

“Yeah, but how long do those relationships last? Two, three months tops if that?” I sighed, “Well at least Sam got him to can up for the rest of this weekend though, and that’s nice.”

“Well I suppose I’ll have to talk to him about this stuff sometime in the near future,” my dad commented while turning over the sweet potatoes. “So what are you doing these days?”

“Well I bartend-”

“Andrew, I’m your father and I’m the one who showed you that little trick in seeing the truth in someone’s eyes and body language. I’ve seen your house in Vegas, what are you really doing?”

He stared at my awkwardly. As a child this would get my siblings and I to spill whatever secret we had almost immediately. In all honesty, mom’s stare was way worse. Now though I considered my options, I could tell him the truth about everything. He’s my dad and he’d love me no matter what, but I’d be breaching my non-disclosure agreement and would be subject to jail time. Or I could just say enough to keep him satisfied, but also keeping the little secret we’ve got going on. Yeah I think I'll do the latter.

“Well dad I can’t quite tell you what’s going on, but what I can say is that is what I’m doing with Sam will change everything about how our world works once it’s completed. Please dad, I legally can’t say anything else,” I answered very hush-hush like.

He stared at me again, analyzing every eye movement to any muscle twitches. After a few more minutes of intense staring he finally let up, “Alright I believe you. Now let’s get these inside and see what our ladies are up to food-wise.”

We walked back inside with our bounty of grilled sweet potatoes and yams, which I swear are the exact same thing, only with a different name. We came into the dining room and saw that the table had already been set, turkey and all the sides included.

“Well ladies, and Peter, I do believe we can get started,” my dad said putting the plate down as we took our places at the table. Me next to Spits appropriately. Dad said grace before carving the turkey up. Time to eat.

***

Later after a lot of turkey, cranberry sauce, potatoes and gravy, and rolls

I let out a content sigh as I laid back on the couch while the big game played on the TV. As usual Detroit was playing, but I really didn’t really pay attention to who was playing them though. The food coma is starting to set in, I blame the turkey on that one. Spits landed next to me and let out a content sigh as well. I started to nod off a few times before Spits nudged me.

“Andrew?” Spits said slowly as if she too were going to fall asleep.

“Yeah?” I replied just as sleepily.

“Your parents can be a little odd.”

“It was the question during dinner, wasn’t it?”

***

Earlier…

Everyone had gotten a nice thick slab of turkey as well as the ‘fixins.’ You know, potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce (as well as the jelly), and rolls. There’s more but that would take a while to list them all. We were all enjoying our meals until we got to the point where we would slow down in eating and the conversations would start.

“So Andrew,” mom said before taking a sip of wine. “When are you two going to start giving us some grandkids?”

Spits and I both spat out our drinks in a picture perfect spit take. Spits spraying the wine over towards the potted plant and me towards Pete. “WHAT?!?” we both asked at the same time.

***

I chuckled at the recent conversation, “Yeah they can be that way some times.”

“All in all though I did enjoy this holiday with your family, even if your brother has wandering eyes and your parents ask the most awkward of questions.”

“Well they’re meeting you for the first time in person so I think they should get a free pass on those. I think your parents would probably have done the same thing,” I said with a small tired sounding chuckle.

“Yeah I bet they would,” Spits in turn chuckled as well.

We watched the game and slowly drifted off into a food coma induced nap. Before we slipped I could feel one of my wings relax and one of the feathers at the tip of my right wing was exposed at the hem of my shirt behind our slouching forms. Just before everything went into blissful oblivion I felt another feather touching it, one that was not mine. I looked behind and saw that Spits’ wing was also exposed only at the tip, peeking out from the hem of her shirt. Her feather interlocked with mine gently as if we were making a pinkie promise. I smiled before blinking a few more times, surrendering myself to the mistress called sleep.

Author's Note

This was sort of a venting chapter after some family related issues, as you can guess they’re related to a sibling of not of the same name.
History bombs were dropped, I apologize if there’s a little misinformation there (if it is there that is).
Also there's an Archer reference in there too.
The dialogue about hipsters was inspired by GTA V when Michael calls Trevor a hipster, a very funny moment indeed.

I apologize for another filler chapter, but I needed some more time to really plan out and finalize what I’m doing next in the story, I can guarantee that it’ll be good, but you’ll have to be patient to see it. That and I need time to catch up on the episodes of season 4 that I'm currently behind on. I want to make this as canonically friendly as possible.
I’ve been getting into my new position at my new job and it’s been working out so far. It’s actually left me with a lot of time to think about the story and what events I want to make happen, so it’s a win-win for everyone.
Speaking of GTA V, I recently purchased it for 360 so if you have an Xbox 360 and want to play some rounds in GTA Online, hit me up (well message me first and I'll send you a friend request/game invite).
Questions, concerns, praise, criticism, corrections on something I botched? Comment or PM them and I’ll get back to you ASAP. Unless my internet keeps being a dick, which it has been the entirety of this month. Oh joy. Wish me luck with that.

Chapter 18.5: Spitfire's Diary (Part 4)

A/N: So we're going to get some very important insights in Spitfire's mind in this entry, especially over the events of the Christmas chapter. I eluded that I would get to that eventually as soon as the normal pace of the story caught up to the date in that chapter. The dates that this ranges from is October just after Halloween into January; so remember that formatting thing I mentioned concerning dates, this would be the instance that it would kick in. Anyway enough of my ranting and stuff, enjoy the entry.

October 20

Things got crazy with the gene therapy drug used on Andrew. The day went quite swimmingly until about after lunch when we were in the flight simulators, which by the way were a blast. He started having massive migraines and borderline blacked out before we, me and another soldier on base, got him to the infirmary. They gave him a light sedative to help with the pain. But that's when the unspeakable started to happen.

He started writhing in pain as bone started to pierce through the skin on back right near the shoulder blades, aka the scapula. There was blood leaking everywhere as the bone grew out. The medics applied gauze to attempt to lessen the bleeding, but that only did so much. Eventually I had to leave, I just couldn't take the smell of blood and antiseptic anymore. He was in so much agony that they sent someone down to the R&D department and found some sort of truth serum that after a short amount of time caused short term memory loss for a few hours. They combined it with the sedative and knocked him out cold. I just hope that he doesn't remember any of that.

October 22

They wouldn't let me in to see Andrew last night. That German doctor said that he needed it to be "as sterile as possible" to prevent infection. They could have let me in to see him in one of those clean suits. But NO they had to keep me out. However today I asked again and apparently I could go in for a short bit after they change out the bandages.

When I saw him unconscious on the bed I couldn't help wanting just to hold his hand telling him that it was going to be ok, even if he couldn't hear me. I saw that the featherless wings were grown out about a fourth of their total final length. They had started a saline IV line laced with more sedatives. They pretty much want him out for the count until the bones are finished growing completely. I feel as though Andrew should have turned down the Joint Chiefs instead of agreeing to their little "deal," especially if this is what he's going through.

I head a horrible screaming on the other side of the base, which should have been impossible due to the Doppler effect and all that. Or was it sound dampening? I digress. Anyway the screams, they were ear piercing, I would have been surprised if anyone didn't hear it. Then the lights flickered on and off rapidly, I really hope no one on base was inclined to have epileptic seizures, because that would have definitely set them off. Then the lights all turned red and a warning klaxon started blaring and pandemonium started raging through out the base. It stopped a few minutes later, I was later told that planes had exploded outside and that the base's reactor almost went critical after some weird phenomenon happened that they won't tell me about. It was scary, even for me. The worst part was being out of the loop entirely, but then again you're used to being in the loop when you're the captain of Equestria's elite flying team.

October 25

I talked to that German scientist today, well I more or less confronted him and asked why the wings were growing so fast. It turns out that they added more of those nanites in the solution to speed up the process, however due to a gross miscalculation on one of the programmer's part in which they forgot a "4" in the place of the "weeks" section of how slow to take it. What was supposed to be similar to a baby's tooth growing into a vacant slot turned into what I've seen in Skyrim when you transform into the vampire lord, borderline instantaneous growth, which is beyond painful.

I got to visit Andrew after that confrontation, which by the way wanted me to plant a solid fist to that guy's face by the way, and the wings were at their fully grown length. They were already starting to grow feathers. They're small right now, but based on this growth by tomorrow they should be fully grown and be ready to fly with. With of course a preening beforehand. I'll get it all done before they take him off the sedatives tomorrow if they're ready. I'll show Andrew how to do it himself later. I know exactly what's going to happen when he regains full consciousness, he's going to want to fly. For some reason in angel brain physiology it's just wired to make us want to fly every chance we get. Being here has made it quite difficult when it's all said and done, but coming to this base and flying around after sessions with that psychologist has made that itch a little more manageable.

Back home preening another's wings is almost as sacred as marriage is here to certain religions, it's only done with someone special who you can absolutely trust with anything with. The reasoning behind it is because you're more or less holding each other's life in your hands. If you make one wrong placement it could mean the difference between a successful loop-de-loop and falling thousands of feet to either a permanent injury or death. It happened years before I took over as captain of the Wonderbolts, a young rookie had his then girlfriend preen his wings one day after a sex romp before a performance. He tried to pull a high G turn during a trick but was unable to pull up due to a lack of lift and smashed into a wall at high speeds, paralyzing him from the neck down. I don't know what happened to the two of them after, but the story remains as a constant cautionary tale on the team of putting your life in someone else's hands by not preening your own wings.

I should get to sleep. I have an early day tomorrow of preparation. They've been letting me stay here in the infirmary room. One of the nurses even brought me a pillow and blanket just before I started writing. There are some really nice people here, reminds me of home.

October 27

Andrew just woke up about an hour ago. He's getting a bite to eat as I write this since he hasn't eaten in almost a week. We're going to go out for his first flight. I can't help but be a bit excited for him. Yesterday I got his wings all perfectly preened so he's pretty much good to go. I can't wait to see him start flying and once he sees and feels just how fun it is he won't be able to resist the call of the skies. Or well hopefully be able to control himself while also not resisting, you know what I mean. We're going to drive out into the middle of the desert to have a private one on one flying lesson. This should be a fun experience for the both of us, now we have one more thing in common that we can do. Oh my God, I sound like one of those people that don't know anything about their spouse before marrying them, or even new couples. How I loathe those kinds of people... You know what kinds I'm talking about, the ones that don't attempt to learn anything. Now I've just gotten off topic again. Well here comes Andrew now, time to do some flying.

October 27 +3 hours

I'm shocked, just dumbfounded. I just received the worst news that I could ever hear. Princess Twilight has just said that it may either be impossible for me to come home, or that it'll take much longer than expected. It started shortly after Andrew and I got back to our place, I had set him down in his recliner so that he could prop up his twisted ankle from a botched landing, when shortly after we watched some TV Twilight told us through that rift thing that I may not be able to come home so soon as she thought because she had returned the Elements to the "Tree of Harmony" in order to stop some 1000 year old scheme that Discord put into place before his reformation. So in order to save the country they pretty much left me here. I know the saying "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one," but that doesn't mean I don't feel shafted right now. I guess I'll write more on this later when I can really think straight.

October 29

A few days ago Andrew and I were called back to the base just hours after we left to have a private flying lesson and returned home with one new injury. The reason? There's a spy on base sabotaging this whole gene science thing they've been working on. We sat in a waiting room, or what could be considered a waiting room. Then we were interrogated by some CIA spook whose name was Finley. He asked about everything and we cooperated, up until he was called out and we were dismissed. I don't like the idea of a spy sabotaging this experiment, what if it had been Andrew that had been affected instead of that Private? I would have lost it. Right now Andrew is the only person that I can truly trust here. I have a feeling that this won't be the last of Agent Finley and his rival mystery spy.

October 31

Today certainly was the interesting day. Today Andrew scared kids wearing a grim reaper's outfit claiming to be the "angel of death." At least though we both got to let our wings out without any suspicion. I even got some really nice compliments about them, then again everyone thought they were really good fakes, BUT receiving any compliment is nice. This holiday though reminds me of Nightmare Night so much, however with less parties involving the entire neighborhood though. Andrew gave me a good reason why though, it pretty much all stopped after the 1970's or so.

It's crazy scary how similar holidays and customs that exist here are either replicated or borderline identical back home. Part of this makes me homesick, it really does. But where is home really? Is it here with Andrew, or back home in Cloudsdale? They say "home is where the heart is," I guess I'll have to think about this some more in depth.

November 29

I've been thinking. What if I can't go home at all? What if I am stuck here for the rest of my days here with Andrew and his crazy-ass family? More on that second part in a bit though. I remember Twilight saying that she may not be able to get me home for a long while, or not at all. What's to stop me now from putting down roots? Starting a family? Getting to the point of where Andrew and I can be more... intimate. Of course those might be in the reverse order, but the point is still valid.

Then if Twilight does manage to get me back home do I take Andrew with me? If we have children do I take them with me or leave them with Andrew if he doesn't or can't come with? I'd prefer that first one if that scenario would happen, but it does bring up some very valid questions that I'm going to have to ask myself over the coming months. We cuddle, kiss, and sleep in the same bed; but we haven't slept together in the romantic/intimate sense since that Vegas wedding ceremony. Will our current relationship stay the way it is, even when sex gets introduced, or will it change in a direction that we do or don't want? That's what's scaring me the most right now on an emotional level.

Onto Andrew's crazy-ass family. His parents are nice, but ask really awkward questions. One of which spawned that idea for possibly starting a family here with Andrew. Anyway his mother, well my mother-in-law, is a great cook. I can see where Andrew gets his culinary skills, or well what he knows about cooking at least. We haven't had a major kitchen disaster so far. His dad is well, I really don't know how to paint a picture of him. He's got that air of authority, mainly because he's the head of the household, but he's also has that subtle underlay of "fuck with my family I'll blow your head clean off."

His brother though, well I'm going to be honest. He's kind of a self-absorbed child that's too old to be a child. It doesn't help his case that he's never had a job and doesn't plan to anytime soon. He kept looking at me with wandering eyes attempting to sneak a peek at my breasts and ass. After a short talk, which involved a frying pan and the threat of cutting off a certain piece of his anatomy that he's quite attached to, he left us alone; well mainly Andrew was left alone. I never got the pleasure of meeting Andrew's sister, however I might be able to around Christmas if she's there.

I like this holiday that we just celebrated, Thanksgiving. It's a day to pig out on good food and be with family both immediate and gained through marriage. Today is Black Friday, Andrew's parents went to the stores in the area and bought a bunch of presents for the next major holiday, Christmas. It gets nuts. Andrew showed me the surveillance video of that poor woman that got trampled to death in a Target or something from years ago that went viral. He told me that most stores don't get that way, but events like this one were a dime a dozen. People are so weird here, and that's coming from the flying person who lives in a world of others who can fly and use magic to do anything.

December 17

So Christmas is in one week and I still haven't gotten Andrew anything as a gift. There's so many things that I could go with from the practical to the "nice to have" genre of things. I've been thinking though, why don't I get him something that no one else could give him? And I mean nobody else, just me. I'll really have to think this one though and plan it to a T.

Anyway, Christmas decorations around the house have been put up like the tree. Andrew says that it's a tradition that goes all the way back to a guy named Martin Luther back in Germany in the 1500's. According to legend/history about this guy it says that he was walking outdoors in Germany when he saw an evergreen tree and it looked like it pointed towards "heaven." He chopped it down and displayed it in his house using candles and ornaments to decorate it. Ever since then the Christmas tree has been an essential piece of the holiday. It's kind of cool that a tradition such as that has lasted over 500 years to this very day. Sort of like the decorations that are used during Hearth's Warming.

December 22

I've thought about it long and hard (phrasing. Sorry I've been watching a lot of Archer recently), and I thought of the perfect gift for Andrew. I mean it's absolutely perfect and I'm the only one who could possibly give it to him. That and I also got him something else that he'd like. But in case Andrew decides to sneak a peek in here for hints on what I'm going to get him. Wait for Christmas you sneak!

December 25

That was well worth the wait. Close to four months have passed since Andrew and I got married in the eyes of his laws, and we finally had sex of our own volition two days ago. No alcohol was involved at all. To make the night special I even got some really nice lingerie to wear. All I have to say is that he was stunned, but in a good way. I practically threw myself at him in someone else's house, no wait I did do that. Sorry homeowner of that cabin for the mess we made. All I have to say was it was amazing, I really believe that I made the right choice here. Andrew tried to turn me down at first, but when I told him that it was something I wanted he gave in, well it sort of helped that I had boobs in his face, that tends to mesmerize men no matter how gentlemanly they are. The reason we didn't fly to Andrew's grandparents' place was because he didn't really feel all that confident in flying long distances as of yet. That and there was a week's worth of luggage that we'd have to carry.

Anyway I got to finally meet his sister Emily. She was initially suspicious of me, however she took a long look at me before giving me her "approval." Apparently Andrew had some bad experiences with women in the past and his sister had gotten extremely overprotective of him because of that. I even got to meet his niece as well. She is the most adorable girl that I've ever seen, and this is comparing her to that sister of Rarity's. If those two had a cuteness competition they'd tie, and probably cause a plethora of heart attacks. There's also something about her, something familiar, I just can't put my finger on it. I swear I've seen her somewhere before coming here to this world, but for some reason it just escapes me at the moment. Little Jenny calls me "Auntie Sam" in the most adorable voice you ever would have heard. It turns out that I'm going to have another niece or nephew via Emily. Turns out she's preggers, so that's pretty exciting.

Onto Christmas news. The holiday was great, well other than getting stranded the day before. BUT on the other hand we had sex, so it sort of equals out. We exchanged gifts earlier this morning. Jenny got a bunch of toys, there were even some Legos in there too. She apparently likes building stuff like space ships and other stuff. Apparently it reminds Andrew of how him and Emily used to make things out of Legos when they were younger. Andrew got me jewelry and I got him a revolver, a really nice one I might add. I have no idea what happened to Pete, I heard that he's hanging out with a friend or something back at Phoenix. So we're supposed to be heading back to Vegas in a few days, since there's snow here I heard that Andrew was going to take me snowboarding or skiing tomorrow. That should be fun.

January 1, 2021

Well we're back home in Vegas. We had fun in the snow over in Colorado. I almost broke my ankle when I fell down while snowboarding. Luckily it was only a bruise that cleared up a few days later. Well we woke up this morning naked and happy, and slightly hung over from last night's little personal celebration of "ringing in the new year" party. It's been a crazy six months since I've arrived here, and I'm pretty happy all things considering. I have a husband that loves me, in-laws that are pretty nuts (well except for Emily, she's one of the less crazy ones), a good job, and a nice house to live in. Part of me wishes that I could go home, and another part that wishes that I could just stay here. I know that one day soon I'll have to choose one or the other, not both.

Author's Note

As promised a while back I have an explanation for Spitfire's actions during the Christmas chapter.
Many late nights were used to work on this chapter alone to make sure everything matched up with what I currently have written, because who likes doing rewrites after a chapter has already been published? I know I don't.
At the time of publishing I've ~~been catching~~ caught up on the episodes to again make sure that future chapters are Season 4 friendly. There will be one slight twist on one episode, but I have a plan to work around it.
I've got some excellent ideas in the works since I have loads of time to think at work. I've got at least one plot twist that you won't even see coming.
A couple of chapters ago I mentioned the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and how the gentlemen on duty take their job seriously, here is one account of how they'll shut you up.
Completely off topic but I just learned that one of my favorite shows (Psych) is getting cancelled after this season. That saddens me. Also I recommend the show Space Dandy, it's really funny and cracks me up, check it out on Adult Swim's Toonami if you get the chance.

Anyway I'd like to think I've caught all my errors, if not then call them out in comments or a PM.

Chapter 19: Family Matters

Chapter 19: Family Matters

I watched as the Lamb opened the first of the seven seals. Then I heard one of the four living creatures say in a voice like thunder, “Come!” I looked, and there before me was a white horse! Its rider held a bow, and he was given a crown, and he rode out as a conqueror bent on conquest.
Revelation 6:1+2

February 12, 2021 – Base cafeteria

“-So then I told him,” I started the punch line on my story to some of the other test pilots. My phone started ringing. I looked at the caller ID and saw it was Emily. “Sorry guys, I got to take this,” I said walking away.

“Aww, interrupted right at the good part too,” one of the guys commented.

“That’s what she said,” someone said walking in on the conversation as they passed.

I rolled my eyes as I walked to a more private area, “Hey sis, what’s up?”

“Andrew, something happened,” she said on the other side, I could almost hear her sniffling on the other side.

“You don’t sound so hot, what’s going on?”

“It’s Eric. He’s… he’s…” she trailed.

“He’s dead?” I asked with shock.

“No, it’s worse.”

“He got hit by a train?”

“No, but I wish he was right now.”

“Emily,” I sighed as I started rubbing the bridge of my nose. “Stop playing twenty questions with me and tell me what’s going on with Eric,” I borderline demanded.

“He’s cheating on me half a world away.”

“Well how do you know that? You did tell me that he was doing business overseas after all.”

She took a little time to say something. “I looked up his phone’s GPS and it showed he was at a hotel in Japan notorious for being a place to hook up.”

“Well how do you know that he didn’t just wander in the area of it?” I asked trying to give my brother-in-law the benefit of the doubt.

“He’s been there every night for the last week, though his hotel is on the other side of the city,” she said with a sob.

“Listen sis, I’m going to come out to LA.”

“You don’t have to-”

“No I DO have to. Remember what you did to that bitch Heather years ago for breaking my heart?”

“Yeah?”

“Well now it’s time for me to be a brother. I’ll see you in a bit ok?” I said before hanging up. I walked back towards the group. “Hey, any of you willing to give me a lift to LA?”

***

Los Angeles airspace

Yeah I wasn’t able to catch a ride with one of the pilots, even any of the cargo planes leaving to secret DARPA facilities with some of the stuff we’ve been working on. I mean hell, even if they were going over the city I could just jump out, glide down, and catch a cab somewhere. But no, no free rides for me. So therefore I’m flying myself to LA. I took a break near the Angeles national park, you know the one behind the Hollywood sign? I sat on the “H” of the sign as I took a breather. Spits is going to be pissed once she knows I just left out of the blue. My phone started ringing, and speak of the devil.

I picked it up and with an innocent, “Hi Spits,” I answered.

“Where the hell are you?” she asked.

Time slowed down to a stand-still as I thought of what to say. I could either blatantly lie to her and say that I’m still on base, which she could easily check up with those pilots that I hang out with, or I could tell her where I am. Lying would land me on the couch and end up sexless for who knows how long, BUT admitting where I am and why may land me some sympathy. And sympathy doesn’t land me on the couch.

“I’m in LA right now, actually I’m sitting on the Hollywood sign.”

“Why the hell are you there!?!” she yelled.

I pulled the phone away and popped my ears, “Emily called and said that Eric’s been cheating on her. I’m just heading to her place to cheer her up, and maybe beat the shit out of my scumbag brother-in-law over in Japan.”

“Well that’s all fine but I would have liked if you said something- wait did you say Japan?” she asked with what I would have assumed was a confused look. Well I can’t see her now can I?

“Yeah he’s been over there for about three months now.”

“I’m going to meet you there,” she said while in the background it sounded like she was getting up and heading into a lobby.

“In Japan?” I asked jumping down from the sign, I used my wings to do a few power strokes to help soften my landing. I folded my wings against my black hoodie before adjusting it to slide my wings back in between the areas cut out for them. I got to the guys in R&D and got them, with the motivation of money, to make two hoodies that have zippered wing holes that have little flaps to hide the zippers when closed up. Spits had an orange one at home.

“No, in Canterlot,” she said with sarcasm permeating her voice.

“Alright. You have my sister’s address, right?”

“No, can you send it to me?”

I put the call on speaker and opened my address book and copied Emily’s address and sent it via text to Spits, “Sent. Hey could you stop at the house and get our passports? If I have to go half-way across the world to beat Eric up I don’t want to get stuck in customs.”

“Alright I got the address. Should I fly there or FLY there?” she asked emphasizing the last one more and I knew immediately what she meant: flying here with her own wings.

“Depends, can you go faster than a passenger jet?” I queried.

“If I hit the right updrafts and winds I can. And I’ll be sure to drop by the house and grab the passports.”

“Thanks, I’m going to head over to Emily’s now. See you soon,” I said before we exchanged an ‘I love you’ and then I hung up. Now a new thought comes to mind, how am I going to get there? I could fly again, but that would draw attention to me. I mean a human with wings flying above the city, yeah like that won’t be seen on CNN, FOX, and other news sites. I could pull a GTA and ‘borrow’ a car, but I have no desire to go down to the local precinct if I get caught. Then there’s getting a taxi, I do have cash on me after all. Then there’s just walking, but it’s got to be at least thirty miles to get to her house if not more. I’m partial to the taxi right about now.

***

A few blocks away from Emily’s

Well that was a long drive that took almost an hour to get from the park there to Emily’s house, which was a mile away from the beach. A nice property if I do say so myself. I remember when I helped them move out here a few years ago, after we were all done she and Eric had taken me to the beach for some surfing lessons. Let’s just say that I wiped out, a lot.

I continued to walk the last few blocks to get out of an apartment complex. It is late afternoon now and the sun is starting to set. As I walk along I feel like someone is watching me, not from above in the clouds either, but from behind me. I looked at the reflective glass of my wristwatch at an angle so instead of being a piece of glass it acted like a mirror. Behind me I saw two young men in their late teens following me.

I started walking slightly faster than I already was. I checked again and saw that they were still following me, matching my pace. I hate using advice I got from TV shows, but this one does seem applicable to the situation. I believe it went something like this: ‘If you’re being followed it’s not necessarily a bad thing. You’re the one they’re following and can walk them into your own ambush at your own choosing.’

I started looking around at the current landscape. I saw a few apartment complexes that ranged from two to three stories up. Two of the complexes came close to each other with an alleyway that a garbage truck could fit through. I came up to where I could see down it and turned straight into it. As soon as I rounded the corner I reached back and unzipped the openings in my hoodie and let my wings out. I quickly took to the air and landed up on the roof of one of the buildings. I pulled up my hood and laid down so that I could see over the ledge. They strolled into the alley.

“Where did he go?” one asked as he spun around in confusion. “There’s no way he got down there that fast,” he pointed down towards the end of the alley.

“Come on, let’s go get this fucker,” the other said as they started walking down the alley. When they had reached the middle I jumped down, using my wings like air brakes I gently touched down a few feet in back of them without a sound.

I tapped them on their shoulders. They spun around and looked at me with very surprised looks, “Hello,” I said as I smashed their heads together causing them to stumble and fall to the ground. “Looking for me?” They grasped their heads and moaned in pain, “I’m sorry, it seems as though you’re busy with a couple of concussions.” I crouched over them, “Just a tip though, don’t try to sleep with a concussion because you might not wake up.” I stood up to walk away.

“You asshole,” the taller of the two said.

“Don’t you know who we are?” the stouter of the two asked.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” I replied coldly as I turned around, my back facing them. I folded my wings back inside my hoodie and walked away like nothing ever happened. I walked out of the alley and kept heading towards Emily’s house.

Behind me I heard a, “Holy shit! Did you see that?!?”

And with that I started walking faster, luckily I had my hood up during that little scuffle, if you could even call it that, so that should keep my identity hidden. I continued to walk until I got to Emily’s house. I stopped at the door and rang the doorbell. A few seconds later I heard the deadbolt being unlocked and the door opened. Standing there was Jenny, whose expression went from confusion to excitement in the span of a few seconds.

“Uncle Andy!” she yelled running towards me, giving me the biggest hug an adorable pink haired munchkin like her could. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey there short stack, where’s your mom at?” I asked in return messing up her hair.

She let me come inside, me closing the door behind me. “She’s in her room crying and I don’t know why. She just told me to watch TV for now.”

We walked into the living room, “Hey why don’t you watch TV for now and let me go see what’s up with your mom, ok?”

“OK!” she said with excitement before jumping on the couch, turning up the volume.

‘Earlier today we received word from NASA that the first manned mission to the moon since the Apollo missions will be launching in three days. Set your calendars everyone, this is going to be quite the event. If you’ll remember this series of missions is to establish a moon base as a stopping point to start manned missions to Mars-.’ the rest of it got cut off as Jenny changed the channel.

I walked over to the master bedroom and knocked softly on the door, “Hey Em, I’m coming in ok?” I said before opening the door slowly. The room was dark and depressing. Emily was on the bed looking more worn out then she had ever been.

“Andrew,” she said with a sniffle, shuffling to sit up, “I wasn’t expecting you at least for another few hours if not tomorrow.”

“Well when I heard I flew here as fast as I could,” I replied. It wasn’t a total lie after all. “How are you doing?”

“Better than I was this morning when I found out.” She rubbed a tear out of her eye, “I don’t know how to tell Jenny what’s going on. I don’t even know where to go from here.”

“Do you have any idea how long he’s been doing this?” I ask while taking a seat on the bed.

“Since the beginning of December if not further back with other women state-side.”

My assigned text tone for Spits went off. I looked at the lock screen, ‘I’m almost there, no later than an hour after sundown.’ I opened up the messenger app and sent back, ‘K, just ring the doorbell when you get here.’

“Do you want some tea or anything?” I ask. “I’d ask if you’d want some wine, but considering you current condition that would be unwise.”

“Sure, I should have something in the kitchen cupboards,” Emily replied with a sniffle. I probably should get some Kleenexes for her. I walked into the kitchen and started boiling some water. Jenny came in looking for a snack.

“What’s wrong with mommy? Is she ok?” she asked as only an innocent child could.

“Don’t worry kiddo, she’ll be fine soon,” I replied as I messed her hair up again. “Hey have you eaten yet?” She shook her head ‘no,’ “What would you say if I ordered us some pizza?”

“YAY! You’re the bestest uncle ever!”

“And don’t you forget it,” I added with a smirk. We ordered two large cheese pizzas from Papa John’s, gotta love that place. It’s a regional thing. About a half-hour later the doorbell rang and there before me was the delivery guy. One payment and tip later, Jenny and I were eating some quality pizza. Emily came out too as soon as she smelled the wonderful smell of food. However she ripped off the cheese and put pickles and peanut butter on it. Damn those cravings must be hitting her hard.

“That’s just weird,” I commented, which elicited a little giggle from Jenny. The doorbell rang again. Emily got up to go get it, “Sit,” I commanded. Ok not really ‘commanded,’ more like suggested. “I’ve got this one.” Getting up I went to the door and standing on the porch was Spits.

“Hey,” she said before giving me a quick kiss.

“Glad to see you made it. Got the passports?” I said ushering her inside.

She pulled off her backpack and pulled out two US passports, “And because you left so suddenly I even brought you a change of clothes.” ‘And a set for myself,’ she thought to herself. “Is that pizza?” she said walking into the kitchen.

And as if on cue, “AUNTIE SAM!” Jenny yelled. I looked inside and saw Jenny wrapped around Spits’ leg. “What are you doing here?”

“Well I came to deliver some important papers to Andrew here before taking off on a plane to take care of some ‘business,’” Spits replied. If there were any time to use air quotes that would have been the time.

“Aww, so you’re not staying?” Jenny asked with puppy dog eyes.

“Just the night, then we’re off for a bit to go find someone,” she said as she tried to mess with Jenny’s still pink hair.

“Hey, only Uncle Andy gets to do that,” Jenny pouted. Kids, what are you going to do?

The rest of the night wound down to Spits and Emily doing what I like to call ‘lady talk.’ This be the reason why men invented the smartphone, so that guys may distract themselves while their significant other talks the night away with another woman. Jenny and I watched TV for a while. She watched some Spongebob looking show, or it was Spongebob Squarepants. My God that show’s been on the air for what? Twenty years now?

Then Emily came in and chased Jenny to bed right at the stroke of eight. We all watched whatever was on TV for the next hour, that is until the news came on.

“This video has been going around the internet today that has a bunch of people questioning its authenticity,” the male reporter said before cutting to ‘amateur video’ footage. It showed an angle that obscured my face but showed me flying up onto the building’s roof, then gliding down, and bashing the two street gangsters’ heads together. They even managed to get my ‘Don’t know, don’t care’ before I walked away.

“The video has gone viral all around the world as of a few hours ago with over one million views and counting. There have been countless video replies either in trying to prove this is real or fake,” the anchor finished before swapping over to a clip from a reply.

“You can totally tell it’s faked. As you can see there are too many shadows to hide the equipment to make it look like the actor here to ‘fly’ as you will,” a male said. He sounded like a guy that still lives in his mother’s basement.

They cut to another clip, “As you can see the wings bend organically, not mechanically. It’s safe to say either this is either extremely well done CGI work that took many man hours, or it is the real deal,” a female voice said over a digitally drawn over version of the video. She highlighted the areas where the joints were on my wings.

They cut back to the anchors, “As you can see the internet community is ablaze with conversations and arguments over this three minute video.”

“Andrew,” Spits said real slowly, like she was formulating the next sentence real carefully. “Tell me why that sweatshirt on the TV looks just like yours does?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I quickly stammered out.

“Andrew, you’re hiding something,” Emily said giving me a look used by our mother when she wanted to get something out of us that we were hiding.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You always acted like this when we were little when you had something to hide. Now the question is: what are you hiding?” Emily asked with a raised eyebrow.

I looked over to Spits and gave her my best innocent face and hoped that everything would end up ok. Emily was still sitting there with her arms crossed.

“Well? I’m waiting,” Emily said as she started tapping her foot.

“Em, please swear that you won’t freak out,” I said as I stood up.

“Why would I freak out?”

“Just please, promise me that you won’t.”

She sighed, “Fine.” She raised her right hand, “I swear upon grand grandpa’s grave that I won’t freak out.” She put her hand down, “Happy?”

“Not really, but it’s the closest we’re going to get right now,” I replied. I stood up and took off my sweatshirt. My wings were still sitting, quite comfortably might I add, folded against my back. Emily raised an eyebrow, “Just give it a second.” I slowly unfurled my wings to a relaxed position, showing off the wingspan without fully extending them; similarly that’s how Spits has her wings out at home when we’re alone.

She sat there just staring at the jet black wings and feathers, “Hold on a second.” She pinched herself, “Nope not asleep.” She looked up at me, confusion definitely on her face, “Andrew, what’s going on? What’s THAT?” she asked as she pointed at my wings.

“These?” I ask making them move a little.

“No, the kitchen sink. Of course THOSE.”

“Em, you have to promise me not to tell anyone. Not Jenny and especially not our parents.” She nodded and I proceeded to tell her the abridged version of how I got my wings. You know, cutting out the gore and giving the version that a layman could understand, in other words what I understood.

After it was all said and done Emily just sat there for a few minutes. During the telling of my tale I sat down and put my hoodie back on. “So let me get this straight, the military performed an experiment on you-.”

“One that I opted in to, no one forced me to do it,” I add.

“-And Sam also has wings.” Spits made her orange wings shift out a bit so you could see a feather or two. “And you’re involved in something that you can’t tell me because of legal paperwork?”

“That’s the gist of it.”

“And they actually work?”

“How else do you think we got here in such a small amount of time?” I asked.

“Well I thought you got the first available plane.”

“Anyway though, I’m going to take care of this ‘Eric’ thing so you don’t have to.”

“Please don’t hurt him,” Emily pleaded.

“Don’t worry, Em. First I’ll try to talk to him rationally, and if he doesn’t then we’ll see where it goes from there,” I replied.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t go too far,” Spits said reassuringly.

“There’s a pull out bed in the couch there,” Emily said pointing to the couch. “There’s some sheets and blankets in the closet there. I’m going to get to bed, I have to work in the morning and Jenny has to get to school. Have a good night guys.”

“‘Night,” I said before she disappeared into her room. We spent the next few minutes making the pullout bed and stripping out of our clothes down to our undergarments, Spits didn’t bring our sleepwear, only a change for the next day for the both of us. We sat on the bed trying to get a little comfortable.

“Hey, I brought your laptop with me,” Spits said pulling out my Toshiba laptop from the backpack. “I figured you’d want to book a flight online rather than up at the front desk,” she handed me it and I booted it up. “Did you get a chance to preen your win- wait, you didn’t tell your sister about them until now so that’s probably a ‘no’ then.”

“Nope, no chance to. Can you take a quick look for me?” I asked while putting in my password.

“Sure, as long as you give me a wing and back massage in return,” she said with a very lusty look in her eye.

“I can’t see why not, you flew just as far as I did.” I extended my left wing and Spits ran her fingers through the feathers looking for broken or out of place. It felt really nice. When she did it the first time while I was awake it was really hard to stay focused on what I was doing since it felt like one of those sensual massages. Now it feels nice and the nerves aren’t quite as sensitive as they used to be. Oh they’re still sensitive enough to detect air currents and updrafts, but not as bad as they used to.

She plucked out a broken feather here and there. Believe it or not it didn’t hurt that much, it was like plucking out a single whisker. After she was done inspecting my left wing she gave the joints a quick rub to relax them a little. “Alright, and now the right one,” Spits requested. I retracted the left wing and stretched out the other. She did the same thing like the other, but didn’t pluck out any feathers. She did however move some back into place. During this I was able to get two round trip tickets for tomorrow. “Alright I’m all done. Now it’s your turn to give me a little something,” she said laying down on her stomach, spreading her wings. She reached behind and undid the clasp on her bra. “I’m waiting, lover,” she said with a smile and a bit of longing.

I started the shutdown sequence and set the computer off to the side and knelt beside her and started kneading the muscles closest to the wing joints first. She let out a slight low content moan as a knot was loosened. I moved to another spot, “A little more to the right,” she requested. I obliged and was rewarded with another slow moan. “Right there,” she said. I kept kneading the muscles in that spot before moving onto the wings themselves with the muscles, ligaments, and joints. I started on one wing before moving onto the other. Every single time I hit a spot she wanted massaged she moaned.

After I was done I laid down next to her. “That was nice, you should do that more often,” she said with a smirk. She cuddled up next to me, her bare breasts pushing up against my back and her soft wings wrapped around us. I shortly fell asleep after that but one thought passed into my mind as I drifted off and Spits started tracing circles on my back lightly with her finger: happy wife, happy life.

***

The next morning

Spits and I woke up the next morning to a high pitched girl’s voice saying, “Wake up Uncle Andy, it’s morning.” I opened my eyes and saw that it was Jenny already dressed in her school clothes. There isn’t any dress code apparently so she was wearing a pink t-shirt and a pair of jeans. “Mommy made pancakes! Come on you’re going to miss them,” she said dragging me out of bed. Damn that girl is strong for being so little.

“Don’t worry kiddo, I’ll be there in just a bit. I just want to take a quick shower first, ok?” I said to her with as much patience as one can from just waking up.

“OK!” she said excitedly as she skipped back into the kitchen.

I got up and showered. I came out and saw Spits right outside the door waiting to go next. “You know if you would have taken a few more minutes I would have joined you,” she said with a smirk while tracing a finger on my chest. “But oh well, maybe next time,” she said walking inside and closing the door.

“You can be such a tease sometimes,” I said through the door. I walked into the kitchen and saw a large stack of pancakes sitting on a plate for me, “Hello ladies, is that for me?”

“Yeah! Mommy made a bunch, Aunt Sam already ate while you were showering,” Jenny said excitedly before drinking her juice.

“Is she usually a morning person?”

“Normally, not really. It usually takes a little more to get her out of bed for school,” answered Emily. “Today must be an exception because her favorite uncle is here.” I shrugged to her suggested hypothesis. I started eating the stack while Emily finished off a cup of coffee. “So how are you two getting to the airport?”

“I was going to ask if I could borrow the car, but you need it to get to work. So I’m planning on just calling a cab.”

“You know the cabs are excessively expensive here, right? I’ll just drop you off at the terminal. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment anyway so I’ll be going into work later.”

“Well since you’re offering…”

“Alright I’m done,” Spits said coming in wearing a towel on her head. You know how women are with that whole thing. I don’t know how, but Spits managed to keep her wings hidden from Jenny while eating, so that little secret is safe. Don’t’ get me wrong, I’d like to tell my niece about this, but kids are such blabbermouths that it wouldn’t stay secret long. Just look at the lyrics for “I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus,” the kid couldn’t keep it secret for long before he said something.

“Well Sam I’ve got good news, Emily’s giving us a ride to the airport.” We finished eating and packed up the backpack, which now contained our used clothes, before getting in Emily’s car. We first stopped at Jenny school and dropped her off. She waved at us as she went inside. The drive to the airport was quiet as I tried to plan my and Spits course of action. We’d try to do this diplomatically to see if Eric had any remorse at all. Then what? Throw a couple of punches at him? Kidnap him and bring him back to the states? Take incriminating photos and take them to a divorce lawyer?

We arrived at the airport. After some ‘goodbyes’ and hugs to and from my sister we checked in. Airport security was as annoying as always. It took another hour to get through that, which left us a good fifteen minutes to get to the terminal and be ready to leave.

“Flight 1277 from LA to Tokyo is now boarding. Please have your tickets and passports ready, thank you,” came the female voice over the intercom. Boarding and seating went easy enough. Unfortunately there’s a baby a few rows behind us. Oh joy, it’s going to be one of THOSE flights. Soon enough we were in the air. We punched through the clouds and started cruising.

“I wonder how the team’s dealing with me being gone for the Equestrian games. I was supposed to be on the Cloudsdale team after all,” Spits said.

“I’m sure they’re taking care of it in a way that you’d be proud with.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” she said before dozing off. It was going to be a long flight regardless of any worries present or future.

***

Meanwhile at the Equestrian Games Trials…

Soarin’ sneezed out of nowhere. “Hey boss, you alright?” Echo asked.

He wiped his nose, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure someone’s talking about me indirectly. So, what do you think of our newest addition?”

Echo rubbed her chin as she looked at the newest team addition as she flew through the rings of the practice course for the Games. “She’s cocky, over confident, and has a bit of a narcissistic attitude. With enough guidance she could become a valuable member of the team, both at the Games and possibly on the ‘Bolts.”

“Assuming she’s overcome that ‘incident’ from eight months or so ago…”

***

Back in September, after a night of drinking

Soarin’ sat at Spitfire’s former commanding officer’s desk. It had been handed down from Captain to Captain ever since the Wonderbolts organization had been started. He downed a few aspirin to help with the headache from the hangover. Why he drank so much last night, he didn’t know.

Echo came in with a file folder in her hands, “You ok, boss?”

He started rubbing his temples to find some sort of relief, “Yes other than a deep regret of drinking so much. This the file folder of your potential candidate?”

“Yes, sir. It is,” she replied setting the folder on the desk.

He started to read it. “So she was a former academy cadet. Her body is in good physical shape. Recovered from the ‘dizz-a-tron’ in a very short period of time. Impressive. And she was expelled due to an incident involving a tornado almost hitting civilians.” He closed the folder, “Echo, are you sure you want to bring her back?”

“Yes, with the proper discipline we can at least get rid of her carelessness.”

“I trust your judgment, Echo. You are my second in command after all. Send a message and tell her the ‘good news.’”

***

Present

“Private Dust, front and center!” Soarin’ yelled.

Meanwhile on the other side of the trial grounds sat Twilight and her friends. “I can’t believe they went with Lightning Dust instead of me!” Rainbow cried to the heavens in despair.

“Don’t worry, I read the report and it’s only probationary,” Twilight reassured her.

“I guess it’s fine then…”

They continued to relax until Applejack stood up and a necklace with a small square crystal fell out and Twilight immediately took notice. “Wow Applejack, where’d you get that?”

“This?” she asked while handling the little charm. Twilight nodded, “This here has been handed down from generation to generation to the first born daughter in the Apple family.”

“How long has you family had it?”

“Some family records say that it was first given to my great-great-grandmother by a white winged angel woman who they never saw again. She was the one that apparently gave the strict instructions that it be given to the first-born daughter once they came of age, no one quite knows why.”

“Applejack dear,” Rarity said popping out from behind Twilight. “May I have a look at it?”

“Sure, just be careful with it,” she said handing it over to the fashion expert.

Rarity pulled out a jeweler’s magnifier and started inspecting the interesting little pendant. “Well I can tell you this much: it’s not diamond or any other precious stone, but quartz.”

“Quartz?” Applejack and Twilight asked at the same time.

“Yes. And what makes it more interesting is there is what appears to be microscopic etchings of dots and dashes in the crystal.”

“May I see it?” Twilight asked, her magic aura already around the necklace and the jeweler’s magnifier. She looked at it in the magnifier, “You’re right. They’re in a pattern too. What could have made this?”

“There’ll be time to figure that out later,” Applejack said taking back her heirloom. “Ah do believe it’s time for Rainbow’s team to run the relay.”

***

LA, noon

“Excuse me, but can you have Jenny Swartz come to the nurse’s office?” the principal asked over the phone.

“Of course, I’ll have her sent over right away,” the teacher replied. She walked over to Jenny, who was in the middle of coloring a picture for art class. “Jenny? I need to take you to the nurse’s office now.”

“Why?” she asked innocently.

“I don’t know, but it has to be important.” They walked to the nurse’s office and inside waiting was the nurse.

“I can take it from here Ms. Fitzgerald,” the nurse said. “Please have a seat, Jenny.” She sat down on the bed, “Now it looks like your mom missed one of the inoculations on your record to keep you healthy.” She walked over and got a syringe and filled it with the solution, “Now this is going to pinch a little ok?” She jabbed it into Jenny’s arm, she let out a little squeak. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” she put a Band-Aid over the injection site. “Now let’s get you back to class.”

***

Downtown LA

“Ah yes, Mrs. Swartz it’s good to see you again as healthy as can be,” the doctor said as he read a chart. “Now it seems as though you’re just missing an immunity booster. Other than that everything seems to be in order.”

“Well that’s good,” Emily replied in relief.

***

Hours later, Tokyo

The Boeing 747 touched down at the airport sometime around seven at night, damn you time lag! But anyway, we got through customs and said that our business for being here was for ‘pleasure.’ That got us a week’s worth of time here, but we’ll only need a day or two to track down my scumbag brother in law.

We didn’t have to collect any baggage from the carousel since all we had was the backpack. I hailed a cab and had him take us to the hotel I reserved mid-flight. He asked in broken English where we were from, I just answered with Vegas. I mean Vegas is known worldwide, regardless of the language barrier that may exist. We arrived and I even gave the guy an extra tip, though I digress I probably should have gone to the exchange and gotten a few hundred US changed into Yen, I should go do that soon.

One check in and trip up to our hotel room later I was analyzing the triangulation data from Eric’s GPS. Then I loaded up Google Earth and looked for the perfect vantage points to get incriminating photos. I’d still have to go to the ‘love’ hotel he’s shacking up at to see what room he’s staying in. I’ll do that tonight before calling it a night.

“Hey Spits, want anything while I’m out?” I asked while I put on my hoodie.

“If you could bring back something to eat that’d be great,” Spits replied back from the suite’s bed. Airplane food might not be the greatest, but it’s better than nothing.

I grabbed my wallet and keycard and stuffed them in my front pocket. The reason? It’s harder to pick someone’s front pocket than the back one. I started walking the sidewalks as I started towards Eric’s position. I called up Spits, “Is he still in the same location?”

“Let me check, yep, he hasn’t moved an inch. But then again you said these things have a twenty-five yard radius of accuracy so I can only guarantee that he’s been in the same building.”

“Alright thanks, just let me scope out a good spot and I’ll be back,” I finished with an amateur Governator impersonation.

“Wow Andrew, just get back safely.”

“I will,” I said before I hung up. I walked to the corner that Eric’s hotel was on. Immediately I started looking at the surrounding buildings. There were three taller than the hotel and one the same height. If I can get inside any of these then we’ll be all set. I walked inside the hotel and went straight for the manager’s office and knocked on the door.

The door opened and there stood a middle aged man, “[Excuse me, do you speak English?]” I asked in Japanese.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Awesome,” I pulled out my phone. “I’m looking for this guy, have you seen him?”

“Sorry, I can’t help you,” he said as he retreated back into his office.

I put my shoe in the door, keeping it from closing, “Listen buddy I’m in a tough spot. That guy I showed you is my brother in law and he’s cheating on my sister, who I might add is pregnant. So I’m going to ask you again, have you seen him?”

“I might have seen him, but I can’t be sure…”

“Really? I’m pretty sure he’s the only white guy coming in here over the last three months consecutively. In fact according to his phone’s GPS he should be here right now.”

“One second,” he went over to his computer and stared at it for a moment and wrote something down on a piece of paper. “I can’t tell you anything,” he said handing over the paper. On it was a room number and ‘he always books this one.’ I took it without saying another word and left.

I walked out to the front of the building and called Spits, “Got it, I’m on my way back.”

“Alright, I’ll see you soon,” Spits replied before hanging up herself.

“[Look what we’ve got here, a foreigner,]” a male voice said.

“[Yeah and it looks like he’s got money,]” another said.

I turned around and saw a group of four teens, “[Listen guys, I don’t want any trouble,]” I said in fluent Japanese. Thank you ridiculous amounts of anime I watched when I was younger.

“[Well, well, well it looks like the foreigner cowboy knows how to speak something other than English,]” the third commented.

I looked at them closely, they had pipes, wrenches, and crowbars. This is one of the few times that I really wish I was packing heat but the law here says you can’t, “[I’m now a cowboy now? Then allow me to quote the greatest cowboy of all, a Mr. John McClain:] ‘Yippie-ki-yay motherfucker,’” I said before lunging at the group.

***

One fight later and I walked into a convenience store. A fight that I won by a landslide, what’s a bunch of undisciplined punks to a trained soldier? Those CQC training sessions really paid off. “Boy you look like you’re a man on a mission,” the Black male said from behind the counter. He looked a little older, may in his late forties. “Looking for something for your ladyfriend?”

“Wife actually,” I replied.

“Ah the love of your life. I know just the thing.” He ran into the stockroom and brought out a bouquet of roses and a heart shaped box of chocolates. “Go with these and trust me, I know what the ladies like,” he said before inhaling the smoke from his cigar. I paid him and walked out with my newly obtained goods.

The trip back to the hotel was uneventful and when I got back I was greeted by Spits. “Hey Andrew- what the hell happened?” she asked with concern.

“You should see the other guys,” I said with a smirk. I was bloodied, most of it was from the four punks, but they got some good hits in, mainly on my arms as a parried the attacks from their weapons. She helped me clean myself up. I then presented her with my two little gifts. Unfortunately she wouldn’t be able to take the roses home, customs and all, but the chocolate I bet would be gone before tomorrow night. That guy was right, he knew what the ladies like.

I ordered room service and we pretty much called it a night after that. Blame jet lag. The next “morning,” which was more like the early afternoon, we started planning our course of action. We knew for a fact which side of the building that the room’s windows were on, but according to city blueprints there wouldn’t be any windows to the outside in the bedroom area available to the public, so my spying through a window across the street idea is out.

The only other option is to “break” into the room and catch him in the act photographically and hope he comes to his senses and goes back to my sister. And if not, well I guess I could pull some strings and have him dumped on some desert island somewhere.

We sat in front of the TV watching whatever was on, to be honest I could barely understand what they’re saying because they’re speaking so fast, but I caught a word here and there though. When the sun started to set we left the room. We arrived at the hotel room and were ready to catch Eric.

“Got the camera running?” I asked.

Spits looked at her phone for a moment, “Yep.”

I pulled out the keygun and stuck it in the lock. After a few pulls of the trigger the door unlocked silently. I slowly turned the nob and let the door open. I could already smell the scents associated with sex. In order to get this he’d have to be here consecutively for several hours. I walked in to the main room and saw a woman, for the lack of a better term, ‘riding’ him.

“Hello Eric, having fun?” I said with a little venom.

“HOLY SHIT!” he yelled. The woman immediately got off of him and hid under the covers.

“Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt your sexy time with someone other than your wife?”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I walked slowly towards the bed, “It’s easy, you hurt my sister. Now either you’re going to fucking man up and get back with your pregnant wife or I’m going to leave you some place that has no women.” I then turned to the woman, “[Apologies miss, this bastard’s cheating on his wife.]” I turned back to Eric, “If you’re not on the first flight to LA you will regret it. Understood?” He nodded, “Good. Come on Sam, let’s get out of here.”

***

Meanwhile…

Three monitors sparked to life as two people watched them. On these monitors appeared heart rates, blood pressure, and other vital readings. All three subjects’ vitals were within acceptable parameters.

“So doc,” one asked. “What was in those cocktails anyway?”

“Vell zat’s quite easy. Stem cells, nanites, and ze gene therapy retrovirus. Ve have learned from our mistakes and will take zis slowly.” He pressed a few keys on the keyboard, “Ze experiment begins!”

Author's Note

I apologize for the massive delay. Massive chapter = longer wait. That and I took the ladyfriend out for Valentine's Day. She's happy therefore I'm happy.
On a random side note I might be getting partnered on YouTube so that's a plus.
And bonus points for this being my longest chapter yet (subject to change as new chapters get released).
The next chapter is going to be a fun and warm one since I hate the cold winter we're getting in the Midwest.

Revelation, because I can. Plus it adds some ominance to the chapter as a whole, or at least that was the intent.
Lots of dialogue this chapter.
No Andrew's not that OP, just opportunistic. Think about it. You have untrained punks versus a guy with training in hand-to-hand combat.
I have written my workaround for Season 4 episode 10 "Rainbow Falls," and yet it still works.
Also I mention this, now the question you need to ask yourselves is what is on it and how did it get there. I'm not telling, for now that is.
I channeled the spirit of a certain Halo character in this chapter, can you name that cigar chomin' man? Hint: he knows what the ladies like.
Some information was revealed, more will be explained on it later.

I'd like to think I caught all my mistakes, if I missed something just PM or comment it out and I'll fix it ASAP.

Chapter 20: Aloha*

Chapter 20: Aloha*

A/N: Ladies, lads, and gents may I present to you a fun chapter. Enjoy. Also there's a few suggestive scenes, a heads up on that too.

Chapter 20: Aloha

February 28

It is cold out. Way too cold in Vegas in the middle of February. We should be in the mid-sixties but it’s borderline freezing right now. While I don’t mind winter in this area of the US, I hate cold winters. It’s been getting colder and colder every year. I mean back in 2014 Atlanta got snow. That’s right, ATLANTA! I might have magic ‘angel’ personal climate control, but it’s still cold out and both Spits and I are feeling it.

Not too much happened over the last two weeks. Emily has filed for divorce against Eric. I mean who in their right mind would believe a plea of ‘it was a moment of weakness’ when it kept occurring for over three months? I’d say an idiot, but I would feel like I would be insulting people classified by society as idiots. I mean once can be forgiven if the couple really loves each other, but more than that is just insulting to the victimized significant other.

Valentine’s Day was great, or at least that’s what Spits told me. We were stuck on a layover in Japan so we went down to Okinawa and caught a flight at the US Naval base back to LA then flew ourselves back to Vegas. It was a long trip when it was all said and done, but to make it up to her I cooked surf ‘n’ turf. After that we watch a movie until around dawn and after adjourning to the bedroom we celebrated the day the way only a couple could. Gentlemen let me say this: if you treat your ladies right they’ll reward you.

I’m sitting at the kitchen island right now on my laptop looking at hotel and flights for Hawaii since I am sick and tired of this cold weather. One good thing about winter though is that I can have all the blinds and curtains closed and walk around the house with my wings out without worrying about anyone seeing me. Spits likes it too since she regularly wants me to give her wing and back massages. I started looking at the Hawaiian tourism site. They had listed the usual things you’d think of when visiting: beaches, surfing, hang gliding, snorkeling, scuba diving, and visiting various landmarks.

I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist and a head rest on my shoulder. “What are you up to?” Spits asked in interest.

“So I’ve been thinking…” I trailed.

“Hmm?”

“We should have a honeymoon since we didn't have one.”

“Where did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking somewhere warm, how about Hawaii?” I suggested as I scrolled down the tourism page. She looked at it with interest, I’ve got the metaphorical ‘hook’ in, now to reel her in.

“I like the idea of nice warm weather, but there’s one thing you’ve overlooked.” She then pointed to a group of people in bathing suits playing beach volleyball. More specifically to a young woman in a string bikini and a shirtless guy. “How would we hide our wings?”

I thought for a moment. Then it hit me, a win-win fix. I brought up Amazon and looked up wet suits, more specifically the top halves for her. “What do you think, would it work?” I asked hoping that she’d say ‘yes.’ I mean seriously, I need to get away from this chilly weather.

She looked at the page and used the rotation tool to see all sides of the product. “It’d be a bit tight… And the bones would most likely be obscured by the black material… I think it’ll work,” she said as she stood beside me. “BUT you won’t be able to see me in a bikini,” she said with a wink.

I stood up and wrapped my arms around her. “I guess we’ll have to remedy that now won’t we?” I replied.

***

March 8, 5am

A few weeks have passed since we had that discussion. Since then I asked my boss for this week off, as has Spits at her casino job. The only one that was a bit of a hassle was Hernandez. Yeah he was sympathetic to us, but he couldn’t let us go until the last sets of blood samples were taken, from both of us this time around. I’m guessing that they eventually want to implement this gene manipulation technology into specialized military units, but before they can do that they’d need FDA and other agency regulations to be in check. Especially since a lot of military implemented tech eventually finds its way into the civilian and private sectors.

I mean nine things that we encounter in our daily lives were developed by the military. A few notable ones are GPS, cargo pants, duct tape, the epipen, computers, and the microwave; so why should gene manipulation be any different?

But I digress back to the events at hand. Spits and I were in LAX again getting ready to board our flight to Hawaii. I was wearing the stereotypical tourist garb, sans camera. In other words cargo shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. Over the last two weeks I’ve been making arrangements for the trip. I got us the honeymoon suite at one of the hotels by the ocean and I already have dinner reservations arranged for tonight. I have other things both planned and to be pitched to Spits later for activities that we can do outside the bedroom.

Our flight was called and we boarded. Now it was time for another long plane ride.

***

Meanwhile back at Area 51…

The spy went into the mainframe room. The only person around was a maintenance man who eventually left for lunch, much to the spy’s content. He didn’t want any bloodshed to give away his identity until his orders were completed.

Once the door closed and the lights automatically turned off the spy moved to the nearest terminal and plugged in the USB drive he had installed on a previous excursion to the room, which started the backdoor virus.

Initializing backdoor.exe
Warning, file may contain hidden unsafe files. Do you wish to continue? Y/N
Y
Launching backdoor.exe
Loading… 10%

The spy leaned back in the chair and relaxed as the program did its preprogrammed job. A few minutes later while the viral ones and zeroes were being carefully sidestepping the ones and zeroes of the mainframe’s security. Once it reached 100% he leaned back forward and pressed ‘enter.’ Before him opened countless files of projects past and present, current and cancelled. He went straight for
the most recent files inside of ‘Project Angel.’ More specifically the ‘subjects’ portion of that file.

Subject Zero
Real name: Samantha Briggs
Age: 25
Role: Donor of original genetic material
Additional notes: Married to Andrew Briggs

Subject Alpha
Real name: Lt. Andrew Briggs
Role: Test subject
Project status: Success
Results: Subject grew two large wings theoretically able to fly with. Low level EM field detected around the subject’s body, investigate further.
Additional notes: Error in nanite programming caused accelerated wing growth. Subject had to be sedated until process was complete.

Subject Beta
Real name: Pvt. Natalie Everett
Role: Test subject
Project status: Failure
Reason: Retrovirus induced DNA did not take hold

Subject Gamma
Real name: Sgt. Taylor Jones
Role: Test subject
Project status: Success
Results: Increased strength and stamina
Additional notes: Test further to see maximum strength thresholds

Subject Delta
Real name: CLASSIFIED – HIGHER CLEARANCE REQUIRED
Role: Test subject
Project status: Failure
Reason: CLASSIFIED – HIGHER CLEARANCE REQUIRED
Additional notes: ERROR – DATA REMOVED

Subject Epsilon
Real name: Cpl. Alexandria Lang
Role: Test subject
Project status: Success
Results: High level EM fields detected. Subject was able to use telekinesis on a pen held by an attendant.
Additional notes: EM fields started low, but increased rapidly. Theoretically subject should be able to do more complex things in time.

The spy looked at his watch, the technician was going to be back any time now. He quickly copied the files to his flash drive, the rest of the files would one day be with his employers as well, but for today several files from ‘Project Angel’ were going to make a small trip first.

***

Honolulu, Hawaii

The plane landed at Honolulu International at 8am local time. That my friends is the miracle of jet lag and time zones. To me it feels like four in the afternoon. We managed to catch some sleep during the flight, it wasn’t all that restful, but it was better than the shitty movies they had playing. After our flight over to Japan I had the greatest idea ever for air travel: ear plugs. Yes there wasn’t any crying at all that I could hear.

After we disembarked the plane we were greeted by some attractive local women in grass skirts giving leis to the arriving passengers. They placed a lei on both Spits and I, and these weren’t the cheepo plastic flowers either, they were the real deal. That was nice of the airline to do. We took a taxi to the hotel and checked in. One elevator ride later and we were standing one floor below the penthouse suite, but at the honeymoon suite. As the bellhop opened the door for us the room opened up to show a large “living room” style main room that connected to a nice kitchenette. The main room connected to a two person table that sat next to a window that overlooked the city of Honolulu itself. I could just imagine what it would look like at night from here. Then off to the side was a large master bedroom that had champagne in a cooler and rose petals on the king sized bed.

I gave the nice bellhop a tip for carrying our whopping three bags up with us. He gave me a tilt of the hat and left us. Spits walked out on to the balcony that looked over the ocean feeling the breeze and I joined her.

“It’s beautiful,” she simply stated.

“Not as beautiful as you though,” I replied running my fingers through her hair.

She turned around and looked up before snapping back to look me in the eyes. “You are such a sappy romantic, did you know that?” she asked before planting a kiss on my lips.

“I know I am and you know you love it,” I countered with a smirk before returning the kiss. The moistness of her soft lips interlocked with my slightly not so soft lips. What felt like a low level of current ran between us as time seemed to slow down as we both focused on the pleasurable sensations running between us. Eventually we broke away after a need for air.

Spits hummed contently as she opened her eyes. “So what did you have in mind for today? I mean we do have a really nice bed sitting over there,” she said with a sultry wink while wrapping her arms around me.

“The only thing that I really had planned out was dinner tonight.”

“And what would that be?” I could tell that her interest had been peaked.

I touched her nose playfully, “That my dear is something that you’ll have to wait for.”

“So what do you want to do?”

I looked around. That bed was set for a romantic feel, that champagne was still there as well. “Well we have some good sparkling wine and some bed sheets I think need to be broken in,” I smirked as I picked her up in a ‘princess carry,’ I should trademark that to be honest. She even let out a little squeal in excitement as well. I carried her over to the bed and set her down. She grabbed the bottle while I grabbed the glasses. A moment later two full glasses were in our hands and toasted, “To us.”

“To us,” Spits echoed before drinking. She stood up and took off her shirt and bra displaying her breasts and wings. “Now, shouldn’t we get started?” she asked with the most devilish grin I’ve seen her with. To be honest I kind of like it.

***

Later that night…

Spits and I have sex regularly, but I forget sometimes how… excited she can get in bed. You know what they say, variety is the spice of life. And to be honest I’m enjoying married life so far, especially with an awesome wife as Spits. The limo took us through the starlit night to our dinner destination.

“Oh come on, tell me where we’re going,” Spits whined.

“Nope,” I replied for the umpteenth time. I made this into a little game, mainly because this was supposed to be a surprise anyway. “But I will give you a hint: it’s a very Hawaiian thing to do.”

She thought for a good ten silent minutes but wasn’t able to get a guess out because the limo stopped. We stepped out into the warm night air and as we walked she saw the lit tiki torches and put two and two together.

“A luau, you brought me to a luau.”

“Well it does seem to be the thing to do when you’re here, plus we’re supposed to be having fun. What’s more fun than watching fire spinning guys while you eat?”

The rest of that experience was fun. I got to watch the hula dancers, hey the rule is that I can look but can’t touch. Oh please we all do it at least once a day, ladies I know you do the same thing too. Spits seemed to enjoy the fire show. Eventually we made our way back to the hotel and we just sat on the balcony looking at the stars.

“Hey I have an idea,” I said breaking the silence. “Why don’t we go up to those clouds and watch the stars from there?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, one second I’ll be right back,” Spits said walking into the bathroom. She came out in a navy blue bikini. The top showed her cleavage perfectly and her toned stomach and buttocks were shown to me in a tasteful fashion. “Ready?”

She snapped me from my trance of staring at her very well shaped body. “Uh yeah, let’s go,” I managed to stammer out. The flight in and of itself didn’t take long, maybe a minute to get up to the cloud, and another five for Spits to shape the top portion of the cloud to be a little more bedlike. We sat looking at the stars. I pointed out certain constellations that only appear during the winter, then she would tell me of some constellations that would be around this time of year back in Equestria.

Eventually she climbed on top of me and kissed me under the full moon. Maybe that’s what has her in such a frisky mood? “Hey Andrew, how would you like to join the mile high club?” Ok I think this has just gotten better.

***

Later…

Spits and I laid next to each other cuddling naked on a cloud in the afterglow of another round of love making. Our swim gear had been scattered on our makeshift bed. It turns out whenever an angel wears something long enough part of their mana rubs off on it making it not phase through clouds. Of course for non-enchanted clothing this effect would only last a short time, maybe a few hours, before dissipating and the worn clothing becoming as they were before.

Our wings were wrapped around us in a feathered cocoon as we had a little pillow talk. “So Spits, are marriages like back home for you?”

She thought for a moment while she caressed my arm which was wrapped around her waist, holding her against me. “Well the ratio of men to women varies from city to city as well as the smaller towns. It seems as though women outnumber men about three to one in most small towns while in major cities it’s probably closer to one and a half to one ratio. Of course there are a few oddball towns out there with a perfect male to female ratio, but that’s usually the norm.

“As you can probably guess that leaves more women than men, so it is not that uncommon for polygamy to happen with at least two to three women per marriage to a man. Monogamous marriages also happen quite regularly as well. But there are some weird sub-laws for men who want to enter a union,” she continued.

“How so?” I asked as I lightly rubbed her thigh.

“They have to make quarterly ‘deposits’ at a sperm bank for female-female couples that want to have kids. It’s weird, but it makes sense in terms of the ratio of men to women in the long run. There’s also a law that states that sisters can’t be married to the same man to keep the gene pool as diverse as possible.”

“Those are some interesting laws. Anything on monogamous couples?”

“Just that they sign the proper paperwork at an official building and have it filed.” We lay there just enjoying the feel of each other’s warmth before we both just nodded off. We didn’t sleep all that long, just long enough for Spits’ legs not to feel like jello anymore and me to not be truly tired from our activity. Also on another positive note I can cross two more things off the ol’ bucket list: joining the mile high club, and a new addition being having sex on a cloud. Next up I believe is to drag race on the Autobahn.

We quickly redressed, luckily our swimwear didn’t faze through the clouds leaving us to sneak back into our room trying to hide our nudity from the world. I’d suck getting a ticket for public indecency and then I’d have to explain the wings, so yeah just a bad thing overall if we had waited longer. When we got back to the room we just stripped down and crawled into bed. Sleep came quickly to us as our shared warmth heated up the blankets. Spits cuddled up next to me and I wrapped my arms around her. I had a feeling of contentment, her breathing and holding onto my arm told me that she was happy too.

The next few days blew by. We went snorkeling in the clear waters of the Pacific and went surfing one day. We had to wear those wet suits for both, you know because of the whole wing predicament. Another day we went on a plane tour of the islands. I mean yeah we could have flown ourselves, but we got to sit back and relax as we saw the sights. We saw a waterfall that we later returned to that night for some more ‘alone time.’ And there’s another check off the bucket list.

The day after that we checked out the volcanoes. To be honest it was kind of boring, but seeing some lava was a bit interesting. It was like seeing Old Faithful, you see it once and that’s good enough. Later on that day we walked along the beach hand-in-hand letting the waves splash at our ankles. We watched the sunset on the east side, it was quite beautiful. There weren’t many other people here, the occasional person was still swimming and there were a few people gathered around a bonfire.

“Hey,” I said getting Spits’ attention. “I never really thought about it but why were you carrying a gun when we first met if Equestria is at peace right now?”

She held my hand as we walked along. “Well it’s standard kit for pilots. You never know where you’re going to end up. If you end up in a friendly populated area then you don’t have to use it or have to worry about it. BUT on the other hand if you end up someplace hostile or desolate and have to hunt or protect yourself to survive then it’s there.”

I nodded in agreement. “Our pilots usually have submachine guns like the MP7 or the P90, or any compact rifle for that matter, in their ejection kit in case they have to bail out over enemy territory. Luckily we haven’t have one of our pilots in enemy territory since a conflict in the Balkans almost thirty or forty years ago, but that’s missions that weren’t off the record.” We walked for a good while longer before we turned around and headed back to the hotel.

The next day we located a small island too small to house anyone. A sandbar really. We spent the better part of the afternoon and early evening getting intimate on the sand, the waves crashing over our bare bodies. I also knocked off another ‘tick’ off my bucket list. Yes I know a good ten of them are sex related, but I’ve got others like that Autobahn one. Visiting the Great Pyramids and the Great Wall are included on it as well.

The final day I decided to visit the USS Arizona at Pearl Harbor, mostly to pay my respects. After all, the generation that fought that war was and is considered the greatest generation of our time. Personally I still think that. They fought in the largest war and stopped a genocidal maniac amongst other things. As I looked over the balcony of the memorial I saw the main part of the island as well as Ford Island. In this ship no more than a dozen yards below me was the grave of 1,102 souls. It’s one of those surreal moments that makes you think that no matter how much the world changes and advances in technology war really hasn’t changed a bit. People still die, the methods and tactics have changed.

Later Spits and I were leaning on the railing of our room, tomorrow we’d have to leave. This left us time to think about our little visit in paradise. We had a great time, regardless to the fact that our hips, thighs, and loins are sore as ever. That hike yesterday was a pain after all we had done the previous night. We visited the sights, had local cuisine, a few mai tais, had lots of intimate times together without the interruptions of work or any other real pressing matters. Honestly I wish this could last forever, however all good things must come to an end sooner or later. Tomorrow we head back home to Vegas.

Author's Note

This was pretty much a filler chapter except for one major thing, our good friend the mystery spy returns. What shenanigans is he up to? Well I know and you shall find out soon enough.
Those things we use every day? Here’s the article I got it from: MentalFloss.
I dropped some social information about my theoretical Equestria, mainly in the relationship department. I thought that I would touch on it.
I did jump times a lot, well that mainly was because my mind was jumping around quite a bit and filing my taxes and the plausibility of my work schedule being swapped around tends to do that to you.

I am loathing this Midwestern winter and cold in general, hence the setting being in a warm paradise setting.
Just a general rule of thumb for productivity: don’t try to write while watching Game of Thrones, you just can’t do it. Which on a side note I managed to finish all of season 3 in a few nights, not that hard when there's only ten episodes to watch in the season.
Another thing that has caused this chapter to be a little later than usual is that I’ve been debating whether I should (more or less if I have the capacity and drive) to write those clop scenes at all. At this point though I still have no idea if I am going to do them at all. As you have read I have plenty of choices and chances to go from should I decide to.
As you may have noticed when you clicked on the story that there's been a few changes, don't worry it's all for the best. "The Slice of Life" tag as added since I noticed that there's a lot of dialogue and life goings-on. Another thing is that I've edited the short description to be a little better than it previously was. Right now the way it's phrased just seems right over its predecessor.

I would like to think I've caught all my errors and mistakes, should I not have go ahead and call them out and I'll fix them as fast as humanly possible.

Patch Notes

(6/1/14)
USB port: Edited to fit protocol a little more while increasing the whole spy vibe as well.

Chapter 21: Reunions Suck

Chapter 21: Reunions Suck

April 13

Have you ever had one of those days where you say, “I should have really just stayed asleep today?” Yes? Well I’m sort of having
one of those right now. How? Well let’s just start at the beginning shall we?

***

Twenty-four years ago…

“And push!” Ok that was a little TOO far. Let’s try again.

***

One week ago…

“Do you know why you are here?” Hernandez asked as I stood in his office. I honestly had no idea why I was in his office instead of down in the labs doing whatever it was they needed me for. Half the time I’m on my phone doing something or another. What was I playing the other time I was here? Oh yeah I think it was called ‘Deus Ex: The Fall’ or something like that. Fun game.

“No I do not,” I simply replied.

“It appears that the higher-ups want to thank you for your service during this project. Starting today you’re in charge of a new unit when it gets deployed, if at all.”

“‘If at all’ sir?” I was genuinely confused at this point.

“Well you are going to be the commanding officer of a unit of gene therapy treated soldiers. However we haven’t perfected the process to make it 99.9% effective for all recipients. And in light of your new eventual assignment, you’ve been given a promotion.” He reached inside of the desk and pulled out a pair of silver double bars. He held them in front of me, “Congratulations, Captain.” He snapped a salute and I returned it.

I took the pins and put them in my pocket, I’d add them to my dress uniform later since it was back home. “Thank you, sir.” I was then told that my combat uniform with new rank embroidery would be made available by the end of the day. Well it looks like I’ll be getting paid more, huzzah! Why I was just promoted I’ll never know, but it’s not like I don’t appreciate it.

Not much else happened the rest of the day. Spits and I went home and started to relax in front of the TV. Eventually dinner rolled around and since Spits has been learning a thing or two about cooking I’ve let her do something once or twice a week, other times either I cook or we cook something together. It’s sort of fun really, except for when you burn a broiled salmon. I still have no idea how that even happened.

As Spitfire was cooking I went out and got the mail and the daily newspaper. You’d be shocked how many people still get a normal newspaper considering pretty much every bit of news is now digitized available immediately on the internet rather than waiting twenty-four hours to hear about it. As I walked back inside I thumbed past numerous bills that I’d set aside later to pay, a credit card offer again, and then something that surprised me: a letter from my old high school.

“What’s that?” Spits asked holding a spatula in her hand.

“A letter from my high school,” I replied. As I read the contents I saw that it was an invitation to the class of 2014 high school reunion. I crumpled it up and attempted to throw it in the trash can, but Spits intercepted me.

She grabbed and uncrumpled it before reading it herself. “This is for your high school reunion, why don’t you want to go to it?” she asked.

“Let’s just say that I don’t have the fondest memories of that place.”

“Oh come on, how bad could it have really been?” she asked innocently.

“Do you remember my ex Heather?” she nodded. “Well she’s in charge of the reunion, and to be frank I’m still a little bitter about how she treated me.”

She came over and turned me around to face her. “Now listen here, you have a beautiful wife and a great job, not to mention that you just got promoted to Captain. Not many people have had that honor at your age, not even by Equestrian standards. So how about this: I’ll go get a sexy black dress and you can show me off to your ex and all your former classmates and let them wallow in jealousy,” she said before giving me a kiss.

“Umm… ok then?” I answered befuddled.

***

Present…

And that’s pretty much how I got here at my high school reunion. I was driving the rental into the parking lot that I knew so well from four years of driving into it. I parked and killed the engine.

“Are you ready?” Spits asked in her new black dress.

“Nope,” I simply replied. “I’d rather jump on the next rocket to the moon.”

“Aww come on it won’t be that bad. We’ll go in, show me off, have a few drinks, visit for a short bit, and leave. How’s that?”

“Tolerable,” I begrudgingly replied getting out of the car, putting my hat on my head. We came to the main entrance and I held out my arm for Spits to hook her arm around. “Well, here goes nothing.”

Right as soon as we went inside we were greeted by the nametag people, you know where they ask you to check in? I technically didn’t need a nametag from them since I already had one that came with my dress uniform, but I took it just to make them happy. I looked over to Spits and saw that she was happy to be here for me, then again she gets to show off her backless black cocktail dress and heels. How’d she manage to pull off a backless dress considering she has wings to hide? Simple, some experimental optical camouflage that’s supposed to be rolling out to elite special forces within the next five years. She got it reprogrammed so that it would display a non-winged back instead of what it was originally designed to do. All she did was place it over her back under the dress and press ‘on.’

We walk into the ‘ballroom,’ or should I say the gym and I could feel eyes watching us, well for multiple reasons. One there was a young ranking officer with a red-headed beauty attached to his arm. I’m thinking it’s mainly because of the second since I saw some guys getting dirty looks from their wives or girlfriends.

“Andrew? Is that you?” I heard a male voice from my left ask.

I turned to see my old friend William. “Hey Bill, how’re you doing?” I myself asked before bringing him into a ‘man hug.’ You know the kind where you start shaking hands but pull each other into a quick hug that lasts less than a second. What? He’s my best friend.

“Not bad. I just finished my scoring for a movie just recently and I’m just waiting to hear back from the director to see if it goes green or not. What about you? Looks like you’re moving up in the military world.” He looked at the pins on my shoulders, “Captain, right?”

“Yeah, just got promoted the other day.”

“And who is this lovely lady?”

“I’m his wife Samantha,” Spits chimed in.

“You got married and didn’t invite me? And here I thought I was your best friend,” he said with false mockery.

“It was sort of a spur of the moment thing,” I replied taking whatever liquor that they were serving. Tastes like punch with a touch of
vodka.

“What so you eloped or something?” Bill asked.

“Pretty much.”

“So what do you do in the Air Force?” The metal insignia on my hat must’ve given that away. “You fly anything?”

“I do a little this and a little that where I’m stationed. I’m always in the F-22 sims when I get a chance. I’m friends with a few of those flyboys and they sure look like they’re having a blast.”

“And what about lovely Samantha here, what does she do?”

“I’m a private contractor working a consulting gig out of the same airbase that Andrew here works at. In fact that’s where we met,” Spits replied. She’d better be careful, the more details you put into a lie the faster it’ll come down on you.

“So I assume you have a few stories that you could tell me.”

“Yeah there’s one where he ends up pointing a gun at me, but in all fairness I may have gone into his office and surprised him,” Spits pointed a thumb at me while letting out a small giggle while Bill wore a shocked look. “Oh don’t worry he wouldn’t shoot me.”

“Why don’t I get us something to drink?” I asked breaking the uncomfortable silence that had set in. They both nodded ‘yes’ and I walked away. They were probably talking about some of my less proud moments back in these halls. Which means Spits would be having a laugh at my expense.

“Well hello there handsome,” a very sultry sounding woman said behind me. I cringed as I grabbed the punch ladle. I knew that voice, and it could only belong to one woman.

I turned around and pasted the biggest fake smile I could muster on my face. “Heather, it’s so good to see you again,” I said with as much enthusiasm as one could seeing their former lover. Lord take me now. Or better yet her. “How long has it been? Six, seven years?”

“It certainly doesn’t seem that long.” She looked at my uniform, “So Air Force, what do you do?”

“Deep space radar telemetry,” I replied using one of the many cover stories prepared for us.

“That sounds boring, maybe I can make life a little more exciting,” she said trying to be as seductive as she could.

“That would be my job,” Spits said walking up to me, taking the red Solo cup filled with punch. “I’m Samantha, and you are?”

“Heather,” she replied trying to be as socially welcoming as possible. “And how would ‘making his life be more exciting’ be your job?”

“I’m his wife in case you didn’t notice,” Spits answered with what I assume is pride. Spits turned to me, “Wait isn’t she the one who-?”

“Yep,” I replied.

“‘I’m the one who’ what?” Heather asked accusingly.

“If I remember right you were the one that broke his heart in high school when he found you sleeping with another guy in your house on the same night you were going to go out on a date. But that’s if I got all the facts correct.”

I could see Heather’s eye twitch, Spits nailed it though. Almost as if the universe was playing with us ‘Ballroom Blitz’ started to play. “You bitch!” Heather screamed before lunging at Spits, fist extended.

“I wouldn’t do that-,” but my warning never reached Heather’s ears. Not out of concern for her, no out of the concern that Spits might get sued by an angry bimbo after what would happen next. Spits swatted the fist aside before pimp slapping her. You could hear the sharp crack of backhand on face. I saw few people watching the scene cringed as they heard the slap connect.

Heather fell to the floor, mainly due to her momentum. She rubbed her cheek while she tried to figure out what had happened. She did stink of alcohol after all. To an extent that was sort of hot. Oh come on what do you think guys like it when girls fight? Seriously though because I have no idea why it is.

“Uhh Sam, we should probably go now,” I said as I grabbed her wrist and started to drag her towards the exit.

I felt a hand grab my shoulder roughly. “And where do you think you’re going?” a deep male voice said behind me. He spun me around and before me was the hulking mass of ‘Jumbo,’ the biggest football player in my graduating class. Which in and of itself was a shock because he was failing half the year. I’m betting he got someone to go into the school’s system and change his grades so he could graduate, but that was just a rumor that was floating around

“To be honest, anywhere but here,” I replied with a bit of snark.

“You ain’t going nowhere until I get revenge for my lady.” Must resist urge to correct him on the misuse of double negatives and total butchery of the English language.

“Well your ‘lady’ was hitting on me, and she started it.”

He then punched me in the face. Well I guess I just touched a nerve. I took off my jacket and hat and handed them to Spits, “Hold these for me please.” I cracked my knuckles, it’s been a while since I’ve had a fight of equal strengths.

“Oh so now the weakling is going to fight me.”

I swiftly landed a blow straight to his balls with my foot. Had this been a South Park episode I would have yelled ‘Rochambeau!’ as I landed the blow. “Nope. I’m going to win.”

***

Meanwhile at Twilight’s library…

Twilight was frustrated. She had spent the better half of the last two months looking over the same equation that could be used as a power source if it could only be used in reality instead of theory.

“Aaarrgh! Why can’t I figure this out!” she cried to the heavens before setting her head down on her desk. She grabbed her desk lamp and threw it into the wall. Her frustration had finally come to a head.

“Twilight, what was that?!?” Spike asked as he ran down the stairs. Even he could see that Twilight was breaking down from the stress being put upon her. She managed to hide it whenever she was out and about with her friends; but in here, in her private sanctuary, she was able to express it freely.

“It’s nothing, Spike,” she said trying to pass it off.

“Well it doesn’t sound like nothing,” he replied taking a bite out of a sapphire. “Spill it.”

“Well it’s almost been a year since Spitfire’s been gone and I really want to get her back to her family, I really do. Why can’t these things be easy?” she asked as a tear fell from her cheek.

Spike walked over and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Twilight, there are things in this world that we can and can’t control. The Everfree is a perfect example of that. Sometimes we just have to admit that we can’t solve everything that we want to.”

She took that to heart, pondering it for a moment. She sat up and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Thanks, Spike. You know what to say and when to say it.”

Behind her a cracking sound started. “What was that?” Spike asked as they both turned around. Behind them where the lamp smashed into the wall was a hole. He gave Twilight the stinkeye.

She chuckled with a sheepish smile, “I guess I don’t know my own strength.”

Spike rolled his eyes as he walked over to the hole to clean up the wooden fragments that had broken off. He looked into the hole and what he saw confused him. “What is this?” he asked no one in particular, but that caught Twilight’s attention.

“Spike what are you-?” she trailed off as she saw it too. There was a black object with a glass surface that only had a note on it that said ‘Turn me on and see how far the rabbit hole goes.’ There was an arrow that pointed towards a small black bar. She picked it up pushed the black bar and on the glass appeared a topographical map with two dots, one that said ‘current position’ and another that said ‘destination’ that included map grid coordinates. “Wait a second...” Twilight trailed as she remembered every map that she had looked at at least once in her lifetime while in the Canterlot archives. ‘Thank you eidetic memory,’ she thought to herself.

“That is in the Crystal Empire!” she shouted, which startled Spike a bit. Twilight started gathering things into a pile franticly. “Spike, take a letter.”

***

Well that fight went rather well. And by ‘rather well’ I mean I won, but Jumbo got a few hits in. Now Spits and I are sitting at a bar with me holding a cold Sam Adams bottle to my jaw. “So do you think it was worth it?” she asked sitting next to me sipping a Long Island.

“Was it worth protecting my lady’s honor? You bet your sweet ass it was,” I replied before taking a sip of the beer I was using as a cold compress. I must’ve said the right thing because that earned me a kiss on the cheek.

“You certainly have a way with words, you know that?”

“And here you said I was a sappy romantic a month or so ago,” I replied with a smug grin.

“But you’re my sappy romantic,” she said before kissing me again, this time on the lips.

Author's Note

Did you catch the Stargate SG-1 cover story? If you did you have gained my favor; if not, oh well there’s always next time.
A South Park reference? Well I am playing The Stick of Truth so it was bound to be fresh in my mind.
The tree part? Inspired by a scene from Now you see me, the movie about the magicians that are trying to get into a secret society.
Yes and there was a Matrix reference there as well.
I have taken a liking to Sam Adams as of late, as I have Guinness as well.
I do realize that this was a more boring chapter, but with a bit of foreshadowing. What was that tablet PC (or iPad or android or whatever) doing in Twilight’s tree? Why was it telling her to go somewhere in the Crystal Empire? Don’t worry dear readers, all shall be revealed in good time.

Ok so this is to address a plausible future calling out of how Spitfire does not represent her TV counterpart. So when you think of a ranking officer you think of someone who is calm and collected and has the respect of the people in their charge. The Spitfire in the show does not show leadership from what I can see because all I saw in “Rainbow Falls” was a shit-ton of cockiness and not much else. May she have been ordered by good ol’ Celly to act like that on purpose in order for the key to be given to Dashie? We may never know but that’s just a random theory that shot out of my mind.
A second theory I’ve got cooking up is on the magic aura that belongs to the unicorn race, and by the transitive property the alicorns as well. The aura is colored based on their iris. Why would I think such a thing? In “Twilight Time” Sweetie was learning how to use magic, the aura she had? It was the same as her iris color. As I look back on it, it seems as though every unicorn matched the same, except Celestia and Shining Armor, they’re what we can probably guess anomalies. Perhaps it was on the animators’ part or some sort of larger theory all together. Isn’t thinking about stuff fun?

I would like to believe that I caught all my errors. If I did not go ahead and call me out on them and I'll take care of them post-haste.
On another side note: 19 likes and 20 favorites? Wow guys, I'm personally shocked I've gotten that many all things considering, but hey that's how all stories start and to be frank I'm happy that I've gotten your guys' attention so far.

Chapter 22: Bigger Than Us*

Chapter 22: Bigger Than Us*

Chapter 22: Bigger than Us

Area 51 labs, May 8

The two doctors looked at the monitors in front of them. A beeping sound accompanied by green text showed up. “It zeems as zough ze internal changes have been completed. Ztart phaze two, Steve!”

“Yes doctor,” he answered while punching in a few keys. “It is done.”

“And now ve wait,” he said touching his fingers together anxiously.

***

Crystal Empire tundra wilderness

The arctic winds whipped about, flinging snow and bitter cold air around the party of eight that trudged through the cold wasteland north of the Crystal Empire. One figure looked at a map in her hands and compared it to the device she held with it.

“Twalaght?” Applejack asked while shivering. “Are we thar yet?”

She looked at the device again, “Almost, it should be over that hill.”

“But that’s what you said three hills ago,” a certain cyan winged angel complained. Even her passive magic concerning personal climate control was having issues being out in this cold for this long with winterized clothing on as well.

“This time it’s for sure, the dots are close enough together that it looks like we’re less than one hundred yards away.” Twilight could hardly believe she was leading this expedition. It took quite a few attempts on her end to convince Celestia and Luna to approve the journey. Even though she swayed her much elder princess counterparts, there was one person that she couldn’t quite convince.

“Twi? The storm’s picking up,” the male voice said. “We need to finish this quickly.”

“Don’t worry Shiny, you’ll be back with Cadance soon enough,” Twilight countered with a smirk, unfortunately it was hidden under her scarf. “You know, you didn’t have to come along. We would have been fine.”

“I know, but mom and dad would never let me hear it if you got lost out here in the deep freeze,” he replied. “Also I’m pretty sure Celestia would banish me to the moon if I lost you out here, not to mention your element bearer friends.”

“Well I’m sure they wouldn’t be THAT bad. Well Celestia that is, but mom and dad would never let you live it down. Just like when you-.”

Shining cut her off. “I get it,” he said when he knew what part of his life his parents weren’t too proud of, but usually looked over unless they wanted to tease him.

They went over the hill of ice and snow, yet when they reached the bottom when Twilight stopped, there was nothing. “Well, now what?” Rainbow Dash asked rubbing her hands together, trying to keep warm.

“But… I don’t get it, it should be here,” Twilight stammered confused as could be.

“Twilight darling, we should head back,” Rarity said.

Twilight stood in the spot that the ‘destination’ was at. There was no way that this could be all just an elaborate prank. But that left so many questions like how did the device get in the tree in the first place, and why did it lead her here?

She slouched over, depressed that she had failed in this trip to find something. As she walked away she heard the glass screen chirp at her. She lifted it up and on the screen was, ‘Are you ready to proceed?’ And on the screen were two “buttons,” ‘yes’ and ‘no.’ She shrugged and tapped the ‘yes’ button, after all what’s the worst that could happen?

A rumbling started to move the ground. “Earthquake!” Shining yelled over the roar of the earth beneath them. They struggled to keep their footing as the ground moved. Then came the screeching of metal on metal that sounded like it had not been oiled in a long time. As Twilight looked to her right she saw an opening in the ice and snow, and the metal grinding sound was coming from it. Railings shot up around the sides of the opening and what looked like a pedestal rose from one side.

“Twilight, what’s going on?” Fluttershy asked, the fear in her voice was apparent.

“I don’t know,” she replied. Twilight looked at the screen and all it said was, ‘All ashore that’s going ashore.’ She just stood there looking at it like it was possessed, maybe it was. ‘Just get on the platform.’ It said after the last line of text disappeared.

“What is that?” Applejack asked.

“It seems to be a metal pedestal of some kind,” the last female companion said.

The entire group crowded around it. “Well what do you think it does Ms. Yearling?” Shining asked.

“It does have ‘ascend’ and ‘descend’ buttons,” Fluttershy said just loud enough over the howling winds.

Twilight and A.K. Yearling, more commonly known in the literature world as Daring Doo, looked at the buttons. “So they do,” Daring said. She reached one hand, her index finger extended, out towards the button. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” she said before pressing ‘descend.’

There was the sound of groaning metal as the platform slowly started to descend below the ice. When they got no more than
twenty feet under the surface the entrance above started to close. As soon as it did they were left with the darkness around them and the only light that was given off was by yellow flashing warning lights as they kept going down. Metal groaned again as they stopped at the bottom, lights flashed on which forced the group to cover their eyes for a moment.

When their eyes readjusted they saw before them what looked like a ship’s sealed bulkhead with a screen not unlike the one that Twilight held in her hands.

“Well THIS was a wasted trip,” Rainbow said in frustration that she had to miss napping back home for this.

“Not entirely,” Daring said as she approached the panel. “It’s waiting for identification credentials.”

The device in Twilight’s hand started beeping furiously. When she raised it up to look at it numbers were rapidly cycling before locking at a number. A minute passed before a ten digit number was left on the screen colored green. She slowly walked up to the screen on the wall and stopped in front of it. She slowly typed the number in on the keypad and the numbers showed up on screen.

“Twiley, what are you doing?” Shining asked as she put in the final number.

“Initializing retinal scan, please stand still,” a mechanical female voice said from the panel. Twilight saw a small blue flash that blinded her for a moment. She blinked as she tried to regain her vision, which came back a few seconds later. “Access granted. Welcome, Twilight Sparkle. You have been expected.”

“‘You have been expected?’” Shining parroted.

“You’ve got a good a guess as me right now,” Twilight replied just as confused.

The group gathered together before venturing down the hallway, as they walked down the lights lining the walls snapped on two panels before them. “That’s just eerie,” Applejack commented and the other girls nodded in agreement. As they reached the end of the lighted hallway there was another sealed door, on it was a floating transparent hologram like you would find in a science fiction novel or movie. As Twilight reached for it the green image turned blue before disappearing and the door opened with a hiss.

Lights in the room beyond started snapping on, illuminating it showing the group a larger version of the device in Twilight’s hands as well as a bunch of buttons below it on some sort of console. On the big screen text appeared, ‘>>Running “welcome.exe”.’

On it appeared a face that Twilight and her friends didn’t think they’d ever see. Her jaw dropped as she tried to comprehend what she was seeing. “But, how is that possible?” Twilight asked for the group.

“Hey guys,” the male voice said. “I’m guessing you weren’t expecting me now were you? But there’s something more important right now than that. Now listen carefully-.”

***

Briggs residence, late night

I was running, running from something. I don’t know from what, but I had to run I just can’t stop. Every time I turned around I saw the darkness coming, it overtook everything, absorbed all light that it came in contact with. Eventually it backed me into a corner and I pulled out my pistol, firing into the darkness in a futile attempt to hold it at bay. The darkness lunged at me and as I raised my arms to protect my face I bolted up from my bed drenched in sweat breathing like I had just run a marathon. My arm was extended holding the revolver Spits had given me for Christmas, I was aiming at the bedroom door.

As my breathing slowed down Spits sat up and looked at me with concern, “Andrew is everything all right?”

I started breathing slower again. “Yeah everything’s fine,” I replied as I placed the pistol back on my nightstand. “I just had a nightmare, that’s all.” I laid back down trying to get as comfortable as I could considering that my spot was still drenched with sweat.

“It must’ve been one hell of a nightmare for you to be thrashing about and pulling out your gun like that. Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. As my eyes met hers I could tell she was concerned. This was the third dream I’ve had like this since the beginning of the month.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning, I just want to get back to sleep.” We both said our ‘goodnights’ and settled back into bed. Spits pressed into me, holding onto me. I guess that was just her way of saying without saying anything that she was here for me.

I woke up the next morning still a little freaked out by that nightmare, but a lot more relaxed than I was at three in the morning. As I rolled over I felt that Spits wasn’t there, however I could smell the sweet smell of bacon lazily listing in the air. I got up and groggily walked into the kitchen. Spits was at the stove in her short-shorts that showed off her legs and long sleep shirt which made it look like she was wearing nothing if you viewed it at certain angles. I came up from behind her and wrapped my arms around her stomach while setting my chin on her shoulder.

“Morning,” she said to me. “Did you sleep well?”

“Fine enough,” I replied. I still sounded something like a zombie after all, I think I need some caffeine right now. “However the sweet, succulent, irresistible smell of bacon woke me up,” I said before planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Men,” Spits commented while rolling her eyes. I let go of Spits and started up the coffee maker. I recently restocked on Dunkin Doughnuts coffee so the choice was quite clear. It’s one of the few coffee house blends that I actually like even just black. I mean yeah I usually didn’t get the good stuff back when I was overseas, but you work with what you’re given. Did you know that you can eat coffee and then drink hot water and get the fastest buzz you’ve ever had in your life? Well you can.

Unfortunately for my head that’s not going to happen any time soon so I’ll have to do it the old fashioned way, in other words brewing it. The Keurig brewer is amazing, especially the latest models where it’ll inject cream or sugar, and in the case of the higher end ones: chocolate and caramel favoring. I put my favorite coffee mug under the spout, pressed a few buttons, and a minute later liquid fuel for people was flowing into the mug. As the hot black liquid ran into my mouth Spits placed two plates of eggs and bacon on the table. Breakfast was finished mostly without anything said.

“So how’d I do?” she asked.

“It was wonderful,” I replied before giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Just like always.”

“Well aren’t you sweet,” she said with a smile.

She came close with a small giggle to plant a kiss on my lips when my phone went off. “I should probably get that,” I said before pulling away.

“And you say I’m the tease,” Spits trailed as she took our dishes back into the kitchen. One of her red locks of hair trailing as she rounded the corner. She had grown out her hair and let it down, to be honest it’s a good look on her.

I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Emily. Now why the hell would she be calling me this early in the morning? Shouldn’t she be at work? “Hello?” I said as I pressed ‘answer.’

“Andrew!” Emily shouted into the phone, making me have to hold it away for a split second. “Oh thank God you picked up,” she sounded real panicky.

“Em, is everything all right? You don’t sound so good,” my own concern was starting to bleed into my voice as well.

“It’s Jenny, she just collapsed.”

I froze in place. I would have dropped my phone if it wasn’t lined with silicon around the edges of the case. “Em, tell me what’s going on.”

She sniffled and waited a few moments before speaking. “I don’t know. We are in the Vegas area since Jenny wanted to visit you guys and I had some frequent flier miles I had yet to redeem. One moment she was fine while we were driving the next moment she complained of a burning sensation on her arms and her back being on fire. Then she collapsed.”

I stood up and grabbed my keys, shoes, and jacket. Well I haven’t showered yet so a jacket would have to do. “Are you on the way to the hospital now?”

“Yes we’re almost there now.”

“I’ll be there shortly, you just keep your head on straight. Ok, sis? I’ll see you soon.” I hung up and turned around. Spits was standing there in the doorway.

“What’s wrong,” she looked just as concerned as I did.

“Something’s wrong with Jenny. Grab you stuff, I’ll tell you along the way,” I said heading out to the garage.

***

“Doc, this isn’t good,” Steve said looking at the monitors.

“Vat is it, Steve?” the doctor asked.

“The subjects, they aren’t in LA.”

“Vell vere are they?”

“Vegas.”

“Scheiße!” he exclaimed. “Call a backup team in, ve’ll handle it ourselves.”

***

Meanwhile in Canterlot

The eleven black cloaked beings walked down the hallway to the ruling sisters’ day court queue line. The tallest one amongst them left their hood up, obscuring their face. Several guards tried to speak to them, but with a subtle wave of the tall figure’s hand the guards would just turn around and forgot why they approached them in the first place.

The group spent several hours listening to snooty nobles complain about the smallest thing, or well one was complaining for the longest time on how he didn’t get enough money as an allowance from his aunt, who just happened to be Celestia. The figure wanted nothing more than to shoot him in the kneecaps, frankly the entire city might have thanked them for it. The figure had heard about some of the things that the one named Blueblood had done in the past. They were all despicable, even by her standards. From rumors around the city he has several illegitimate children that he doesn’t even pay child support for, or at least to public knowledge that is.

At last she and her group were called into the throne room. “Miss Prismatic Veil and her group,” the herald called as she stepped forward.

“Your excellency,” she said as she bowed slightly. She might as well be cordial about it.

“Ms. Veil, would you kindly remove your hood?” the princess of the sun asked politely.

“I mean no disrespect, your highness, but I have a defect that makes me… not look appealing to others, save for my company of course. I hope I’m not offending you in any way.”

She waved her hand. “Of course not, you are my guests here and I wish for my guests, regardless of social status, to be comfortable when approaching me. So tell me, what is it that you would like to request of me?”

“Political asylum,” the mysterious women replied.

“Now why would you need political asylum?” the princess asked with concern and a raised eyebrow.

“My government has become… hostile towards me and my people behind me.”

“Of course, but in order to do so I’ll need to know what you look like.”

“You may not like-,” she said raising her hands to lower the hood. Her voice switched to one that Celestia had no problem recognizing. “-who is underneath,” she finished.

Celestia’s eyes widened as her suspicions were confirmed. Underneath the hood was a human female that had splotches of hardened dark chitin scattered around her face. It would be safe to say that the rest of her body was like this. The telltale sign of a changeling in their natural form. “Chrysalis,” she borderline spat. “Guards!”

Three squads of royal guards stormed into the room, weapons drawn. In response the ten with Chrysalis swarmed to their queen drawing their own weapons from underneath their own cloaks pointing them at the approaching guards creating a three hundred and forty degree barrier of protection. The other changelings pulled the bolts on their weapons, loading rounds into the firing chambers, they all took aim, but never fired. The guards held their hands up, noticing that the changelings already had a bead on them and would be able to take them down faster before the royal guards could even target them.

“Chrysalis! How dare you try to take this city from me! You will not succeed,” Celestia shouted in her royal voice.

“Come now, would I ‘invade’ with only ten members of my hive? I meant what I said, I want political asylum.”

Celestia stood there dumbfounded. But it did make sense in a logical sort of way. Chrysalis’s drones were not aiming at her, but only at the guards that entered and Chrysalis herself did not draw any weapon to take her on with.

“But why?” she stammered out.

“Were you not listening earlier? My own hive has turned against me, the only ones still loyal to me are these ten,” Chrysalis said gesturing to her little group. “These are my elite guard, they swear loyalty to their queen from birth and will not renounce that oath until the day they die.”

“But how can an entire hive turn against its queen? The queen should have total authority-.”

“Over the hive unless another queen comes into the picture with a greater mental aptitude than the current queen,” she interrupted. “And it is commonplace for the new queen to exterminate the former queen, her guard, and any allies she can’t convert to her side to prevent incursions later on. And I would know since I did it to my own mother, as is the way of our people. To be frank, these ten are all I have left.”

“So the one that overthrew you was-?”

“My own daughter,” Chrysalis replied with a bit of pride but a pang of guilt and fear.

Celestia sat down on her throne, her head spinning. ‘Her own daughter tried to kill her? That would be like Blueblood usurping me and my sister to rule the land,’ she thought to herself. “Lieutenant Shielded Defense,” she called out to the group. At once a younger looking mage, perhaps around thirty, approached the princess.

“Ma’am?” he asked.

“Please prepare state rooms for our… guests.” He raised an eyebrow to question her actions, “That was a direct order.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said saluting. He waved his squad over and they left the throne room.

“Chrysalis, until we figure out if what you’re saying is true you are allowed to stay in the state rooms reserved for visiting dignitaries. You may visit your group whenever you wish, but outside of that you will be accompanied by one of my guards,” Celestia said to the former queen of the changelings.

“Understandable.”

“You are also to relinquish your weapons to-.”

“That is unacceptable,” Chrysalis interrupted calmly. “What if someone attacks us? How are we to protect ourselves?”

“That is why a guard will be stationed at your doors-.”

“But what if that guard had family or they themselves were harmed in the attack almost three years ago and want revenge? Or in the streets a mob tries to lynch me or my guards? In that case your guards would do nothing or will be able to do nothing. I suggest a compromise that we be allowed to keep pistols for self-defense reasons and in return I’ll tell you everything you’ve ever wanted to know about changelings.” She walked up to Celestia. “Anything. Our origins. Where our sleeper agents are posted. What we know of your defenses. Locations of other hives and queens. Anything.”

Celestia was shocked, “You would be willing to betray your entire race so that you may live?”

Chrysalis started to walk back towards her posse. “Have you never heard of the phrase ‘survival of the fittest’ or ‘knowledge is power?’” Celestia nodded. “Well in order to ensure my survival I am offering you power in the form of knowledge. Plus they betrayed their queen, so they have it coming. So what do you say, do we have a deal?”

Celestia pondered the implications of taking the deal. She would have all the positions of any changelings still in Equestria, but on the downside she may be condemning an entire race on the behalf of a member of their own species.

“I’ll have to think about it. Lieutenant, please escort them to their rooms,” she said to the guard. “Please let them know if you need anything,” she then said to Chrysalis.

“Of course,” she said with a smirk before leaving.

“And no prostitutes!” Celestia shouted after her.

“Killjoy!”

***

The ambulance arrived at the hospital and little Jenny was rushed through the front doors and into a room. “What happened?” a nurse asked.

“She just passed out after complaining about her arms burning and her back hurting,” Emily replied.

“Alright let’s take a look at the arms.” She rolled up Jenny’s sleeves and saw that the skin was starting to yellow in an intricate pattern. “What the-?”

“Oh good we’re not too late,” a man said pushing his way into the room with an older looking man following him in. “I am Dr. Jackson and this is my partner Dr. Heisenberg of the CDC, we’re taking that girl to a more secure location.”

“Why?” Emily asked with genuine concern.

“She may have contracted a very severe and contagious disease. We’re taking her to a quarantined location.” He looked her over as well, “You’ll also have to come along since you may have also contracted it as well without your knowledge.”

***

I raced down the streets towards the hospital, well as fast as I could considering that I had to still obey traffic lights and signals. As soon as we arrived at the front entrance I left the car under the carport. I would take care of parking it later as soon as I saw my niece. Parking tickets and points on my license be damned, family comes first.

I sprinted up to the front desk where the receptionist was taking a call. When she hung up she asked, “How can I help you?”

“Yes my niece should have been admitted not too long ago, I need to know what room she’s in,” I replied. She then asked her full name, which I provided. She typed it into her computer.

“I’m sorry, she was transferred to a CDC facility.”

“What?”

“Yeah two guys came in and just took her and her mother away because they had some sort of infectious disease.”

“Fuck!” I yelled in frustration.

“I’m sorry, I really am. If it helps the names of the two gentlemen were Dr. Jackson and Dr. Heisenberg.”

I paused for a moment. Then it dawned on me. “Oh you’ve got to be shitting me.”

“What is it?” Spits asked.

“Heisenberg is the alias used by Walter White on Breaking Bad.”

“So in other words-?”

“A fake name,” I finished for her. I turned to the nurse, “Excuse me was there anything interesting about Dr. Heisenberg?”

“Now that you mention it, yeah. He spoke in a really heavy German accent and occasionally saying a word or two in German instead of English,” the nurse said.

“You mean something like ‘zis?’” I said in my best impression of a very certain German scientist I knew of.

“With a heavier accent, but yeah that sounds exactly like Heisenberg.”

“Thank you for your time,” I said as a turned around for the car with a maddened step. I stepped back inside my Lancer and started up the engine. As soon as Spits got inside I immediately stepped on the gas.

“Andrew?” she asked with concern. She was gripping the door handle and the console as if her life depended on it. On a side-note she wasn’t buckled up so that’s probably why. “What the hell is going on?” she said as I ran through a red light.

“It’s that fucking German scientist,” I said angrily as I honked at some person going ten under the speed limit. “The one back at fifty-one.”

“How do you know it’s him?”

“Think about it. How many Germans with that heavy of an accent do we know of in the South-West that is also a doctor that knows enough about biology to fake a contagious disease?” I pulled the E-brake and drifted to straighten out to get onto the onramp of the expressway and gunned it. Soon I was going over the speed limit, rocketing down the freeway.

“Uhh, Andrew?” Spits said looking in the rear-view mirror.

“What?”

“You might want to pull over.”

“Why?”

“Well it might be better if you just look in the mirror.” I looked and sure enough there was a highway patrol car chasing us.

“Aww shit,” I said before throwing the Lancer into the next gear, shooting well over one fifty.

“Aren’t you going to stop?”

“Fuck the police. They can have me once I deal with that little piece of shit scientist.”

A few minutes passed and soon enough there was a small squad of cars following us along with a helicopter. Great. The cars tried to get close, but they could only get only three or four car lengths to us before falling behind. I then took the off-ramp that would take us to the base. I only slowed down for a moment but a squad car shot past us after I gunned the engine again. I saw the hill in the distance that marked the outer defense perimeter, you know where they determine what kind of a threat you are as you get close. Usually they do it with drones this far out.

***

The drone operator looked at his monitor for any threats coming towards the base. “Uhh, sir? We might have a possible situation,” he said as his supervisor came over. “We have a blue Mitsubishi Lancer quickly approaching the front gates, the plates belong to Captain Briggs.”

“And that’s a problem how?” the super asked.

“There’s a small contingent of highway patrol cars chasing it. Along with a few police helicopters.”

“I’ll get on the horn and have the colonel deal with it, keep watching for anything else.”

***

Well that was surprising. The helicopters peeled off turning around, they must’ve entered the base’s airspace. We shot past the base’s first line of defense and as soon as we did two Humvees sporting nasty looking M134’s that cut off the pursuing squad cars, causing them all the screech to a halt. I bet they’re getting the whole ‘You’re entering a restricted area, turn around’ speech right about now.

When I pulled up to the gate I was asked of course why I was there, I just said that I had a matter to discuss with the colonel. What I didn’t say was that might come later after some ass kicking first. I marched inside the biology labs and made my way to ‘Heisenberg’s’ lab. Before I opened the door I pulled my REX from my waistband. When I did finally open the door I saw my sister and niece in hospital beds with IV’s in their arms, it would be safe to say they were sedated.

I raised my pistol and aimed it at the back of the scientist’s head and pulled the hammer back. “Give me one fucking good reason I shouldn’t just blow your head off right here and now,” I said in the most intimidating low voice I could.

“Ah, Herr Briggs, vould you care to lower your vepion?” he asked with his hands raised.

“Not until you tell me why you thought it was a good idea to experiment on civilians who have nothing to do with this project.”

“Oh but zey have everything to do vith zis project.”

“Oh really? Enlighten me before I decide that this room’s white walls need a splash of red.”

“Security to the biolabs, security to the biola-,” the scientist’s assistant, I think his name was Steve, was able to get off before I shot the phone he was using. It was one of those ones you see in offices so I didn’t even hit him. He dropped the receiver once he realized that it was now useless.

“Come on, doc. I’m waiting.” I had maybe one minute before a heavily armed security team burst through the doors behind me. I shifted myself so that the doors were to my right instead.

“It’s all about genetics. Yours vere ze only set zat accepted ze retrovirus originally. All of our genetics based research ist based on YOUR DNA. Hence ve’re trying it on immediate family, if we can branch out ve can apply it to more people. You don’t get it do you?”

“Get what?” I asked.

The doors burst open, two riflemen had rifles of the M16 family. And yes they were both pointed towards me. “That this is the next step in human evolution,” a familiar voice said. Out stepped the colonel himself. “Now would you be so nice as to lower your weapon before we have to do something drastic?”

Spits placed her hand on my shoulder and gave me that, ‘it’s not worth it’ look. Pleading with me that I don’t do something stupid. Ok, more stupid that I already have done considering that I just lead the police on a high speed chase. I lowered it, but it was still pointed in the general direction of the German. “What FUCKING right do you have to experiment on someone who didn’t consent to it!?!” I looked at Hernandez and at the German, I really have to get his name assuming I don’t blow him away first. The colonel looked sort of regretful while the German, despite his current situation was beaming with pride.

“My God. He suggested it to you and YOU approved it. What the fuck is wrong with you? Testing genetic cocktails on civvies. Didn’t you stop to think and say to potential testers, ‘Oh hey I’m involved in this medical trial, if you opt in some cool shit may happen to you.’ Well of course you wouldn’t phrase it like that, but you get my point.”

“Captain, no matter what your vocation is now, the process has already been in motion for months now. It can’t be stopped,” Steve the assistant stated.

“Oh really, now how am I supposed to explain this to my niece and sister, huh? ‘Oh hey welcome to secret government facility fifty-one. Please enjoy your complimentary lunch and drinks, and oh yes you may have wings, psychokinesis, or enhanced strength. Please enjoy your stay and we look forward to you being our lab rats until the project goes public’,” I said in my best mocking tone.

“Captain, please understand that we won’t do anything-,” the colonel said.

“Get out,” I growled. “Get the fuck out before I do something I’ll regret.”

The two scientists walked out, they probably pissed themselves by now. They were followed by the two riflemen, leaving only Hernandez in the doorway. “This is bigger than us, bigger than all of us Briggs. Just remember that.”

“Just leave,” I said in a lower tone as I sat down next to Jenny, setting my revolver on the bedside table. She looked so peaceful, completely unaware what was happening to her right now. The door closed with an almost inaudible click as the colonel left.

Spits came up from behind me and massaged my shoulders, hitting that one pressure point on each one that helped relieve stress. “Don’t worry, it’ll be alright,” she tried to reassure me.

“It’s not me we’ll have to convince, it’s them. Yeah Jenny will jump up and down at the prospect of having wings, or ‘magic.’ But Emily, not so much. All it’s going to mean for her is another secret in the Briggs’ family history book.”

***

The northern wastes

The ancient metal doors groaned shut as Twilight and her group ventured back towards their dogsleds which would take them back to the Crystal City. The recording’s last words before it turned off left her with something on her mind that would not just go away.

‘Don’t worry, Twilight you’ll figure it out. It’s only a matter of TIME.’

The way he emphasized ‘time’ really irked her to no extent. Was there a double meaning in that statement? What was the device in her hands going to show her once combined with the ‘chip’ he spoke of?

“Oh I know!” Pinkie shouted above the howling winds. “It’s plans for a space faring space station that shoots giant lasers that blows up planets!” Her friends, Shining and Daring included just stared at her like she killed a puppy. “Just kidding!”

Twilight rolled her eyes at Pinkie’s antics. The only thing that was on her mind was how could-.

“Stop that thought right there, Twilight. If you think any more on that then the audience will have a major plot point spoiled for them.”

“Pinkie, how much sugar have you had today?” Applejack asked.

“About three pounds worth, why?”

“No reason.”

All Twilight knew was that whatever happened next with this discovery would be big, very big.

Author's Note

Sorry about the delay everyone but personal matters came up. By that I mean Titanfall, Dead Rising 3, and Assassin’s Creed 4. And by that I mean I got an Xbox One. And insert cheering or booing depending on your preferred platform of choice. That and I got some fillings and car repairs taken care of. Oh the joys of being an adult, am I right?
Random notes aside this chapter is filled with major plot points as well as drama that will carry over into other chapters.
It is a bitch to do dialects in writing instead of saying them, it really is.
The bit about the coffee? I learned that from a former instructor of mine who was in the Army. He would do that if he needed an immediate buzz.
A slight reference to Splinter Cell: Conviction's E3 trailer there, can you find it?
Yes Pinkie pretty much described the Death Star, sorry I just had to. I needed a little comedy especially after the whole Mexican standoff thing at the end there.

I'm also still looking for new cover art, inquire within if you're interested in submitting something or find something online that fits.

I’d like to think I’ve caught all my errors. If I am incorrect on that just make me aware of any errors and I’ll take care of them ASAP.
Also hit me up on Titanfall on Xbox One if you're into that, I left a link to my profile on my profile here.

Patch Notes

(6/1/14)
Heisenberg: I blame the song that started off the second season of Breaking Bad, it's freaking catchy.

Chapter 23: What Now?

Chapter 23: What Now?

I looked at my phone’s notepad app. On it were pros and cons to my family being injected with the retrovirus. My sister would be able to hide it since her job required her to dress quite conservatively, so any physical changes could be hidden. The scientists aren’t quite convinced that she was going to have magic or wings at all. Jenny on the other hand is a different story since she was still young and was growing wings. Until this program comes to light she’ll never be able to go out in public at a pool party, or to the beach, or any other outdoor place without the currently growing wings being seen.

The only upside of this right now is that they’re growing slowly, like an adult tooth coming in instead of my, and many of my fellow volunteer test subject comrades, quick and painful emergence when it comes to wings; and a burning inferno where the marks would appear signifying a mage. According to what I’m seeing this is what they want to happen for the first generation of gene manipulated humans, subsequent generations would develop in the womb. I looked up and saw a piping hot coffee mug filled to the brim being set down before a familiar set of hands started massaging my shoulders again.

“You’re so stressed out, you know that?” Spits asked as she pressed a little harder on one spot.

“Can you blame me?” I countered before sighing.

“What you need to do right now is relax and let ‘future you’ worry about what will happen later and let ‘present you’ relax since you can’t really do anything about what’s happening now.”

“I know, but I can’t help but worry. Will they be stuck here in these labs for the rest of their lives or be allowed to come and go as we have? If Jenny gets found out by others will she be labeled as a freak by her peers and isolated?”

“We’ll find ways to help her get through it. After all isn’t there a saying that says ‘blood is thicker than water?’”

“Yeah but the ‘water’ will drive her up the wall, I’m calling it now.” I closed my eyes and tried to rest for a bit.

“Hey Andrew?” Spits said breaking the silence.

“Hmm?”

“If Twilight manages to get a way to get me back home and is able to make whatever she is going to do work long enough to get more than one person through, do you want to come with me?”

I slowly opened my eyes and pondered what she was saying. Last time I checked a man stays with his wife until death. I would be leaving the rest of my extended family behind for forever most likely. I’d be pretty much leaving for parts unknown. From what Spits and Twilight have said it seems to be virtually a paradise on whatever rock Eqiuus is at in the universe. People have left their homes and countries before to head to ‘greener pastures.’ The colonists left Europe for the Americas. Men will eventually colonize the moon, then Mars, then the rest of the solar system. Who’s to say I can’t be the first?

“What if she can only get one person back?” I asked.

“Well then I’ll have her bring you there as fast as humanly possible,” she said with a smile.

“Hello?” Emily groaned as she started to stir.

I immediately stood up and went over to her bed. “Hey, welcome back,” I said.

“Where’d I go to be back from?” she asked deliriously. I’d bet my next paycheck it was the sedatives.

“Well you’re not in Vegas anymore.”

“What do you mea- oh hey Sam, how long have you been there?” she said finally noticing Spits next to me.

“I’ve been here the whole time,” she deadpanned. Yep, the meds are definitely messing with her. “So how are you feeling?”

“Sleep deprived, hungry, and not much else.”

“Do you feel any different at all?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No.”

“Huh, I guess no changes were made.”

“What do you mean ‘no changes were made’?”

“You know how I volunteered for that program?”

“Yeah,” she replied slowly.

“Well… the same guys may have injected you and Jenny with a gene therapy cocktail,” I quickly finished up. Wincing at what would happen next.

It seemed as though the sedative wore off instantly in that moment because Emily looked immediately at me. “WHAT?!?”

Almost as if God were intervening, Steve walked in. “He did it!” I blurted out before sprinting out of the room. Rounding the corner I slipped on the freshly waxed floor landing on my shoulder. “Oww, mother fucker,” I groaned. Damn you worn soles

Spits peeked out from the doorway. “Are you alright?”

“If you’d get me an ice pack or a cold soda that’d be dandy.” I could see in the eyes of a guard that he was laughing on the inside. I may have discreetly flipped him the bird. I heard yelling from inside the room, Steve was getting ripped a new one. I heard an impact on the wall. I looked up and saw a silver food tray sticking out of the wall. Even that one guard took an interest in that.

“Did that go through-?” I started.

“A metal support beam? Yeah,” the guard finished.

“Damn,” I said for both of us as we glanced at the tray.

***

Meanwhile in the Crystal Empire…

Twilight sat on her bed in her guest chamber examining the little men’s wallet-sized device. “What secrets do you hold?” she asked as she looked at it in every angle she could. She set the device next to the small ‘tablet,’ as it was called. There was a small chirp and on the screen it said, ‘Pair devices?’ She hit ‘yes’ and one screen it said ‘successful’ before saying ‘No memory chip detected.’

“Now where would I find something like that?” she muttered in frustration. To her this was another enigmatic puzzle. There was a knock on her door and she walked over to answer it. Before her was one of the Crystal Guard. “Yes?”

“Princess Cadence would like to inform you that dinner has been served,” she said bowing.

“Tell her I’ll be there in a moment,” Twilight said politely.

“Of course, Princess,” the guard replied bowing again before leaving her. She still had trouble having people calling her ‘Princess’ regardless of the fact she was one. In fact it made her extremely uncomfortable when people bowed to her whenever she passed them. In fact she asked the citizens of Ponyville at a town meeting to treat her like all their other neighbors, mainly to keep her from going insane and beating her head against the wall in an attempt to forget about it. The only people she allowed to bow to her were the guards because technically it was part of their job, and those on official royal business.

She placed the small wallet sized device in her jacket pocket and she made her way down to the dining room. Why was she wearing a jacket? Well crystal isn’t the best insulator for heat, maybe for power conduits for all the gadgets that the Crystalline make, but not for heating this far north. If Cadence and Shining weren’t the rulers Twilight would assume that the heating bills for the palace would be astronomical.

She walked into the dining room and at once eight sets of eyes looked at her. “Twilight, thank you for joining us,” Cadence said as one of the attending guards pulled out a chair for Twilight.

“Sorry I didn’t come down right away,” she replied as she took her seat. “I was just thinking about this thing and how to use it.” Twilight then took the little device out of her pocket, showing it to those present before replacing it back inside her pocket.

“What is it?” Cadence asked.

Twilight took a bite of her Istallion salad. “I’m not quite sure. But he said that it would be the key to solving my issue in getting Spitfire back home.”

“May I take a look at it?”

“Sure,” she replied as she wrapped the device in her aura and levitated it over to her sister-in-law.

“What does it do?” Cadence said as she started examining the device herself.

“It seems to be some sort of device that reads ‘memory chips,’ but I have no idea what they look like since there isn’t one left inside for reference purposes.”

“Interesting,” she said before her finger ran along a slim depression. “What’s this?”

“What’s what?”

“This,” Cadence said showing the slim cut-out on the device.

Twilight stared at it, “I feel as though I’ve seen this shape somewhere before… and recently too…” She ran though her memories trying to remember where she had seen something similar. When it came to her, she stood up suddenly and said, “I got it!”

“What do you mean, Twilight?” Rainbow asked, with her cheeks stuffed full of pancakes.

“Do you remember what he had with him in the recording?”

“A shirt with a band name on it?” Rarity asked.

“A glowing screen with a large amount of words that were too small to read?” Fluttershy added.

“Oooh! Was it cereal box containing a double prizer?” Pinkie asked.

“Ah dahble prizer?” Applejack asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, when a cereal box contains more than one prize in it!”

“Ok then, getting back on topic,” Twilight said. “He was holding necklace. One with a small. Clear. Square. Stone. Now where have we seen something like that before?” No one said anything. “Applejack would you mind showing us that family heirloom that you always wear?”

“Uh, ok Twi,” Applejack replied. “But Ah have no idea what yer gettin’ at.” She pulled it out and dangled it from her hand.

“Now does it look familiar?” she let the room stew for a moment. One by one they realized what she was getting at.

“Wait. So yer sayin’ that-.”

“The necklaces are the same,” Rarity finished. “Of course. The dimensions and clarity of the crystal is exactly the same as the one in that movie, albeit he was much larger than a normal man due to the projection.”

“I’ll be right back,” Twilight said before teleporting back to her room, grabbing the tablet, and teleporting back all under a minute. She sat the reader next to the tablet and waited for them to connect. “Ok, Applejack. May I borrow your necklace?” The cowgirl handed over her family heirloom. “Thank you.”

She aligned the crystal with the slot and pushed it in gently. When it was fully inside the crystal started to glow an electric blue and the words ‘Memory device detected’ appeared, as did some other choice words.

“Encryption software active, please enter password,” Twilight read off as the group gathered around her, waiting to see what would happen next. “Where one mystery ends another begins,” she sighed before slouching in her chair.

“Twilight you said so yourself that he wanted you to find this. I’m going to guess that the password locking the contents isn’t going to be some obscure thing, but something you’ve seen him with or something that you know,” Cadence said reassuringly to her sister-in-law. “Now think.”

“Well he did say in the message that it was ‘a matter of time.’ So ‘time’ would be my first guess.” She typed it in using the touch screen and hit ‘enter.’ The tablet made a buzzing sound and the screen flashed red before displaying ‘Password is incorrect. Four attempts remaining.’ “Ok I guess that wasn’t it. What else is there?”

“You could try the name of the band on his shirt,” Rainbow suggested.

“Ok. ‘K-o-R-n.’ What a weird way to spell corn though,” Twilight said before pressing ‘enter’ again. Again it buzzed and flashed red before displaying the same message as before, but with only three attempts remaining this time. “Ok that didn’t work.”

“What about his name?” Fluttershy said just loud enough to be heard.

“Ok…” Twilight said entering it. Again the same happened. “Nope. Only two attempts remaining now.”

“Ooo! ooo! I know!” Pinkie said jumping up and down. “It’s ‘password.’”

“Pinkie, there is no way that-.” Twilight trailed as she typed it in deciding that it was easier to amuse her hyper friend rather than question her. The tablet chirped and the screen turned green with the words ‘access granted’ on the screen. “Pinkie, how did you-?”

“What? It was either that or ‘guest,’” she said before backing up a bit.

“Ok then.” Twilight then opened the only file on the device. It popped up on the screen, “What is this?”

“Some sort of blueprints?” Shining commented.

“It seems so. Wait there’s a note here, ‘needs to be made of…’” she paused as she did a double take of the material. “I don’t recognize this element.”

“What does it say?” Cadence asked.

“An alloy of Ti and Tr. I know that ‘Ti’ is titanium, but ‘Tr?’ I have no idea what that is,” Twilight replied as her finger slipped and tapped the ‘Tr’ text. At once an atom showed up on the screen. “Woah.”

“What is it, Twilight?” Rarity asked, she was just as confused as everyone else in the room.

“This element has more valence electrons than any known element on the periodic table. See, it has at least one hundred and twenty-two of them.”

“Well this leaves us in a bit of a pickle,” Applejack commented.

“Hold on, what’s this?” Shining trailed. “‘Property of the United States Air Force,’” he read off the bottom.

“Wait, isn’t that Andrew’s country?” Fluttershy asked.

“Yeah, and the branch of the military he’s in?” Rainbow added.

“Now why would these plans be here?” Twilight asked.

“Well we could always ask,” Pinkie said causing all eyes to land on her.

***

Well Emily had enough time to cool down. Apparently she was strong enough to throw an aluminum food tray straight through a solid steel support beam. All we had to say was ‘damn.’ Just for shits and giggles we had her bend a piece of rebar. Ok, we may have had some money riding on it. I won.

“So Em, how are you feeling?” I asked. She was still in bed with an IV drip still in her vein.

“How did you deal with it?” Emily asked back.

“Deal with what?”

“You know what I mean. Having wings and having to hide them all the time.”

“Well I personally go out and fly at least once every two days at night just to keep myself from getting twitchy.”

“Ok then.”

“I mean it’s pretty easy to hide, but sitting in chairs is a little uncomfortable. Besides, Sam has it worse off than I do though. I mean just her trying to be comfortable in a bra designed for people who don’t have wings looks uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, back home they have clothing specialized for angels. Having to modify my current wardrobe isn’t all that pleasant; but it’s it comfortable since it’s all custom work,” Spitfire added. “Clothing aside, it seems as though you’ve gained the strength of an earthborn.”

“Earthborn?”

“Yeah they’re extremely strong and good with their hands. In fact it was an earthborn engineer that figured out our first car engine.”

“That’s quite impressive.”

“Hello~?” a familiar female voice said from nowhere.

“Who was that?”

“Twilight?” I asked the room, since her voice was sort of coming from nowhere.

“Andrew, I need your help.”

“Who is that?” Emily asked.

“That’s Twilight. Twilight, my sister Emily. Emily, Twilight,” I answered.

“It’s nice to meet you Emily, but Andrew I really need your help. I need to know what this element ‘Tr’ is. I can’t find it anywhere on our periodic table,” Twilight replied.

“Hold on, I’ll look it up on my phone. Nope doesn’t exist.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t exist!?! The blueprint that this metal is needed for has the stamp ‘Property of the United States Air Force’ on it.”

“Wait, what? Is there a reference number or anything on it?”

“No, there isn’t any number, but it has a heading of ‘Project: Aperture.’”

“Well what does it do?”

“In layman’s terms it can open rifts.”

I sighed. “Well that’s enough to go off of but that sounds a lot like something that the physicist geeks would work on. No offence, Twilight.”

“None taken, I think.”

“Well ‘call’ back in a few hours, I should have something by then after I talk to the R&D guys.”

“Will do,” she said as her voice started drifting off into the ether. Great, now I have to find a science type that knows what this element ‘Tr’ is.

***

Spits elicited to stay with Emily for some girl talk, probably to help her through this ‘transition’ period. I also think she’s waiting on waiting on Jenny to wake up. She’s sure to have questions, that’s for sure. I opened the doors to the R&D wing and at once all the computer monitors were turned off, which last time I checked was standard procedure for someone who doesn’t have clearance to see something or another.

“Hello ladies and gents! Who here knows what element Tr is?” I said loud enough for the entire room to hear. A lot of the people in the room just turned back slowly, disregarding me while one scientist rapidly turned back to his workstation. Bingo, that’s my guy. I walked over to his desk and sat right on it. “Hello there, I could see that you broke eye contact quite quickly with me. Care to tell me what ‘Tr’ is?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he answered quickly.

“Oh I think you do,” I countered smugly. “You can’t lie to me, even if you tried your darndest. So tell me, buddy, what is element Tr.” He sat there in silence, a very uncomfortable silence. “Or I could talk to the base commander and have you talk, but that'll take time out of my day that could be used elsewhere doing something useful. Should you say something now we’ll just cut out the middle man.”

He sighed. “It’s called Trinium,” he said almost inaudibly.

“What? I didn’t quite hear you,” I said holding my hand to my ear.

“It’s called Trinuim,” he said louder.

“What is it?”

“It’s an element which when added to another in an alloy, such as steel or titanium makes the alloy stronger and lighter than being made entirely out of the base metal.”

“Where did it come from?”

“Over the last few decades we’ve found deposits in meteorites that have landed. There was a large deposit in Tunguska, Russia that we managed to get a few tons of after the Soviet Union fell. Unfortunately with the whole power struggle and the incident with Putin and Crimea it’s been borderline impossible to get any more.”

“So in other words it’s ‘not of this world’?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Since we haven’t found a natural deposit on Earth that would be a fair assessment.”

I let out a breath. “So what does it look like?”

“Well it’s like metallic chalk in an unrefined form, unsuitable for any building materials. However when refined and added to another metal the alloy becomes hundreds of times stronger and hundreds of times lighter as I’ve stated before. It would be perfect for building fighter jets, naval vessels-.”

“Space ships?” I jokingly added.

“Actually, yes.”

That made me take a pause. “Wait, what?”

“Well we’ll eventually have to leave this blue marble and venture into the galaxy, and we’ll need ships capable of interstellar travel that can last a long time and survive micrometeoroid impacts flying faster than a gunshot and be able so be able to survive faster than light travel speeds without disintegrating.”

“Well good luck with that.” I hopped down from his desk. “Anywho have a good one.” And with that I walked back to the biology labs. As I walked back towards the rooms I saw something on one of the desks. “Hello~,” I said reaching for a vial.

“Don’t touch that!” someone shouted making me recoil.

“Ok. Jesus, man just calm down. What the hell is in that anyway?”

“It’s a chemical that messes with the memory centers of the brain related to facial cognition. So in other words if you were exposed to it I could have said that that I was the Queen of England and you would have not only believed me but you would have replaced my face as the Queen’s and it would have stayed that way until the counter agent is administered.”

“Ah, fun.” I said walking away cautiously. I knocked on the door to the observation room.

“Do you have any sevens?” I heard a young girl ask.

“Go fish,” Spits replied.

I walked inside to see that Jenny had finally gotten up. Her back looked as though it was wrapped up, no surprise there. However she was up playing go fish with Spitfire while Emily was napping away, so that’s a good thing.

“Hey you two, how are you doing?” I asked.

“Well little miss sunshine woke up here shortly after you left and we’ve been playing go fish since, Emily went to sleep not to long ago. She’s quite the card shark,” Spits answered with a grin for Jenny. “So how did your search go?”

“Good actually, I found out what ‘Tr’ is. It’s called Trinum, or at least that’s what the guys down at R&D are calling it for now. Anyway when it’s added to another metal in an alloy it strengthens it tenfold as well as making it lighter than other alloys.”

“That sounds a lot like mithril,” Spits said after a pause which was used to set down a set of four cards.

“You mean like the mythical metal as seen in Lord of the Rings?”

“Yeah. Legends of the old lands tell of a metal that was brittle to the touch, but when added to steel made it almost unbreakable and would keep a razor sharp edge for years with heavy use without sharpening.”

“Well I guess we have some news for,” I leaned in close. “Twilight,” I then leaned back. “When she tries to call us again.”

“Who are you talking about?” Jenny asked.

“No one, hey do you have any Jacks?” Spits asked in return in an attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere.

Their game continued and I turned on the TV, yes they were kind enough to have a TV in the room for them.

“Late breaking news! Tensions with Russia have escalated as Russian troops have gathered near the borders of Afghanistan. US troops stationed there have been put on high alert. In other news, North Korean leader Kim Jon Un issued another threat of war with the US and South Korea today if the US would not withdraw their support of the democratic nation.”

“Well that’s pleasant,” I muttered before I turned the channel.

Shortly after that Twilight decided to ‘call’ us back. I told her about the trinium as well. She echoed what Spits said about mithril, so apparently that mineral is abundant wherever they are. So getting it should be not THAT difficult for them. Apparently on their periodic table it was a different atomic weight or something, I wasn't paying attention. It was something that I sort of tuned out since I’m not that much into metallurgy.

“Well we have the blueprint, next we’ll have to find a large enough deposit of ore to make it. I’m going to guess right away that since we’ll need a huge amount of power there will need to be an anchor on your side,” Twilight said.

“An anchor?” I asked. The imagery of a ship's anchor landing out of a portal and Spits climbing it popped into my head.

“Yes. It would be a powered ‘terminal’ if you will, it would stabilize the rift long enough for Spitfire to walk through.”

“Would it be possible for more than one person to come through before it closes?” Spitfire asked hopefully.

“Well theoretically it would be possible for more than one person to cross. Of course we’d need enough power to do it.”

We said our goodbyes and Twilight’s voice dissipated. Luckily Jenny had already fallen asleep so she missed the entire conversation. I mean try explaining an ethereal sounding voice coming from nowhere, half of the people would claim that there was a ghost while others would swear that we were crazy. She said she would contact us as soon as possible to let us know where to place the anchor and when the window would open. There’s something to look forward to. In the meantime there was nothing else to do but wait.

I looked over to my sleeping niece, she had no idea what was happening to her. On one side it was a great thing that would help shape the rest of humanity, while on the other it would be a bane for her in society until the rest either adapted or shunned it completely. Only time will tell. The worst of it was that I might or might not be around for it.

Author's Note

Yes I made a pony pun, I promise I won't go overboard on them.
There's a Scrubs reference there. Well it happens when you’re watching a full on marathon through Netflix while writing the chapter.
And there was an Archer reference as well.
Not to mention a Portal reference as well.
Also a slight Stargate reference, damn I love that show.
Also remember that I never mention something without it coming up later. Cue the Chekov’s Guns.

Anywho it might be a while until the next chapter gets up since my company’s birthday is coming up which means two mandatory overtime shifts of 13 hours each. Yeah, I’m not looking forward to that at all. The kicker is that I'll only get one day off between that and my birthday, which I have to work on. Yippie. Feel the enthusiasm.
So I'm going to try to get a shorter interlude chapter in which will lead into the main beef for the setting for the subsequent chapters.
Again accents are a b*tch to write rather than say.

I’d like to think I’ve caught all my mistakes. If I haven’t just call me out and I’ll fix them ASAP.

Chapter 24: Best Laid Plans

A/N: As promised a shorter interlude chapter due to a lack of time this week. You can call it filler if you like.

Chapter 24: Best Laid Plans

When the Lamb opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature say, “Come!” Then another horse came out, a fiery red one. Its rider was given power to take peace from the earth and to make people kill each other. To him was given a large sword.
Revelation 6:3+4

Canterlot Castle

Prince Blueblood, one of the last known descendants in the line of the Platinum family, walked the halls of the castle. His mind filled with last night’s latest conquest, she was some supermodel mage from Manehatten who just so happened to catch his fancy. He had left her at the hotel hours ago after he enjoyed himself.

As he passed a corridor he heard two maids talking. He decided to stay and listen. “Hey did you hear about new guests in the diplomat suites?” one asked. She was hovering near a chandelier dusting the crystal.

“Sort of,” the other replied. “I heard they approached the princess the other day and asked for asylum.”

“Then they were all in black cloaks too. It was pretty creepy,” she replied fluffing a pillow in an adjacent room. “I heard that she and the princess had some sort of beef with each other.”

“Who has any kind of bad blood with the princess other than Chrysalis, former king Sombra, and that griffin emperor from a few hundred years ago?”

“I have no clue, but I caught a glimpse of her face under her hood, she looked quite beautiful. However it looked like she had been burned, she had black splotches everywhere on her face.”

“Well that’s too bad. She’d have many suitors lined up.”

Blueblood turned back around the corner ignoring the rest of the maids’ conversation. He recognized that description enough to look into it. Last time he checked the only beings that had black splotches like that were Changelings that couldn’t decide on a form to take.

***

“So tell me,” Celestia said. “Tell me why you’re stuck half-way between a Changeling and what seems to be the physical appearance of my niece Cadence?” she finished asking as she poured tea from the porcelain kettle for both her and Chrysalis.

“In case you forgot your niece and her husband blasted me with enough love powered magic to essentially scramble my shape shifting powers leaving me this mix of Changeling chitin and whoever’s form I took prior to exposure,” Chrysalis replied taking a drink of the tea. She didn’t need it, but she needed to play nice in order to keep her political asylum. “It’s not as though I don’t like it, but you work with what you’re given.”

“Interesting. Are you sure your guard doesn’t want anything?”

Chrysalis looked back at her one bodyguard waiting patiently near the door, waiting for his mistress. “He’ll be fine. What else do you wish to know?” she asked before taking a drink herself.

“Where is your former hive?”

“It’s-,” was all she was able to get off before a blast of sickly green magic poured in through the open window and hit Chrysalis in the chest. Her eyes rolled up into her head before she collapsed to the ground. Celestia knelt down next to her and checked her pulse. Chrysalis’s guard fired three rounds out of his pistol, one managed to hit a flying changeling drone in the arm. It flew away into the distance, far out of the range of his weaponry.

“Traitor,” he spat, holstering his pistol. He knelt down next to his queen and held his hands over her currently motionless body. Green lights started to glow under his cloaked arms and shortly after so did his hands.

“What are you doing?”

“What needs to be done,” he replied, his voice strained. Chrysalis’s body was enveloped in the same sickly green aura that his hands were. A few minutes passed and while a squad of guards surrounded them he was completely unaware of their presence. Soon Chrysalis wasn’t looking pale anymore, her breathing normal for someone who was unconscious. He ended his spell but started coughing up blood.

“You’re dying,” Celestia stated as she caught Chrysalis’s bodyguard from falling. “Hold on, we’ll get you help.”

“It’s too late. That was an assassination spell that makes the target experience excruciating pain before it kills them slowly. I merely transferred it to myself. I failed my queen already allowing her to be harmed. It’s only right that I die in service to my queen,” he said before slipping into unconsciousness himself.

“Quickly, get them both to the infirmary!” Celestia commanded. One guard hesitated for a moment, but since it was a direct request she did it anyway. They teleported away, leaving Celestia to her thoughts. ‘How did this happen?’ she asked herself.

***

A few minutes later…

The daughter of Chrysalis sat on the throne once occupied by her mother. She filed the ends of her claw-like fingers to a fine point, inspecting them for any defects. A wounded drone entered her throne room, a bullet wound in its chest. It kneeled at the bottom of the stairs in front of the throne.

“Is it done?” she asked, not once looking at the drone.

“Yes, my queen. The former hive queen Chrysalis is no longer among the living,” it said hiding its pain.

“Good. You are dismissed,” she said, waving it off.

“Your highness,” it said before standing up and leaving the room.

‘Now to move onto phase two,’ she thought. She held in her hand a very compromising photo, ‘It’s nice to have friends in all the right places,’ a smirk came to her face as she looked at it.

***

Meanwhile back at Area 51…

The spy knew what was going on and what would happen next with the project he was watching. He walked into the biochemistry wing to a specific workstation and chatted up the female technician working at it. While she was distracted he reached over and pocketed a specific vial of clear, odorless liquid.

Taking up enough of the technician’s time he bid her adieu and left. He then walked into the men’s bathroom stall and looked at the vial. Inside it lead to the next step in his assignment.

***

Kremlin, October 30, 2021

“[Sir, the Americans are up to something],” a young analyst said to his superior. In front of him was a computer screen with satellite imagery of a gathering of US soldiers in Alaska in the middle of nowhere.

“[Just keep watching, private],” replied the officer. They sat there in almost perfect silence. In the lower right corner of the screen a red blip showed up.

“[Sir, there’s an American C-130 cargo plane entering the observation area].”

“[Good work, Nickoli that's the one we're looking for],” he said before walking over to a red phone.

***

35,000 feet over the Alaska

It’s been several months since Emily and Jenny were injected with the retrovirus, it’s also been about three months since Emily gave birth to a healthy baby boy. A psychic baby boy. Yeah, raising him isn’t going to be easy for her, not at all. Jenny’s wings finally grew in and I can tell that Spits would like to take her flying, given the chance that is. Unfortunately that’s not going to happen.

I looked outside the window and saw the landscape down below the clouds pass by us, the hum of the turbo prop engines pulling us along. Spits was lightly sleeping on my shoulder, she’s wearing an Air Force jumpsuit unlike the rest of us in the cargo hold, we were in our cammies. The other night was… interesting to say the least. I guess she’s still tired from it.

“Sir, we’re going to land soon,” one of the co-pilots said walking over to me. “Please strap yourselves in for landing.”

He walked back into the cockpit leaving me, Spits, and the rest of my new team in the cargo hold. Apparently the brass noticed some abnormal Russian emplacements near the Bearing Straight and was sending along some support ‘just in case.’ My new squad being the solution to that plan. That and a few guns. And dragonskin body armor.

I nudged my lovely wife. “Hmm?” she asked sleepily, her eyes still closed.

“Wake up, we’re almost there,” I replied.

“Where?” She must still be asleep, especially since we were all briefed yesterday before we ever set a foot on this plane.

“To the anchor, where else would be flying to that has snow on the ground?” I replied with a smug grin.

She gave me a small giggle. “I really enjoyed what we did last night,” she said as she traced circles on my chest.

“As did I.”

“Get a room you two,” Jones shouted from the other side of the bay.

Then of all times an alarm started to ring out. “Everybody hold on! We’ve got a missile locked on us!” The *bing bong* of the seat belt airplane sound came and we scrambled to get into our harnesses. I was ripped from my seat as the plane banked. “Releasing flares!”

There was an explosion that shook the plane, which made me fly out of my seat and land towards the rear, hitting my head on the hatch caused my sight to get blurry for a few seconds. The missile must have followed one of the flares. “Hold on! There’s another incoming!” the co-pilot yelled from the cockpit. I stumbled forward as I tried to get back to my seat and strap myself in. My ears were ringing from the impact still.

Spits held her hand out for me to take, then came the second explosion. One moment I was walking forward, the next I was being pulled back at what felt like Mach speeds. Spits yelled something, but it was obscured because of the wind rushing past my ears. I flew uncontrollably out of the cargo bay and I saw that the plane was losing altitude quickly.

As I fell in freefall I struggled to get my body armor off to free my wings. My body rotated and I saw the ground rapidly approaching. I started swearing, however at terminal velocity you can’t hear anyone, not even yourself say or scream anything. I reached for my knife to try to cut the vest loose since for some reason it wouldn’t come off normally. One side I managed to slice off one of the straps and then I looked down and saw the ground rapidly approaching.

Seeing that I started to panic and I fumbled my knife and it escaped my reach. The ground started approaching even quicker and I started praying to every deity under the sun. Well this is one fucked up way to go. I didn’t feel what happened next, all I heard was a crunching sound and everything went black.

Author's Note

No that’s not Fleur for those Fleur fans out there, just some random nameless.
We received some background on why Chrysalis's appearance is the way it is.
What is Chrysalis’s daughter’s endgame? Well that’s for me to know and you to find out. Also I’m looking for suggestions for a name for her as well. PM me suggestions if you have any. The winner will be noted in the author’s notes when her name gets debuted.
And no Andrew’s not dead, that would be one shitty way to end the story now wouldn’t it?

Anyway this is just a shorter chapter to hold you guys over until the next one comes out. Mainly because I wanted to get this out on my birthday, but that didn't really happen unfortunately. Well to those of legal age (18 overseas and 21 in the States) let's have a toast of your preferred beverage. Here's to another year.
Random side-thought: I just got a new phone and am needing an awesome photo for the lock screen. Submit any findings through PM, the best one gets to be on my phone.

I would like to believe that I caught all my errors, if I didn’t just get a hold of me and I’ll fix them ASAP.

Chapter 25: Déjà Vu

A/N: This chapter has been brought to you by late nights, countless interruptions, and XYience Xenergy energy drinks that I get from my workplace for free. Enjoy. Fair warning, this chapter is intentionally very confusing on purpose.

Chapter 25: Déjà Vu

“The human brain is a complex organ with the wonderful power of enabling man to find reasons for continuing to believe whatever it is that he wants to believe.”
Voltaire

I shot out of bed and held my head. My breathing fast and shallow. As the rest of my mind caught up with my current train of thought I noticed that my entire bed was soaked in sweat. That must’ve been one hell of a nightmare. I looked over to the side of my empty bed and felt like something was missing, but I shrugged it off. I looked over at my phone and noticed that I had a missed call. Scratch that, there were three of them. All were from my boss. Then a text message came in, ‘Get your ass to 27th and Oakdale, double homicide.’

‘A double homicide at three in the morning? How could today get any better?’ I thought to myself sarcastically. Seriously though, why in the hell did I get into homicide?

***

One cold shower, a change of clothes, and a ‘healthy’ breakfast of doughnuts and coffee later and I was driving down the highway as fast as possible. There was no real hurry, it’s not like the murderer was standing over the poor sap’s body anyway.

I pulled up to the house and already there was an ambulance and four squad cars outside of it. The flashing lights attracted all the neighbors, that’s not going to be fun for someone to deal with. I got out and casually walked over to the police line tape. There was one officer near it, I flashed him my badge and he lifted the tape to let me though. I walked inside and saw that the lab techs were all busy at work, like human bees.

“Detective, it took you long enough,” a middle aged man said from my right. I peeked over to see my boss.

“Sorry, sir. My phone was left on silent,” I replied. Who am I kidding? I like to sleep.

“Well thanks to you dilly-dallying the lab boys have already finished processing the scene.”

“Oh goodie,” I rolled my eyes. “What’d they find? Let me guess, dead call girl? Dead husband killed by his wife when she discovered he was cheating on her? Cheating wife killed by the husband?” I started rattling off some possible scenarios for this type of neighborhood. It had to be upper-middle class based on the houses I saw coming up.

“None of the above.” Ok now this was getting interesting. “But before I let you get to work I’d like to introduce you to your new partner-.”

“Nope,” I said starting to walk towards the body. “Not doing it.”

He stepped in front of me, keeping me from getting to the main crime scene. “This time you ARE.”

“Oh come on, why do I have to? I prefer to work alone.”

“Excuse me? I’m supposed to meet with a Detective Briggs,” a female voice said from behind me.

“I’m sorry sweetness,” I said as I turned around. “But-.” What I saw in front of me left me speechless. A tall raven-haired woman, who looked to be in her mid to late twenties wearing a khaki pantsuit, sans the coat; and she had a badge hanging off her belt alongside her department issued firearm. Her pale skin contrasted against the color of her clothing. Something told me that she didn’t get outside very often. Her ‘assets’ weren’t all that bad either.

“See something you like?” she asked with a mix of amusement and distaste.

“Uhh, boss? Can I talk to you for a second?” None of us moved. “Uhh, yeah… you,” I said towards the newcomer. “Go play with the dead body.” She looked at me as though I just kicked a bag full of dead puppies. “Go on, get.” She walked towards the body giving my boss and me the privacy we needed. “What the hell’s going on here?”

“You need a new partner, especially after-,” he started.

“I know what happened, there’s no need to remind me,” I interrupted.

“Regardless, it’s department policy, so get used to it.” He started to walk away, but kept a firm grip on my shoulder first, “Try NOT to scare this one away. The interview process is a bitch to coordinate.”

“Well I’ll try,” I conceded. “But it’s up to her whether she’ll stay or not.” He gave me a ‘don’t fuck with me, boy’ look. “Fine, fine. We’ll try this your way.”

“Play nice,” was the last thing he said before walking away.

“Whatever,” I muttered as I walked towards the victim, my new ‘partner’ was already slaving away looking for potential clues. “Hello there ladies and gents, what do we have here?”

“Caucasian female, blonde, blue eyes, twenty-five years of age, and preliminary cause of death: blunt force trauma to the back of the skull,” the coroner stated for all of us to hear.

“And her name is-,” my new partner said.

“Hold your horses there, Sally,” I interrupted.

“But my name’s not-.”

“I know. I have twenty on her name being German, any takers?” I asked pulling out a twenty dollar bill. “Bueller? Bueller? No one? Weird. Usually there’s one taker. Anyway not-Sally, take it away. What is her name?”

She continued to stare at me for a moment. “What is wrong with you?”

“An expected response. Would anyone care to tell me the name of this poor soul?”

“Rebecca Smith,” someone said amongst the masses.

“Smith is a derivative of Schmidt, someone owes me twenty.” I knelt down next to the body to examine it closely. The poor dear was beaten to a pulp. “Jesus, someone was angry.” I muttered. I used a latex gloved hand to move her head slightly and saw the wound from the apparent killing blow. “Any luck finding the weapon that caused this?” I asked not looking away.

“No, not yet,” one of the CSI’s replied. “The M.E. already bagged and tagged the male in the bedroom.”

“Well we better get looking.” I pulled out my phone and dialed the station, “Hey Charlene, I need you to do a background check on a-,” I took the license given to me by one of the techs; “Rebecca Smith, born August twentieth, 2000,” I then gave her license number.

“One moment Detective,” she replied. I heard keyboard keys tapping in the background. “So how are you today?” she asked trying to make conversation.

“Neither better nor worse.”

“I see… Are you planning on visiting her soon?”

“Yeah, after I finish up at this scene, just like always.”

“Well I have your background check on Ms. Smith. She’s a bartender downtown at the ‘Bee and Barb’ tavern. Just moved to the city. No outstanding warrants, no parking tickets, nothing. She sounds like she was the model citizen.”

“There’s no way she could afford a place like this on a bartender's salary,” I muttered. “What’s her address?”

“I’ll send it to you. Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yes Charlene, for the last time I’m ok. Thank you,” I said into the phone before ending the call. The address appeared in my text messages. “Watson!” I yelled out. A balding middle aged man popped his head into the room. “No, not you Carl. I meant not-Sally.” He shrunk back into whatever room he came from and not-Sally, now Watson, came over.

“What do you want?” she asked irately. “And my name’s not Watson or not-Sally, it’s-.”

“Yeah I don’t care. Meet me at this address in two hours,” I interrupted handing her a hand written form of the address.

“Why not now?”

“I have business elsewhere to take care of, just finish up here and meet me there in two hours. Capiche?” I asked before walking away, not even waiting a full two seconds for her response.

“AND MY NAME’S NOT WATSON!”

***

“Why is he such an ass? And what’s up with the whole ‘Watson’ thing,” ‘Watson’ asked one of the CSI ladies.

“That’s what he calls all of his partners, or well ever since THAT happened he has.”

“‘That?’ What are you talking about?”

“About three months ago he started getting insanely depressed and started going to the hospital for hours on end almost every day when he wasn’t on a case.”

“I heard it’s PTSD from that drug bust he and one of his long-term partners did. There was an explosion and he ended up with a medium concussion, scrapes, and bruises. His partner wasn’t so lucky,” another tech piped up while he was print dusting a trophy with a heavy base.

“You mean-?” not-Sally trailed.

“Oh, no. She’s not dead. Last I heard she was in a coma.”

“I also heard they were in bed together,” an officer said walking into the room. “But that’s just scuttlebutt around the water cooler.”

“And the not getting to know his partners’ names?” not-Sally asked.

“I guess he just figures it’s just easier that if he doesn’t know their names it doesn’t come to bite him in the ass later if something happens to them.”

***

Ten minutes later at the hospital…

I walked into the hospital room after the officer at the door let me through. I’ve been here enough that he doesn’t even need to see my badge anymore. I took off my coat and set it on the hook behind the door. I took a seat next to the bed in the comfy chair I bought for the room. I looked over the occupant’s features, like I always did. Her long, uncut, fiery red hair was splayed out on the pillow. Her once well-tanned skin turned to a pasty white. The sounds of the ventilator, EKG, and other machines keeping her alive played a quiet symphony of misery to my ears.

“Hey babe, sorry it took me so long to keep our weekly ‘date,’” I said taking her hand gently, hoping that she would grasp it. “I got caught up on another case.” Sadly she didn’t. Another day, another one sided conversation. “It’s a murder in that really nice neighborhood on the north side. Female, twenty-one, her whole life in front of her.” I shifted in my seat trying to get comfortable, “They have me assigned to another temporary slash permanent partner for this case. Fifty says that she doesn’t last longer than this case,” I said with a chuckle. I wish I could be drinking something hard right about now.

I sighed and I looked around the room. There were a few more cards on the end table from family and co-workers. “Seems like some more people came by, huh? They miss you at work, your bright personality and special kind of dark humor really helped in our grim line of work. Now it’s dull and boring. A monotonous routine.” I pulled out my phone and looked at the text from Charlene. “I have the vic’s home to get to look for clues to who her killer might be. I hate to go, but I have to. But before I do-,” I pulled out an iPod with a set of earbuds that was charging on the wall. “I thought that you’d like to listen to some music. After all the docs say that familiar sounds have brought the deepest of coma patients out.”

I put one ‘bud’ in her ear and leaned over to give her a kiss on the forehead. “Listen, I might be gone for now, but if you wake up I’ll be here faster than a jackrabbit on a skillet. That was terrible, wasn’t it? You always were the one who was better at that shit. I love you, and I’ll be back soon,” I said before hitting play, letting the music do its thing.

I turned around to see a certain new partner standing in the doorway, “Watson, what are you doing here and why aren’t you at the vic’s residence?”

She stifled a sniffle, “I didn’t know that you were that close to her.” She walked over to the bed, “What’s her name?”

“Samantha Brannigan. How did you know I was here?”

“A reverse phone look-up,” she replied with some pride. “I’m sorry, this was probably supposed to be a private moment between you two.”

“It was. She’s my partner, the only one I’ll work with. So don’t get too comfortable.”

“Again I’m sorry. Let’s start over. I’m Selene Romanov,” she said holding her hand out, a smile on her face.

“Briggs,” I replied taking it in a firm grip, me in return leaving a neutral expression on my face I had been wearing since this conversation started. “Now in case you’ve forgotten Watson, we have the residence of a dead person to get to.” I started walking. “And before you say again, ‘my name’s not Watson,’ consider it your nickname during our forced partnership. I’m pretty much Sherlock, you’re by proxy Watson. Got it? Good.”

***

We walked up to the vic’s front door. It was a nice house, albeit it was in not one of the nicer parts of town. By that I mean it didn’t look like it was in disrepair, in fact it looked well maintained. There were two doors, one heavy wooden door, with one glass viewing door in front of it. I looked at my reflection and saw something that didn’t make any sense. Instead of me wearing my suit, gun, and badge I was wearing a full combat uniform. I couldn’t identify the military branch though. In my hands was a M16 rifle and holstered on my right leg was what looked to be a Beretta. In one of the boots was what looked like a .357 magnum revolver.

I raised my right hand and my reflection did the same. I raised an eyebrow and so did the reflection. What the reflection did next surprised me, a proportionate set of jet black wings unfurled from behind me. My pupils started to dilate before a hand landed on my shoulder.

“Briggs, are you ok?” Selene asked. My head snapped to her before looking back at the door and the reflection in the glass was my normal self.

I blinked a few times, shaking my head to try to clear my mind. “Yeah I’m fine, it must be the lack of sleep I’ve gotten lately. Come on, we have a house to clear,” I replied. I put my hand on my holster in a way I could access it, which also exposed my badge, and rang the doorbell. There was no answer so I rang it again. I opened the outer door and knocked on the hard wood. “Police! Anyone home?” I said loud enough for an entire household to hear. Well so long as they weren’t listening to anything obnoxiously loud.

No one responded. It was quiet, too quiet. “Take the back,” I instructed and Selene nodded in response. As she rounded the corner to enter through the back door, I drew my pistol and flicked off the safety while keeping my finger outside the trigger guard. I stood on the side by the door frame and knocked hard, “This is detective Briggs of the police, please open the door! This is your last chance!”

Again there was no response. I twisted the doorknob and found that it was unlocked. I slowly opened the door as it let out a barely audible moan from a lack of grease. I held my gun up as I swept the entryway. Seeing that there was nothing I shouted 'Clear!' before I proceeded to the next room, again nothing. Then I moved into the living room, where I met up with Selene. She took the kitchen while I went towards the master bedroom. As I approached the air just felt cold and wrong.

I twisted the doorknob and let the door swing open as I lined up the sights, my finger inching towards the trigger. As the door finished swinging open I then knew the reason it was so quiet. “Clear! Watson, get over here.”

“Clear!” I heard her shout from the other end of the house. A moment later she appeared by my side. “What is it that you wanted me to-? Oh.”

“Yeah, another D.B.,” I replied. I flicked the safety back on and holstered my weapon. “Call it in.”

***

Fifteen minutes later the crime scene guys and the M.E. showed up on the scene. They closed off the scene and while the techs scoured the scene for clues I went over to the M.E. “So, who is she?” I asked. The body was below a bloody sheet, presumably from the victim.

The M.E. used her fingerprint scanner and brought up AFIS on her tablet. “Jenny Yang, age twenty-two, Asian descent,” she answered as she examined the wounds on the victim. I copied down every detail on my notepad for reference purposes.

“Preliminary cause of death?”

“From what I’m seeing here on the bed and the wounds on the victim, I would say cause of death was exsanguination.”

I cringed, “Not a way I want to go out.”

“There’s a good way to die?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, fast and quick. Like a gunshot to the head or a high pressure wave from an explosion. That or dying in your sleep. Preferably the latter of those.”

“Well I can’t blame you. Let’s get a look at the rest of you, sugar,” she said to the corpse. I honestly found that a little disturbing. However medical examiners are able to make bodies tell who killed them. So does that make it more like a one-sided conversation? She pulled back the sheet and our jaws both dropped. “My lord.”

“You said it, sister.” The victim was stripped of any clothing. What she lacked in clothing she made up in a multitude of fresh razor cuts. Her legs were broken in multiple places, though they sat almost straight on the bed there were abnormal bulges in the skin as the broken bones pushed out against the skin. “Jesus. And I thought the last scene was unpleasant.”

“I see multiple contusions, blunt force trauma, and sharp force trauma. Whoever did this definitely had some sort of beef with her.”

I noticed something white near one of the cuts. “Hey what’s that?” I asked pointing it out.

She looked at it and took a swab, “I have no idea, but I’ll send it to trace.”

I sniffed the air near the body and it sort of smelled briny. “I don’t know about you, but does that smell like sea salt?”

“Now that you mention it, it sort of does.” She then looked closer at the wounds, “You don’t think that-?” she trailed.

“Usually you’re the one telling me not to jump to conclusions. We’ll let trace do that for us.” I looked again at the body. “The sooner you get that body back to the lab, the sooner we find out who and what killed her.”

I took another look at the body before leaving the room. In her place was a redheaded Caucasian woman with yellow highlights and light orange wings splayed limply under her bare body. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but she looked familiar. I blinked a few times and gave my head a quick shaking and when I opened my eyes again there laid the body of the victim, not the mystery woman.

“Is there something wrong, detective?” the coroner asked.

“No, no. I think I just need some sleep. I’m starting to see shit that isn’t there,” I said with a lighthearted chuckle to brush off the weirdness. “Just have the lads from the crime lab run up the results to my office when they have something.” I turned to leave towards the front door, “WATSON!!! We’re leaving!”

***

Unknown

I woke up slowly from my slumber on my bed. I felt another person sleeping next to me, or more accurately I felt someone sleeping on my arm. “Spits,” I groaned weakly from sleepiness. “Get off my arm.” She rolled a bit and I slid my arm out from under her, “Thanks,” I mumbled before drifting off to sleep again.

***

I woke up on my couch in my office. I pinched the bridge of my nose as I sat up. “Who the hell is this ‘Spits’ and why does that name feel important to me?” I muttered.

I heard the clacking of heeled shoes approach my office, “Detective Briggs, we have some evidence that just came back from the lab.” I opened my eyes to see that Selene, aka Watson was standing in front of me with a manila folder. “Did you enjoy your nap?”

“Hardly,” I replied. “What do you have for me?”

“The autopsy report came back on male back at our first scene. His name is Victor Salis, divorced, aged forty, Eastern European decent. Anyway the corner found a single GSW to the front of the skull, a small caliber round. Probably a .22, .35, or .38. We’ll know exactly what it is once we hear back from the lab on who owned the gun that fired it.”

“Anything else?” I asked looking at the first report.

She handed me a second folder. “The results from Rebecca Smith’s autopsy. The blunt force trauma that we saw initially wasn’t what killed her.” I raised an eyebrow, signaling her to continue. “She was strangled shortly after she was hit.”

“What about their times of death?”

“Within the same hour of each other.”

I let out a low whistle, “Wow, so we’ve got one double homicide and a ritualistic looking one, all in the same day.”

“Ritualistic, sir?”

“You didn’t see the body from the house after the coroner got there, did you?” I asked and Selene shook her head ‘no.’ “Well the vic’s body was cut repeatedly, her bones broken, and what looked to be sea salt in her wounds. Whoever did that is a sick psychopath.”

“Wow… I…” she stammered before I cut in.

“Well keep me in the loop, I’m going back to my nap. Tell the lab peeps to call me when they have something,” I said before finding my rancher style hat that was sitting on the arm of my couch and set it on my head before drifting off to sleep again. Well needed sleep.

***

I walked into my assigned room on the base. For some reason or another Spitfire and I was given a private room with a queen sized bed. A C-130 transport was being requisitioned for tomorrow morning and we were on a ‘layover’ until then.

“So…” I trailed sitting on the bed. “Are you excited about tomorrow?” Spitfire sat down on the bed next to me. “You get to go home after all.”

“Yeah, but…” she replied looking downtrodden. “There might be a chance that you won’t be able to come with me.”

“And if that happens, so be it. Princess Twilight said that they’re going to activate it tomorrow, the same day as the Crystal festival, using the crystal heart as the power source. How that manages more power than a Mark-II fusion reactor is beyond me.”

She giggled as she walked over to the door and locked it. “You know,” she said taking off her top, allowing her wings free, as well as her bra contained breasts. “There’s a reason why I asked for a private room for us.” She undid her belt and removed her pants, leaving her in white lacey lingerie. She then gave me the biggest bedroom eyes I’ve ever seen her give me before she pushed me down onto the bed and crawled on top of me.

“I’m pretty sure I know why, but why don’t you tell me anyway,” I said with a wry grin.

“I figured that this might be the last time we’ll be able to be intimate with each other for a time, if not longer. So I figured that we should have one last night together as a married couple in case something does happen.” She then pressed her lips to mine, her tongue darting inside my mouth. A minute later we needed to take a breath and she pulled a few inches away.

“Who am I do deny a lady something she wants?” I asked rhetorically with a wry smile.

(A/N: It is implied that something does happen, but since this is a teen rated fic it pretty much had to be cut from the story, however a possible cloptional chapter may appear at a later time as per the guidelines that I set for this story. Use you imaginations on what happened next ;) .)

***

‘He keeps drifting between levels three and four of the Glascolt scale,’ an educated voice said.

‘We have an identical scale called Glasglow back home,’ a familiar male voice said.

‘His subconscious has been drifting between memories and some sort of scenario created by his mind,’ a regal but young sounding voice said. ‘A very interesting one, might I add.’

‘Anyway, back to the topic at hand. There’s a chance he might not wake up,’ the educated man said.

I woke up again, I checked the clock on the wall and saw that a few hours had passed. The reason I woke up? My phone was ringing.

“Briggs,” I said in my half-asleep toned voice.

“Detective, we have evidence that points towards a suspect,” the head of the crime lab said.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I replied before hanging up. I looked down to see that for some reason Jr. was attempting to stand at full attention, that was one hell of a dream, almost lifelike.

***

I walked into the crime lab’s main lobby and took a seat. Normally I’d just walk straight in, but today I had to wait for ‘Watson’ since I had texted her to meet me here. I checked my phone to see if she had texted me for any reason, like if she got stuck in traffic or something. After all she said she was going to talk to some of the guys still on the scene or something.

“Detective?” ‘Watson’ asked.

My body jumped for a second at the sudden grab at my attention. I looked up and saw Selene looking down at me, “Jesus lady, where the fuck did you come from?” I asked. “Do you know what? Never mind, we have evidence to see.”

We walked through the double doors that led into the ‘innards’ of the lab. There we were approached by the lab’s boss, the one. The only-, “Miranda! It’s good to see you again. How long has it been since we’ve been on a case together? The Jackson case?”

“No, actually further back. The Stephenson case,” the slim, raven-haired Latina replied.

“Ah yes, the stalker murder-suicide. We’ve got some fucked up people in this world,” I added with a chuckle. “Anyway. Miranda, Selene. Selene, Miranda,” I said as I introduced them.

“I’ve heard of you, your employees speak very highly of you,” Selene said.

“Why thank you. And I’m glad to see that you’re getting along with my employees. Selene, huh? That’s an interesting name there. Named after the Roman goddess of the moon are we?”

“Well I was born at night with a full moon high in the night sky. That and my parents favored Romane mythology.”

“As in the lettuce?” I chimed in, trying to push her buttons.

“My apologies, I doth meant Roman.”

“You just get weirder and weirder, Watson.”

“Anyway,” Miranda said trying to get us back on topic. “The autopsy came back on your third victim. C.O.D. was not from exsanguination as the M.E. originally stated at the scene.” She pulled out a high resolution photograph out of the folder. “Antemortum bruising on the neck shows that she was strangled by someone with their bare hands.” She pointed to the dark purple marks on the neck.

“Talk about hands on.” Then off all times my phone went off playing the theme from CSI: Miami. Both women gave me a raised eyebrow. “Talk about perfect timing,” I muttered.

“That’s dark,” Selene stated.

“Watson, if you’re going to be paired up with me, be prepared for a healthy dose of dark humor.” I handed back the photo, “What about the tox screen?”

“We found traces of alcohol and chloroform,” Miranda continued.

“Well that makes sense. Based on the state that the body was in when we found it did you run a-?”

“Yes we did run a sexual assault kit, it came back positive.” I saw Selene turn a little green. “The lab boys are still determining whether it was from before, after, or during her death. We started a search in CODIS, no hits so far.”

“You said that you had evidence that would lead to a killer, all you’ve given me is how victim number three died and that she was drugged.”

“Then you’d know that your two female victims were roommates, correct?”

“Yes, I knew that before I took a nice little siesta earlier today.”

“Well according to my boys, and girls; your male vic was aggravated with the first female vic and killed her with a stray power cord after hitting her with the trophy. As he cleaned himself off the second female vic walked in on him trying to clean up the scene. He tried to attack her and she shot him right through the head with one shot.”

“Ok so male kills female number one. Female number two kills male out of self-defense, then what? She ran away?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well she was drugged so either she was grabbed immediately after shooting our male vic, or she was on her way home after fleeing the scene and was grabbed there.”

“We didn’t find any significant blood pooling at the scene,” Selene chimed in.

“Which means that she was killed elsewhere and brought back to her apartment to be displayed for someone to find,” I added.

“So the question becomes: who was it meant for?” Miranda asked. “But I suppose that’s YOUR side of the fence.” She handed over the file to me, which I handed to Selene. “The address for Ms. Yang’s next of kin is in there, they’re on the other side of town.”

“Thanks,” I said as I started to walk away. “Oh, did you ever find out what that crystal was in the wounds?”

“You and the coroner were right, it was sea salt.”

“So she was tortured,” it wasn’t a question, but a statement.

***

‘The doctors tell me that telling you what’s going on with you may help bring you out,’ a female voice said. For some reason she sounded so familiar. ‘They say you had a pulmonary embolism shortly after crossing over. From the explosion.’

“What do you mean ‘crossing over’?” I asked the bodiless voice.

She just kept going. ‘When you landed you broke a rib that punctured your lung, which started filling with blood. You were also hit with several bullets.’ She sounded like she was going to have a nervous breakdown right then and there. ‘But the medic was able to keep you from drowning in your own blood, so there’s that.’

“What the hell are you talking about?!?” I yelled into the darkness.

‘You started to go into shock from blood loss. The only way to save you was to try a risky procedure and you reacted badly to that, causing you to slip into a deep coma.’

Well she’s not going to stop. ‘Well you’re mostly healed up now, but you had pretty much every major bone broken, fractured, or dislocated. A shard of metal from the device was embedded in your spinal column; the doctors don’t even know if you’ll walk again if it damaged anything major other than the vertebrae.’ Wait… she’s talking about me? But I feel fine.

I heard some shifting, ‘I really wish you’d wake up soon. My parents are dying to meet you, well not literally dying. That was a poor choice of words on my part.’ Yeah, it was. ‘I’d hate to leave you now, but I have to go back to work. Back to the joyful world of over a year’s worth of paperwork.’ She got up and it sounded like she left a kiss on some exposed skin, I wouldn’t know where though since I didn’t feel it. ‘I love you,’ she said before footfalls were made walking away.

“Andrew!” a voice said from behind me. I turned around to see the face of Selene and instead of floating in an endless black void I was back in my office.

“Yes?” I answered nonchalantly.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes. What happened?”

I blinked a few times, “Nothing, I must’ve just gotten lost in my train of thought that I didn’t even see or hear you.”

“Are you sure, you looked pretty out of it?” she insisted.

“Yeah, so what were you trying to tell me?”

“Ms. Yang’s next of kin is in the conference room.”

“Thanks for the heads up, I’ll go interview them shortly,” I said while grabbing my mug, I’m going to need a big ‘ol cup of Joe to get through the next few hours.

***

I looked through the window into the conference room. Inside was an Asian couple, by my guess I’d say in their fifties. They looked distraught, but then again how would anyone look learning that their child died? I took two coffee mugs filled with coffee and entered the room. I set the mugs in front of them and took my seat at the other end of the table.

“I figured you’d want something to drink, unfortunately we don’t have anything stronger than coffee in this joint,” I half-joked, hinting at liquor.

“Thank you,” the father replied while the mother started drinking. “I assume that your department called us here to-.”

“Yes, to tell you that your daughter’s body was found yesterday in her apartment. Murdered. I'm sorry for your loss.”

Both parents looked at me in shock. “But… who would do such a thing to our daughter?” the mother asked.

“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me. Did she have any enemies, anyone who would want to hurt her?”

“No, there’s no one. She is, was a sweet girl,” the mother said.

“Ok, how about any disgruntled boyfriends or co-workers? ANYONE who would hold a grudge against her.”

They sat there a long time, thoughts running through their minds as they thought for anything that I could use to find the killer.

“She did say something about someone creeping about the apartment a month ago,” the father stated.

“Ok, now we’re getting somewhere. Did she say anything else about this ‘creeper’?”

“Well she mentioned about a week or two ago her house had a break in and though nothing was stolen, her underwear drawer was rooted through,” the mother said.

‘Do you have a cigar? If I’m going to do this crazy ass idea, I’d rather look like Sargent Johnson chomping on a cigar.’

“Detective?”

‘No, Andrew. Don’t do this,’ a female voice said.

‘We both know it’s the only way. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.’

“Detective?” the voice said again.

‘I promise to make my way back to you.’

‘Don’t make a girl a promise you probably can’t keep,’ she said sadly before planting a kiss on my lips.

“Detective!”

My attention snapped back to the couple in the room. “Sorry about that folks. I do believe that the information you’ve given me will help in the ongoing investigation.” I pulled out a business card, “If you have any other information for me, go ahead and call that number.”

‘I promise.’

I walked out back into the halls on the way back to my office. I dialed up Selene, “Hey I need you to check a B&E report for the address of our deceased.”

“Anything specific you’re looking for?” she asked.

“At this point, give me everything and bring it to my office.”

‘Captain, let me do it,’ a young male said.

‘There isn’t time, kid. You have one last order from me: make sure she gets through. I’ll cover you, as soon as the bullets start flying, run.’

“Sir, are you ok?” one of the officers on desk duty asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied while rubbing my temples. “I just need an aspirin or something.” I walked into my office and inside was Selene.

“Hey boss, I got the B&E report- you look like shit. Are you sure you’re ok?” she asked.

“What is it with everyone asking if I’m ok?” I asked sarcastically.

“Because you don’t. What’s going on?”

I have a feeling that she won’t let up. I sat down in my chair and Selene took the one in front of the desk. “Fine. I’ve been hearing and seeing shit that isn’t even there. First there was an image of me looking like some sort of… soldier in a reflection in that outer door from the third vic’s residence. Then I’ve been hearing what seems to be a conversation that only I can hear, a bunch of which involve a recurring woman.” I let out a sigh, “I don’t know, maybe it’s just the stress from the last few cases getting to me.”

“Maybe it’s not.” This snapped me out of every train of thought. “I can help you, if you want me to that is.”

“You?” I scoffed. “What could you do?”

“Well before I started here and graduated from the academy I was raised by my parents who ran a carnival-.”

“So you were a carney?”

“Yes. And as I was saying, I worked as part of it as a hypnotist. Later I discovered that I could actually help people remember things that they had thought forgotten using hypnosis.”

“What’s the catch? There always is one.”

“I have to inject you with a light sedative to make your mind more… compliant with things I’ll ask you to remember.”

“Light?”

“Just to help you relax, nothing more.”

I leaned back in my chair and sighed. This was getting annoying. Where the hell are these voices coming from? And more importantly, why does one of them sound a striking resemblance of mine? “Are you sure that this will help?” I ask not only skeptically but hopeful as well.

“I’ll do everything within my power to help.”

***

I was laying down on my couch in my office an hour later. I’m so lucky I sprung for the one that was comfortable; it makes the naps I take on cases I work overnight that much more relaxing. My shirt sleeve was already rolled up and Selene was standing next to me, a syringe in her hand.

“And you’re sure that’s a ‘light’ sedative?” I asked, yet again skeptical.

“For the last time, yes. Now do you want to do this or not?” she asked.

I sighed. “Not really, but it sort of has to be done. Hit me.” She nodded and I closed my eyes only to feel a small gauge needle enter my arm. Soon after my arm started to get numb. The fist I had been holding started to relax. A few more minutes passed and though I was still in control of my body, and I still had some feeling, I did feel relaxed.

“Now I want you to keep your eyes closed.” I only nodded. “I want you to imagine you’re floating in a warm pool, the warmth entering your body, your mind.” Though my suit coat was off and the air conditioner was running I felt as though I was in a warm bath, sans being naked. “Now I want you to remember back to when these figments of your imagination started appearing.”

“I’m at the front door of the victim’s residence.” In my mind the scene drew itself before me, “When I looked in the reflection of the glass door I saw myself, but not myself.”

“Please elaborate.”

The image became sharper as some details behind the other me were in focus now. “I look as though I’m dressed for war, younger though. Combat armor, an assault rifle, two pistols, and a few forty millimeter grenades. The pattern on the uniform is white based.”

“Is there anything else about this other you?”

“He, I, looks sad and concerned.” I could see it in ‘my’ expression.

“Do you know the reason why?”

“No.”

She sighed as it sounded like she was taking notes based on the pen scratches. That or she was doing paperwork. “Ok, let’s try something different: can you tell me what the background looks like? Is it different or the same, and how?”

“It’s different,” I replied while looking at the scenery behind ‘me.’ “It’s all white out, maybe after a snowfall?” I looked and saw a burned-out building. “A building has smoke rising from it, sort of like a hangar.”

“Anything else?”

“There seems to be a large hunk of metal, maybe it’s a vehicle of some kind?” I approached the window, time stood at that moment as I approached the reflection. I looked at the blob harder until a recognizable shape came. “It’s an Abrams, or similar tank. I think.”

“Good, good. Now I want you to focus on the woman you mentioned a while back. Focus on her voice.”

“But what good will that do?” I asked. “I don’t even know what she looks like.”

“Just trust me. Focus on her voice, what she sounds like. Inflections in her voice. Things that make her unique from any other person.” As I remembered the ethereal conversation I did as she said. “Now I want you to imagine a face, hair color and style, and anything specifically unique about her physiology.” Slowly a flesh colored blob started to take form into a nude model before clothing covered ‘her’ body. “Now what do you see?”

“A woman. Mid to late twenties. Red hair with yellow highlights tied back into a ponytail. Slim athletic physique. And…” I paused. I had no idea how exactly to say what’s next.

“And what?”

“I’m not quite sure how to say this without sounding insane.”

“Don’t worry,” Selene reassured me. “There is no wrong answer.”

“She has wings, the shade of orange is sort of what you would think a Dreamcicle is colored like.”

“Anything else about her?”

“She seems important to me, but I don’t know why. Hell, I don’t even know her name,” I sighed.

“Don’t focus on the name right now. Something happened three months ago, what was it?”

“There was an explosion in the warehouse district. Samantha and I were conducting a raid with ATF agents to take down a synthetic drug ring that had set up shop. A bullet from a suspect’s gun hit a propane tank and caused the building to go up. There was an explosion and I ended up with a concussion, but-.” I paused, “Sam ended up in a coma from her trauma.”

Selene listed as it sounded like she was taking more notes. “That’s what you THINK happened. Now I want you to really dig down in your own subconscious and find out what happened, what REALLY happened.”

I thought back to the day that the bust had happened. But something was off, I couldn’t remember anything specific from a few hours before the bust but I could remember everything significant down the last detail afterwards up to today. The next thing I knew the only thing I could see in my mind was darkness, and a small pure white bubble floating in the darkness. Like the Magelight spell from Skyrim.

I walked forward and tried to pop it with my fingernail. Instead of popping it instead sucked me into it. The only thing I saw next was darkness. I heard a beep as well.

***

I felt pain everywhere. Primarily in my back where the wing joints join the scapula. Oh my God I’ve become Carl from Jimmy Neutron. And with that my eyes snapped open to see a cloudy sky and on the ground was a good foot or so of snow. The trees around me were covered in it, sans some broken branches. They must have snapped when I landed on them. Wait… shouldn’t falling from 35,000 feet kill me if I was traveling at terminal velocity with no parachute?

I sat up and took ‘inventory’ of my person. Arms and legs, check. Head, check; well I’m alive so yeah that’d better be a ‘check.’ Bleeding out, nada. Wings, hurt like hell. I probably dislocated them. Or broke them in several places, regardless of the condition one thing remains the same: I’m going to be walking a long-ass way. I stood up, using a tree for support as my sense of balance started to come back.

I around and saw a plume of smoke rising from the north and a much smaller one from the south. Based on the fact that I was ripped out of a plane by an explosion and the plane kept flying for a bit, I’m going to assume that the smaller plume is the burning wreckage of the tail section and any fragments and the larger one is the rest of the plane.

I checked to see what else made the fall along with me. My MP-412 was still in my leg holster, fully loaded. There was a knife hilt buried in the snow, a good foot or two from the form of where my body landed. I pulled it out and saw that it was my survival knife. It still has its tanto point, and though I’m not going to test it on myself, sharp as hell. However as I looked around I saw nothing else around the area of my landing. Looks like a rifle or semi-auto pistol didn’t manage to luckily fall out as well. My vest was still attached to my person, even though one section of it was cut clean through, nothing a little duct tape won’t fix. At least I had something rather than nothing.

I sheathed the knife and pulled out my revolver. Just out of a minor bit of OCD I checked to see that the rounds were all loaded and closed the breach. You never know what’s out there in these woodlands anyway.

***

An hour. A full hour of walking in knee deep snow and I was finally at the wreck. You’d think that I’d run, well that’s pretty hard in fucking snow. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if I was frostbitten. Yeah I’ve got some primo winter gear on, but even the best stuff only works for a certain amount of time before the cold starts to get at you. Regardless to the fact you have ‘magical’ insulation against it.

As the wreck came into view I saw that the wings got sheared off, most likely from the impact. I’m really hoping the Spits and the rest of them made it out of there alive. The wreck wasn’t burning anymore, but the engines were still smoking. As I crawled through the wreck there wasn’t a body in sight. I sighed in relief, they made it out. I went up to the cockpit and saw one of the pilots wasn’t so lucky during the crash. Someone had already tended to his body and had it laid out in a respectful way.

I saw that a radio and a sidearm was still on his person, “Sorry. I should let your body rest in peace, but maybe you can help me even after death,” I muttered. I grabbed the radio from his body and turned it on. “Hello? Anyone on this channel?” There was nothing but static. “Is there anyone on this channel? This is Captain Andrew Briggs, is there anyone listening?”

More static came through the radio. I slumped down to the floor of the cargo bay and let the radio roll right out of my hands. Great, everyone’s gone and I have no idea where they went or where to go exactly.

“He--o?” a voice said. The radio crackling as though they were just in range of the radio. “Is ----ne th-re?”

I scrambled for the radio and hit the ‘transmit’ button. “Yes, this is Captain Briggs. Who is this?”

“Briggs?” the signal sounded like it was getting clearer now. “Sweet mother of Christ! How are you still alive?”

“Jones?!? Did everyone else make it out? Is Spitfire ok?” I rapid-fired the questions off.

“Slow down, captain. We’re fine and so is wifey,” he replied. I sighed in relief. “Where are you at?”

“I should be asking you that. I’m at the wreck, what’s your current position?” I asked as I made my way to the back of the plane I saw an M16A4 and picked it up. I pulled back the bolt and saw that it had a round sitting in the magazine. I ejected said magazine and found I had a full thirty rounds to use. I replaced it and loaded a round before checking to see that the rifle was ‘safe.’

I slung the rifle over my shoulder and kept the Beretta in my hand, the radio in the other, as I walked outside of the plane. “We’re a good six kilometers north-northeast of your position, heading towards the staging facility.”

I looked at my watch, “Alright you guys have a have a good hour or so head start on me. I’ll meet you guys at the facility but it might take me a bit longer, my wings got a little messed up when I landed.”

“Do you want us to double back for you?”

“Not unless you want to be carrying my sorry ass all the way to the base to make up for lost time. Listen the portal is going to open exactly at midnight and Spitfire needs to be there when it opens. If I double time it I should meet up with you guys in an hour or two.”

“Alright, ten-four on that, captain. We’ll see you shortly.”

“Just stay safe,” came Spits’ voice from the radio.

“Don’t worry, I will,” I replied.

***

I was right about how long it would take to meet up with the rest of the ‘gang.’ It was about an hour and a half of doubled waddling through knee-high snow. We took a ten minute breather to speculate about what happened.

“It was the fucking ChiComs,” Jones said. “No offense Natalie.”

“My family emigrated here during the Gold Rush, no offense taken,” she replied. “I personally think it was the North Koreans, they’ve been threatening war for a long time with us, their southern neighbors, and Japan. Maybe they finally nutted up.”

“My money’s on the Ruskies,” I chimed in. They gave me the ‘look’ for picking the cliched enemy. “Well if you look at it socioeconomically, Putin’s been trying to rebuild the old USSR back to its old glory for the last decade or so. Add in the fact that they’ve been forming up troops over on the other side of the Bering Strait for the last few months in preparation for SOMETHING and that gives us my guess.”

“So how’d you make it out alive?” Jones asked after a long silence. After all it was the question on everyone’s mind.

I remembered back a few hours. “I have no idea. One moment I was sucked out of the plane from explosive decompression, falling to my certain death; the next thing I knew I hit something and was knocked out. When I woke up I was just as shocked as you are now.” I let out a sigh after taking a drink of water. “To be honest I have no idea what happened.”

“I’m just glad that you’re alive,” Spitfire said scooting as close as she could to me, clinging onto my arm. The other pilot was silent, perhaps silently mourning over his co-pilot? “Alright ladies and gents, we have an appointment to keep, so let’s keep moving.” I walked over Lang, who happened to have a GPS unit. “So, how much further until we reach the base, corporal?”

“Based on what I see here as our current position here,” she pointed to a dot on the display. “I’d say we have about fifty miles yet to go.”

“What I wouldn’t give for a few snowmobiles right now,” I muttered. “Do you think we’ll reach it in time?”

“If we can speed up our pace, yes. But if we’re slowed down in any way there’s no way we can make the deadline.” She could see the disappointment in my facial expression. “What’s crazy is that there isn’t any chatter on the radio except for us, nor has there been any attempt at rescuing us.”

“You’re right, that is odd.” I turned to the pilot, “You managed to get a distress call off, right?”

“Yes, sir. I did. I even said that we were heading towards the base,” he replied.

I turned back to the corporal, “Very odd indeed. They try to get a rescue crew out as fast as they can, especially considering that there was a VIP on board.” I turned around and faced my group of six. “Alright everyone, grab your gear and be ready to head out. Make sure your weapons are loaded as well. Take inventory of how many rounds we approximately have.”

“Expecting trouble, captain?” Jones asked.

“Hopefully not. But’s it’s better to be safe than dead,” I replied taking a drum magazine and placing it into the receiver of my rifle. I placed the still full thirty round magazine in my vest. A few minutes later, everyone was ready to go.

***

We kept walking through the snow. It was about two in the afternoon when we met up, meaning we only had ten hours at the time before the portal opened. Have you ever walked outside in sub-zero weather? It’s cold, isn’t it? Now imagine walking in that for a good eight hours. Yeah, it’s not that pleasant sounding, is it? Because it’s not. And at night? May God have mercy on your soul.

We walked over hills of ice and snow in the moonlight night. I’m just glad that there’s not a blizzard going on out here. Spits and I would be fine, Jones would have a bit of trouble, Lang would be able to generate a heat field around her body, but the only one that would possibly have an issue would be the pilot since he is your average run of the mill human. Corporal Lang is even keeping him alive by extending her ‘personal space heater’ over to him. Had it been any colder and she wouldn’t be able to manage both of them.

When we got to the outer edge of the facility’s grounds something pinged me as off. First was the lack of air vehicle activity searching for a downed plane. Second was it was quiet, too quiet. If you were an outside observer you’d say something like ‘all’s calm before the storm.’ Next was the radio, there was static on every band for the last few hours, it cut out shortly after I had met up with the rest of the survivors of the crash. Everything was becoming extremely suspicious real fast.

“Stay sharp, something feels way off,” I said to the group. They all nodded in return, keeping a firm grip on their weapons.

We proceeded to walk along the main road to the guardhouse. Inside was a guard watching tv, his head was slumped over, like he had nodded off. Someone was going to get reprimanded over this. I knocked on the window to get his attention, “Hello, anyone home?” I asked hoping to get his attention. He didn’t stir at all. “Listen buddy, we’ve been hiking through knee deep snow for the last eight hours after crash landing.” I stepped inside the guardhouse and walked right up to the man. “Listen, I don’t want this to sound like I’m telling you how to do your job, but you shouldn’t be…” I trailed as I saw a crimson stain on the wall opposite of the door. “…sleeping on the job,” I slowly said.

I stepped back outside with a worried look painted on me. “Sir, is something wrong?” Lang asked.

“Yeah, our friend in the guardhouse is a stiff; which means-.”

“That the base has been compromised,” Spits finished, her eyes wide in fear.

“Precisely.” I hefted my rifle to a more readied position. “Let’s move out, people.”

***

Have you ever wondered how you got into a situation? As in the specific events that lead you up to a focal point in which everything converges? Well I was having one right now. How so? Being in a firefight in a hangar that contained an open anchor point for a portal, a currently unstable fusion reactor, a ragtag group of soldiers; oh, and did I forget to mention the other guys shooting at us? Well there’s that. Believe it or not it all started thirty minutes ago.

Thirty minutes prior…

We approached the main installation as quietly as a group of people could in the dead of night. I looked over to the main building and all the lights were off. You’d think for a black-site research base there’d be armed guards patrolling every second of the day. We approached the barracks and at the door I gave a hand signal to stop. I pulled out my knife and slid it under the door, using the reflective blade as an improvised mirror.

“What is it, boss?” Jones asked in a whisper

Under I saw no signs of light. “Nothing, and that’s what scares me,” I replied in the same hushed tone. I sheathed the knife and slowly opened the door, which gave the slightest of *creaks*. “Clear the rooms, quietly.”

“And if we find anyone?” Lang asked as I handed the deceased pilot’s sidearm to Spits.

“Find out what’s going on.” With a curt nod they lifted their weapons should fate decide that they need to be used. We swept room to room but eerily enough there was no one in the beds nor up doing something. This was adding up to something being VERY wrong.

That’s when I came across the first body. The poor soul was still in his bunk, a medium caliber bullet wound in his head, execution style. Then there was the second, found by Lang. This one was shot multiple times with a relatively tight grouping. Based on the amount I would say either a submachine gun or an automatic rifle. After searching all of the rooms we met back in the hallway.

“What’d you guys find?” I asked, though I was already sure what their answers were going to be.

“Dead bodies. Either in their beds or killed without a fight,” the pilot replied.

“Same here,” Jones added.

“Same,” Spits also added, though she was sickened to say it. I knew she never had to kill another human before while with her team, mainly because they were their world’s equivalent of the Blue Angels, except never having to fight in a war as of recent.

“Alright. I’ll see if I can get a signal back to fifty-one and give them a ‘we’re not dead, but these other guys are’ report.” I tried my radio but there was only pure silence. “Or not,” I muttered. I sighed, “Alright let’s just clear-.” I was cut off by a rifle being shot close by, but not in the same building. “Belay that, suspicious gunshots come first.”

We quickly, yet quietly, to where the sound came from. We heard another shot, this time coming from one of the hangars. We stacked up at the opened door, there were several inside.

“What is this?” a heavily accented man asked a kneeling airman while pointing to the device, a gun held by his compatriot at the airman's head.

“I don't know what you’re talking about! I just work here as a day guard,” he pleaded.

“Kill him, he is of no use to us,” he muttered to the armed man.

“Da, ser,” he said before pulling the trigger, the pleas of the airman ignored.

“Well that confirms my Russian theory,” I muttered.

“Jesus,” the pilot said before pantomiming a cross on his torso. I’d be willing to bet he’s a devout Catholic.

“What do we do now?” Spits asked. “They have the entire area secured, AND the portal device is over there. We only have twenty-five minutes before it opens.”

I looked around and outside I saw a few HMMV’s, all with mounted guns. “I think I have a plan,” I said to the group, their ears perking up.

***

I looked over to the vehicle lot to see Jones in the front seats of a HMMV and the pilot barely sticking his head out of the gunner’s seat. I looked over to Lang and Spits and saw that they were finishing liberating some C4 charges from the armory. They finished up and silently ran over to me, stacking up on the other door, ready to burst in.

“All set?” I whispered. They nodded in response. I peeked into the room and saw that the Russian had killed another and was now interrogating a scientist. I held up five fingers and lowered one each second until it formed a fist. When I did Lang threw several flash and stun grenades into the room, using her psychokinetic powers, and Jones started up the HMMV’s engine and gunned it for the doors.

As soon as the Russians heard the vehicle’s roaring engine they all turned around only to see several bright-as-the-sun flashes appear before their eyes and jet engine level volumes assaulting their ears. The HMMV burst through the doors with us following behind it as a mobile cover source. The pops of small arms fire echoed as we took down all those who presented themselves as a threat. In less than a minute all but one of the Russians were dead.

“Thanks for the save, we were pretty sure we were done for,” the scientist said as Lang cut off the restraints.

“I know it sort of sounds cliché, but what happened?” I asked.

“A few hours ago we got run over by those guys. We were expecting some people from down south to witness an experiment taking place in a bit.”

“Well that’s us,” Jones commented.

“What happened to you guys? We were expecting you hours ago.”

“Well I can only hazard a guess, but I’m positive that our dead Ruskie friends here have something to do with it,” I answered.

“Hey guys,” Spits said, getting our attention. “Didn’t this seem a little too easy?”

And at that moment all time stood still as we all turned to look at her. Then we heard shouting in Russian coming from outside the hangar. “Get to cover!”

***

My eyes snapped open to see Selene walking away from me in a hurried pace. I got up and went after her. I grabbed her wrist, which stopped her in her place.

“Let go,” she said, almost snarling.

“No because I think you owe me some answers. First of all: what the hell is going on?”

She sighed impatiently, “Your kidneys are failing.”

My pupils dilated in fear, “What are you talking about? I'm perfectly fine.”

She shook her head, “No, you’re not.” I raised an eyebrow Teal’c style. “Shortly after where I cut your memories off at you got injured, badly. From what I saw on your charts it didn’t look good. Frankly the doctors didn't think you’d survive the night, let alone three months.”

I paused for a moment, “Hold on, let me get this straight: I’ve been in a coma for three months and NOW I’m having kidney problems?”

She nodded, “That is correct.”

“Well don’t keep me waiting, the suspense is killing me. No pun intended.”

“How rude!” she exclaimed.

“Well pardon me, princess; but the last time I checked you weren’t the one whose life was on the line.”

“‘Tis fine, this one time. Back in the Old Age talking back to Royalty would earn you either a trip to the dungeon or the executioner’s block.”

“Sounds like a fun place to run.”

“If only that could be brought back for whiny nobles it would be so much better,” she mused with a smile before her face turned sad. “When you arrived with Spitfire and the others, you were in bad shape. From what I read in the chart there were multiple gunshot wounds, a piece of shrapnel embedded in the lower portion of your spine, extensive head and other bodily injuries from when you hit the ground, and blood loss.

“Ms. Lang, along with the medics at the scene were able to keep you from bleeding out and choking to death using their magic to keep whatever blood that remained inside the circulatory system; however that didn’t solve the issue with the blood loss, you needed a transfusion. There was only one match to your type in the entire Crystal Empire.”

“Okay, but how does this relate to my kidneys shutting down?”

“Young people, so impatient,” she muttered. “We had to do something that hasn’t been done in almost a millennia,” I raised my eyebrow to that. “I’m getting to the point,” she sighed. “We had to use the blood of a Princess.”

“And this is bad, because...?” I trailed, cueing her to finish.

“Because most humans when transfused with Royal blood, even those with the exact same blood type tend to reject it and have an extreme adverse reaction to it.”

“And that's what happened to me?”

“Yes. You see, those who are gifted with the ability to harness and bend magic to their whim contain an enzyme in their kidneys that keeps magic from building up to toxic and potentially lethal levels by 'cleaning' it and distributing it through the body, allowing the Mage to use magic. Those who do not have this enzyme have their kidneys die on them.”

“And this is what is happening to me?”

“Indeed,” she simply replied.

“Well... shit,” I was only able to reply, trying to come to get a grasp on my own mortality. “Now what happens?”

“Now the doctors are going to perform a kidney transplant from a suitable donor. After all it is the only cure for Night Swirl’s Syndrome.” I raised my eyebrow again, but she caught on, “I shall explain it later when time is more plentiful.”

She turned to leave again, “Just one last question, who ARE you?”

A bright flash of light came from her, and when it dimmed in the place of a female detective stood a pale, yet fair skinned woman wearing a regal looking dark indigo dress with some cleavage, but not too much. It accented her curves without taking too much away from the imagination. In other words: modest. Her eyes were a teal-blue, they were further accented by her lipstick of the same color. Her long hair was just as stunning. It flowed in as though a non-existing wind were blowing, similar to how the hair of the character ‘Ember’ did on the show Danny Phantom; just getting a glimpse of it, it looked as though the stars themselves were embedded in it. Her arms had the tell-tale signs of a mage, her markings bearing the same color as her eyes, but slim as though they were drawn pencil thin yet intricate looking. On her head was an obsidian crown, and peeking out from her back was a pair of midnight blue wings.

“My name is Princess Luna; bringer of the night sky, cartographer of the stars, and protector of dreams. Art thou done staring at me?” she asked impatiently.

I blinked a few times, “Sorry, it’s just that the description Spitfire gave me doesn’t do you justice.”

She seemed to blush at my flattering statement. “I thank thee for thine complement, but time is short. I bid thee farewell.” She then disappeared in a flash, leaving me alone in an empty police station.

“Did I just hit on her?” I shook my head before taking a seat, “Nah, it was just a harmless compliment. Now... what to do, what to do?” I asked the empty room for ideas. I looked over to the wall and saw a CO2 extinguisher and nearby was a wheeled office chair. I looked to my left, then to my right. I think a little fun might be in order.

***

I don’t know where or how, but somewhere during the second lap around the work area I blacked out. When I woke up though the ‘station’ was still empty except for me, myself, and I. “Ugh, what happened last night?” It felt as though I had a throbbing hangover.

There was a flash of light in front of me, and there was Princess Luna herself. She looked happy to say the least. “Mr. Briggs! Wonderful news-! What happened here?”

I looked around to try and search for an answer, “Honestly I have no idea.” I stood up, dusting myself off, “So what’s this good news of which you speak?”

“The transplant was a success,” she said happily.

“Well seeing as though I don’t see Valkyries here to carry me to Valhalla, nor do I see the Pearly Gates of Heaven, or even seeing a bright light that I feel compelled to go towards I sure hope it did.” She gave me the stinkeye. “Don’t take it the wrong way, each of us has their own ways to deal with news. Considering that I’m still in a false police station but still alive; I’m trying to see the bright side of this, I really am.”

“You certainly have an interesting… view of things,” she replied with a cough.

“What about the other party, how are they doing?”

“Fine, she woke up not too long ago. Her husband was still not too pleased that she volunteered.”

“I imagine. ‘Oh honey! I’m going to give an internal organ to a guy that I don’t even know’,” I mimed in a falsetto voice. “Yeah I bet that went over well,” I chuckled.

“It took her some convincing on behalf of your wife, but he came around eventually.” We sat down and she summoned two ice cold beer bottles. Unfortunately I wouldn’t be able to get drunk since this was a dream at most.

“So, what now?” I asked as I took a drink. For dream beer it tastes quite good.

“Well, now that the transplanted kidney has been successfully ‘installed,’ it will start to filter out all of the excess magic out of your system. After all that’s what’ll cure Night Swirl’s Syndrome.”

“Who is this Night Swirl anyway?”

“She was the daughter of a dear friend. He discovered the disorder in his daughter when she came of age to start exhibiting signs to start mastering magic. She fell into a coma and since we didn’t have organ transplants back then he slowly watched his daughter die before his eyes. He spend a few decades of his life trying to find a cure so no one else would have to suffer like he did,” she finished.

“Sounds like an honorable guy. What happened to him?”

“He died of old age, he had several more children to carry on his legacy. One direct line still holds a minor, yet influential house in the Canterlot nobility. His theories in magic have been carried down and studied for generations, only recently has one of his last great mysteries been solved.”

“Not that that's not fascinating or anything, but I think the burning question at the backs of everyone's mind is: ‘How long until “Sleeping Beauty” wakes up’?”

“Of course. According to the doctor’s prognosis you shall awaken in the next forty-eight hours,” Luna replied somewhat joyfully.

“Finally!” I winced when I remembered that Luna was still in my mind. “Not that I didn’t enjoy your company or anything, but I sort if want to get back to the real world.”

“Of course. By the way, who was responsible for those murders? I could tell that they were based on reality and not conjured up by your mind.”

“Well since we have a good two days I figure I could fill you in, take a seat,” I said gesturing to a more comfortable seat. Or, well as comfortable you can make a seat inside your mind. “I'll mention this forthright, the original man who performed these acts was one sick, twisted bastard.” She nodded in acknowledging that. “It all started close to a year ago...” I then proceeded to explain what happened with the Slasher and vaguely hinted at his demise.

When I finished she slumped down in her seat, trying to comprehend how someone could be that malicious. “So is he-?”

“Dead?” She nodded. “Very much so. He won’t be hurting anyone anymore.”

There was a pregnant pause after that. Then one question that had been bugging me for a while came to mind. “You mentioned that ‘Royal’ blood hasn’t been used in a transfusion in almost a millennia, why make an exception now?”

Her face went from concerned to depressed in a flash. “The reason we don’t use Royal blood for anyone else other than Royals is because of an incident that occurred a few months before my ‘falling out’ with my sister a thousand years ago.”

“You can tell me what happened, what gets said in the brain stays in the brain.”

She smiled for a moment, “I see you paraphrased your Las Vegas’ catch phrase. Very well.” She sighed, “As Spitfire may have told you, a thousand years ago I was taken over by the entity known as Nightmare Moon because of the envy I had over my sister’s subjects because they loved her daytime more than my night; or at least that's what the general public knows. What only a select few know is what the tipping point was. Yes I was jealous of the popularity Tia’s day had, yet I was content with just one subject who would share in the wonders and pleasure of the night. Not carnal, mind you, but a willingness to ask questions. In that Age it was not common for folk to go against stated knowledge released by the Mages, since they were the scholars and their knowledge was supreme to the other races, so therefore everyone accepted it without question.”

“Sounds a lot like the Roman Catholic Church in the Dark Ages. What changed the status quo?”

“A man, a wonderful young man. I was no older than a high school girl of this Age at the time. Back then the populace didn't know that my sister and I controlled the moon’s orbit and the planet’s rotation. My sister was a few years older than me and we had just recently moved away from our birthplace, where our mother died less than a year earlier.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said solemnly.

“You weren’t responsible for it, were you?” she asked. I shook my head ‘no’. “Then there’s nothing to be sorry for. We met during the Council of Three, when the leaders of the Angels, Earthborn, and Mages met to make laws and treaties. Think of it as a very distorted version of your United Nations. This meeting happened to be the one told inside of the Hearth’s Warming Eve tales. While Tia was paying more attention to the meeting than I, I was wandering about the area outside of the building.

“As I was looking at some of the local wares, one of which was a white gold necklace of the waxing crescent moon,” she said as she pulled out the same necklace around her neck and looked at it longingly before putting it back. “When I pulled out my money to pay for it I was robbed at knife-point; I was going to use one of the defensive spells that my mother taught me when this young man, no older than me, beat the criminal up before giving me back my coin purse.”

“Brave, yet stupid,” I commented.

“That sounds like someone else we both know,” she countered with a smirk. “After the town’s guard patrol had locked up the would-be robber the young man and I exchanged names and hometowns. He had never heard of mine, which wasn’t shocking in the least. We chatted for a while and I learned that he wanted to be a soldier for as long as he could remember. Back then a person of his social status would only be used as a disposable foot soldier. Before we could talk more Tia showed up and dragged me away.

“Months passed and when word came that a new country had been formed on a new content, Tia and I sprung at the chance to make something of ourselves there. Back in the Old Country we were nothing more than two children who secretly took care of the day and night cycles. There was a mass exodus to the newly christened Equestria; the trip took weeks, but once we finally arrived and looked at the landscape we knew we made the right choice.”

“So how does this all connect?”

“I was just about to get to that,” she said with a huff. “The first year was rough, no one really had a clue what they were doing government-wise. My sister and I built a house in what is now the Everfree forest, but back then it didn’t have as many trees as it does today. We hunted and fished for our meals and traded with some merchants for produce, it was a simpler time. Eventually others found us and we built a community of a few dozen people of different races. For a while everything was wonderful, until HE happened.”

“Who is ‘he’?” I asked.

“Discord, the self-proclaimed god of chaos. He made everything, how do you say, not right.” I raised an eyebrow at that. “It’s hard to explain. Down was up, right was left, the clouds were cotton candy that rained down chocolate milk, pigs were flying, and so much more. The military established by Commander Hurricane was unable to combat him. He created monstrosities, chimera, to fight alongside him. Cockatrices, manticores, hydras, the timberwolves, and others. My sister and I tried to aid those fighting against him with our own power, but we too were defeated. We limped back to our home, depressed that our once wondrous and peaceful home was now a chaotic mess.

“We sat around for days, thinking of ways to best him; from paradoxes to full on charges, none of it worked. Eventually the one friend I made back in the Old Country came to our door one night, telling us of a tree made of stone which held six jewels. He said that when he tried to approach it, it repulsed him. My sister, my friend, and I set out the next morning where he led us to it. As we approached it time stood still and six entities spoke to us. They called themselves the ‘Elements of Harmony.’ Normally they would choose a host that best fit their respective element, however they made a unanimous decision to make an exception for us to deal with Discord.

“The rest of the confrontation goes as it is written in the stories, we confronted Discord and turned him to stone. The townspeople spread the word to the three magistrates of Equestria. They heard of the power that the Elements held, and our power in general. They stepped down from their seats of power and made us princesses, co-rulers of an entire country without hesitation. Shortly after that they built us a castle in the Everfree, in the same town that we had started. My friend gained his one life’s dream, to be a soldier. He was trained by the best of the best and was assigned to be my personal guard. Those were fun days, he and I would play pranks on Tia, and then she would try and get back at us. I fell for him, and he fell for me.

“Then Sombra happened. We went to the north to where we are standing now, the Crystal Empire. Sombra was rumored to be the half-brother of Princess Platinum who ran off shortly after the Council of Three Magistrates was formed in Equestria. He abducted countless subjects and used them as slaves to build his empire. He put them under a mass hypnosis making them think that he had their best interests in mind, so they went along willingly with his tyrannical rule. Somehow, no one has quite figured out how, but he came across an extremely powerful artifact now known as the Crystal Heart. Some speculate that he forced the Crystalline he enslaved to create it; others say he found it in ancient ruins. When he tried to use it to expand his empire into Equestria my sister and went to peacefully intervene.

“When we arrived with a small escort force we were ambushed by Sombra and his slave army, we managed to retreat, but at a cost. Most of the escort party died defending us, only a few survived the trip back to the frontier settlement, one of whom being my friend. He eventually went into shock from blood loss.”

“Like me,” I stated.

“Almost identically. I went into a rage seeing him like that. What happened next was a blur, even a thousand years later. I confronted him and used the darkest of magic to literally melt Sombra right on his throne. What we didn’t know was that he had two contingencies in place: first that if he were to die his spirit would be able to leave his body and roam on this plane of existence; the second being that the city and its inhabitants would disappear should he leave the city’s outermost boundaries for more than an hour. No one knew about these at the time. I sealed his spirit inside one of his own crystals and cast it into the deepest chasm in the nearby mountains.”

“Wait... how did you know to seal his soul in a gem,” I asked, sensing she had skipped over something vital.

“When his body and soul separated he was nothing more than a ghost of himself, unable to directly interact with the world.”

“He needed a host.”

She nodded and shivered, “He tried to take over my body. We wrestled for control for what seemed to be hours. Eventually I managed to gain enough control and grabbed a crystal and channeled his spirit into it, sealing him inside. When I was finished with him I returned to my sister and friend. Unbeknownst to me he had left me with a ‘parting’ gift, a curse. He made a fractured personality in my head, one that whispered half-truths, waiting for me to slip up that would allow it to take over my body. Starswirl theorized that as long as I kept a positive demeanor I could keep it at bay. It lasted only for a few days.”

“Your friend took a turn for the worse, didn’t he?” I asked.

Luna nodded again. Sadness filled her eyes, “I sat at his bedside, waiting for him to rouse from his slumber. Eventually I could feel it, as did the cleric attending him, his spirit was fading away. The voice in my head starting whispering to me, telling me to use my blood and inject it into him. It told me that he wouldn’t die if I did. I had heard of my mother speak of a procedure such as this back when I was younger, she said that would one succeed the patient would live. I injected him with my blood behind my sister’s and the attending cleric’s backs and returned to my place at his side.

“Hours passed and nothing had changed, eventually I fell asleep. I awakened when I felt someone poking me in the ribs, when I looked to see who it was it was none other than my friend, he was alive and well. We were ecstatic and cleric was convinced it was a miracle. That joy was short-lived however, he died the next day after falling into a coma. After that my sister banned the use of our blood for medical uses, save for our own. I fell into a deep depression and that evil personality started to take over more and more of my body until I was nothing more than an observer, watching as it called itself Nightmare Moon, and as it tried to kill the only family I had left.

“In a last-ditch effort I managed to take control just long enough for Tia to use the Elements on me, sending me to the moon.”

“Well that was a little harsh,” I commented, attempting to even comprehend being on the moon’s surface without spacesuit.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, do they not?” she asked, bringing to mind the Halo 3: ODST ViDoc when Buck said a similar phrase. “If it is of any comfort to you, she transported an armchair and a large chunk of our library to keep me company. The Nightmare receded into my consciousness, biding its time, leaving me in control again.”

“Wait, so how did you breathe in the airlessness of space? Last time I checked it was a vacuum.”

“The Elements created a pocket of self-renewing oxygen. Though while the judgment if the Elements may be seen as harsh, they exist to preserve life, even of those who erred.”

“Makes sense. So how does this all correspond with my ‘condition’?” I asked.

“Upon my return I was made aware of my niece, Princess Mi Amoré de Cadenza, more informally known as Cadence, an Angel by birth, had Ascended after understanding the magic of love-” Must... not... make... joke... “-similarly how Twilight recently Ascended after understanding the magic of friendship. At the time I thought nothing of it other than her being family. Fast forward to recent events and the only person with the same blood type near the Crystal Empire was in fact Twilight.”

“But didn't you just say that Royal blood was toxic to anyone who wasn’t?”

“I figured since Twilight had recently Ascended the magics unique to us would still be at a low level, considering that she has yet to be trained to use such powers, save for her wings by her friend Ms. Dash. We didn’t have enough time, nor the magic to teleport to all the different hospitals hoping that they would have your type in stock with an amount that would be adequate for your survival. I gave the suggestion to the head physician who then presented it to Twilight and your wife. Twilight was a little nervous.”

“Trypanophobia?” I asked. This only got me a blank look, “The fear of needles. To be fair that phobia has nothing on hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia, the fear of long words.” I was given another blank look. “The internet is full of useless information to spout out.”

“I’ll take your word for it. But yes, she is sort of squeamish when it comes to needles. Once Twilight agreed, your wife was briefed on the dangers of using Royal blood; she said that in your living will that should you be hospitalized every avenue should be explored before ‘throwing in the towel’.”

“Yeah that sounds like something I would write in an official legal document,” I commented. “So-,” I drummed my fingers on the desk in a way a bored person would, “is that all she wrote?”

“Indeed it is, so ends the tale of your sickness. I shall leave now, you will awaken once your body deems it proper. Fare thee well,” she said before disappearing in that white flash that still left spots in my vision, regardless to the fact it was all in my head. The world started to melt away, like that Salvador Dali clock painting. Then ambient sound faded to nothing. I was floating in a sea of blackness before I knew it. There was even a soft beeping sound; someone needs to turn off their alarm clock.

***

It’s hard to say what it feels like to come out of a coma. It sort of feels like your brain is doing a power cycle. The first thing that came back first was my hearing. I could hear the quiet beeping of an EKG and what sounded like a respirator. Next came smell, yeah the smell of antiseptic definitely confirms that I’m in a hospital. Well my mouth tastes like rubber and plastic, sounds to me like I was intubated at one point. Next touch decided to join the party, I could feel a warm presence holding my hand. I slowly opened my eyes to a darkened room, they must’ve figured that a bright room would blind me.

My head turned slightly to the right and I saw an abundance of ‘get well soon’ cards, some looked older than others. There were a few balloons hanging off of one of those weighted decorative centerpieces in the middle of the cards. Someone had even gone through the trouble of baking an entire platter of cupcakes with a note taped to it saying ‘for when you wake up.’ Well it might be a little longer than the gifter thinks, since they have to get me on solid food again considering that the taste in my mouth is still there, and it feels like a feeding tube. I looked over to my right and there laying down, her red hair splayed out on the bed, was a woman her hand holding mine. I tried to move my hand, but was only able to make it twitch a little.

She started to stir a bit but settled back down to sleep again. I tried again and attempted to say “Hey” but only got out a zombie-like groan. She woke up almost immediately. “Andrew?” she asked through a sleep fueled haze. I gave her another hand squeeze as well as another groan. Her face lit up in elation. “Hold on, I’ll be right back,” she said right before she bolted out of the room. I could hear, “Nurse, get the doctor! He’s awake!”

Less than a minute later the red-haired woman, a doctor, and a nurse came into the room. “Hold on for a second, Mr. Briggs, we’ll have that tube out of you in a jiffy,” the doctor said. The nurse with pink hair removed the tube with me gagging and coughing in tow. My throat felt like the Sahara desert shortly after a sandstorm.

“Water,” I managed to croak out. The nurse immediately went to the sink and filled a glass with water and returned bringing the glass to my lips allowing the life bringing fluid to pour down my throat.

“How are you feeling?” the doctor asked.

Time to be blunt, “Like I got hit by semi. Did anyone get the license plate?”

“Well you are lucky to be alive, sir,” the nurse chimed in. “If it weren’t for the Princesses we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

The redhead grabbed my hand again, tears in her eyes. Tears of joy, “I thought I lost you, but you’re back now. Everything’s going to be ok.”

Something was bugging me, just at the base of my skull. “I do have one question,” I said.

“Of course. What is it, babe?”

“Who are you again?” I asked. The doctor and nurse stopped their tasks and looked at me, the redhead froze up entirely. The room was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.

Author's Note

Fun fact: This is the longest chapter that I have ever written. Why so much? Because it's setup for the next story arc as well as some much needed lore, Pre-Equestria history has so little information on it that it becomes a goldmine on what background you can make in it. I also wrote a good chunk of the raw writing on my phone, editing on the lappy. This is also being published on the same weekend as my cousin's wedding.
Also, final random side note before we get to the references: all chapters (prior to this one) have been checked for content related errors and have been fixed when they were needed. Yay, one less thing to take care of am I right?

Why the cop angle? I blame a CSI: Miami and The Glades binge on Netflix.
There's a Skyrim easter egg in there, can you find it?
AFIS stands for automated fingerprint identification system.
For the record I don’t mean giggle as in “giggling like a schoolgirl,” but in a playful and flirty way.
For the record I have no experience with hypnotism.
The inspiration for this chapter? A mix of Bones episode 426 (season 4, episode 26) “The End in the Beginning” and Stargate SG-1 episode 619 “The Changeling” for concepts I could use.
Before you ask, yes the more confusing things on how he managed to survive impossible odds will be explained LATER, seriously, it works into the story. I'm not making him into Superman, because what fun would there be in that?

I would like to believe that I caught all my errors, if I didn't you know where to find me.

Chapter 26: Error 404, Memories Not Found

Chapter 26: Error 404, Memories Not Found

The room was dead silent, no one spoke a word. “If you don't mind,” the doctor said, breaking the silence. “I would like to ask you a few questions.”

“Go ahead doc, it’s not like I have anything else to do,” I replied, my throat still a little dry.

He took a clipboard and a pen, “What is you name, age, and occupation?”

“Andrew Briggs, twenty-four, and former Army reservist.” The doctor and nurse kept their stoic demeanor while the woman started tearing up. “What’d I say?” I asked, obviously I was the most confused person in the room.

“Don’t worry about that right now, sir. What is the last thing that you remember?”

“The last thing that comes to mind is that I just got off a plane at Phoenix International after a transfer flight from JFK.”

“Anything after that?”

I tried to remember anything further, but it felt as though I was trying to looks through fog thick enough to cut with a knife. “No, sorry doc I’ve got nothing”

“That’s quite alright.” I could see the woman start to sob, “I do have one last question for you: do you know who she is?” he asked pointing to the redhead.

Everything about her felt familiar, yet foreign. “Kind of.”

“Care to elaborate?” he asked. The woman looked hopeful.

“Well...” I started. “She seems to look familiar, but I don’t know why because I haven’t seen her before. When I look at her I feel as though I could tell her anything, even my darkest secrets.”

“Interesting...” he trailed. “Well that’s all I need to know for now. The nurse here is going to do some tests on you, just to see how you’re recovering.” He directed his attention to the redhead, “If you could please join me in the hallway.”

The two walked out of the room, leaving me with the nurse. “So how are you?” she asked while grabbing my charts.

“I’ll be honest, I’ve felt better,” I replied.

She only smiled as she took out a metal instrument with a dull point. “I’m going to gently tap a few areas on your body, please tell me if you feel anything.” I nodded, letting her poke and prod at me. I wonder what they’re talking about in the hallway?

***

Spitfire closed the door behind her and met the doctor by the room’s window. She lifted up the arms of her long sleeved shirt to wipe away a tear that was making its way down her cheek.

“As you could probably guess, not everything is quite alright with your husband.”

“Oh really? What gave it away, the moaning like a zombie or the fact he doesn’t remember his own wife who is standing right in front of him?!?”

“Mrs. Briggs, please calm down. I understand that you’re upset, but being hotheaded about this will only make things worse.”

“Sorry,” she muttered. “It just hurts me to see him like this,” she said as she looked at her beloved through a window being poked and prodded by the nurse.

“I understand how you’re feeling. But if you’ll let me finish I going to say that I need to consult with a colleague of mine, but I believe that he is suffering from amnesia brought on by the physical head trauma he sustained.”

“Is there anything we can do?” she asked hopefully.

“All I can say for now is to talk to him, maybe you’ll kick start his memory.” He set a hand on her shoulder, “You sat at his bedside for three months waiting for him to wake up. You called in every favor you could to get him the best medical care in the country. Take a piece of advice from an old Canterlot doctor: relax. You’re no good to him high-strung. Why don’t you go inside and talk to him.” She only nodded, walking back inside, passing the nurse as she left. “So how is he?”

“As expected he has feeling above his waist, but unexpectedly he also had some feeling in his toes too,” the nurse said, reading off of the charts.

“Well isn’t that interesting. We’ll let them catch up for now,” he said as he walked away.

***

The nurse left with mixed emotions, I could tell by her surprise that something was wrong with my legs that I had no idea of. As quick as the nurse left, the mysterious redhead returned. She sat down where she did before, but she didn’t say anything and kept her head down. Probably in an attempt to stall for time to phrase the right sentence together.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Spitfire,” she replied. The room was quiet again.

“We’re married, aren’t we?” I asked, breaking the silence. “And before you ask if I am remembering this, I’m not. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put one and one together. I may not have complete control over my body, but I managed to steal a glance at my left hand; there is a ring on it as I see a ring on your hand. Then add in the fact you looked enthralled when I woke up and extremely depressed when I said what I said earlier. You being asked out into the hallway by the doctor sealed it, only a loved one can be presented information about a patient when deciding what to do next. Plus last time I checked you weren’t my sister.”

She smiled for a moment, a sad one though. I must’ve brought back a memory of me or something. “Yeah, we are,” she replied.

“How long were we married?”

“In the eyes of the law almost a year and a half, for us a year as of a few days ago.” It was no surprise that I was confused. “Yeah it’s a bit confusing.” She then explained the wedding in Vegas, our agreement, and when things officially changed over for us.

“So we-?”

“Yeah,” she said while blushing.

“In some family’s cabin that we broke in to?” She nodded. “You must’ve really loved me to do something that crazy, and criminal. So how did we meet?”

“Well you were pointing a gun to my head, and I was naked.”

“I didn’t force you to do anything-?”

“No it was justified, I broke into your house.” She then told the tale of her arrival at my house. It was hard to believe. “You aren’t believing a word I’m saying are you?”

“I’d believe a pot smoking hippie who thought they were riding a pink fluffy unicorn dancing on rainbows.” She looked borderline insulted. “Hey, I’m just calling them as I see it.”

“I’m going to show you something, just promise not to freak out,” she requested. “Again,” she muttered under her breath. She took off her shirt, and I just stared at the gifts her momma gave her. I heard what sounded like someone talking underwater. “Andrew,” I heard softly. Then it got louder, “Andrew.” Then a shout, “ANDREW!”

“Yes?” I asked, my eyes shooting to meet hers.

“You can stare at my breasts later. There’s something that you really need to see.”

“Woah,” I said as I noticed the yellow-orange wings stretching out, from her no less.

“You’re taking this a lot better the second time around,” she mused.

“How’d I react the first time?”

“You shouted,” she said bluntly.

“Somehow that sounds like something I’d do,” I chuckled a bit. We talked for a while, mainly learning about family related things that my mind had neglected to keep. I had a newborn nephew, forced my brother-in-law to leave my sister because of infidelity, and my family approving of Spitfire being added to the family. I had lost close to two years of my life, and I remembered nothing of it. Honestly it wad kind of depressing.

“Excuse me, ma’am? Visiting hours are over,” a nurse said politely as she entered the room.

“Of course,” she replied. “If I could just have a moment please?” The nurse nodded in acknowledgment before slipping out of the room. “I know you don’t want me to go, but you heard what she said.”

“You’ll be back tomorrow, right?”

“Of course,” she replied before kissing me on the cheek. “Get some rest now, ok?”

When she left the room, the nurse made her way in. “Andrew, you don’t mind if I call you Andrew, do you?” she asked.

“Whatever makes your job easier,” I replied.

“Well then Andrew, would you like anything to eat before lights out?”

“Well I’d like a sirloin marinated in whiskey, medium-well, a side of onion rings, and an ice cold beer.”

“Uh sir, you aren’t ready for anything quite that solid yet, and alcohol isn’t allowed on hospital premises.”

“In all fairness you asked what I would like. I’ll just have jell-o or something.” She left and returned a short time later with a small bowl of jell-o and a syringe. “What’s in the needle?”

“Just something to help you sleep, sir.” Due to my new lack of arm strength she was forced to feed me, not that I’m complaining, she’s kind of cute. “Is there anything else you need,” she said finishing up, the needle now in the IV line, plunger not yet depressed. I shook my head ‘no’. She pushed down after saying, “Sweet dreams, Mr. Briggs.”

My vision started to darken as my eyelids felt heavy. Without thinking I replied, “You too.” Sleep took me without resistance.

***

I was sitting in an overstuffed leather chair in front of a fireplace. “Thank you for joining me,” a female voice said from beside me. I looked and saw who the voice belonged to. She looked to be around my age, pale skinned, marking on her arms, dark blue wings (folded), ethereal hair with stars, oh and a crown. “Andrew, is everything alright?”

“Umm, not to sound rude or anything, your highness, but who are you?”

“‘Tis a good jest,” she laughed. “Do you not remember our last meeting a few nights ago?” she asked.

“I’d hate to sound blunt in front of royalty, but if I did, would I have greeted you by your name instead of asking who you are?”

She stared at me frustrated before shifting into disbelief. “The words that leave thine tongue speaketh the truth.” She rubbed her temples, “How did this happen?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. I woke up earlier too weak to move anything other than my head.” We sat there in silence, “So why did you swap into Old English there?”

“Sometimes when I am stressed I swap back to old speaking habits I have recently have been trying to update to the standards of today.” She looked depressed again, “It was my fault. I went inside your subconscious to try and coax you out, I must’ve damaged something on my way out. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” she cried out as she clung to me, hoping that it would do something to relieve some of her assumed guilt.

“Uh… there, there?” I replied in an attempt to calm her down. “Sorry, I’m not too good at these kinds of things. Or at least that I’m aware of.”

“‘Tis fine,” she said with a sniffle. “Thou are not yourself.”

“So... what now?”

“I could help you recover the lost memories, however we would have to tiptoe around since I do not want to cause any more damage to your mind. It would take a while.”

“Because ending up a vegetable would certainly suck,” I joked darkly. “By the way, this has been bugging me: how are you able to spend so much time on me, don’t you have other things to do, like more important things?”

“You see, when I enter one’s dream or subconscious time moves slower inside of it, allowing me to spend as much time as needed to deal with whatever issue the dreamer has.”

“Talk about some Inception level shit,” I muttered. “Back to the point though, is there any other way?”

She rubbed her chin as she thought. “Well there is always the ‘wait and see’ method used for years before my return.”

“Can I have some time to think this over? I mean I just woke up and can’t even feed myself, at this point I don’t think that I can make a levelheaded decision.”

“Of course. Just send word to me or my sister when you want to attempt it.”

***

I groggily woke up from my sedative induced sleep to an empty room and it was quiet. The heart monitor was beeping happily along at an even pace. I felt something under my index finger. I looked down and saw that the nurse put some kind of rectangular crystal-like object under my hand, the index finger near the word ‘Call’. Apparently this is the hospital’s version of a call button for the nurses’ station.

I pressed down as hard as I could with little strength I had. My finger twitched a little and touched the word, as soon as it did the entire stone started glowing a soft red. A few seconds later a nurse walked through the door, letting in the noise from outside the hall. She asked me the whole ‘how are you feeling?’ and ‘what can I help you with?’ questions. How was I supposed to answer the first one? Depressed? Helpless?

“Fine,” I answered. I had a feeling she knew that I was lying. “Can I get something to eat?” She nodded and left. I stared at the wall, it’s not like there’s anything else to do. What I wouldn’t give for my phone or laptop right now, even if I can only watch a movie or TV show I downloaded.

The nurse returned a while later, with an intern in tow who was holding a tray of food. “Mr. Briggs this is my intern Silver Lining, she is going to give me a hand in feeding you as I check your vitals. But first I need to check the stitches on your sides. Ms. Lining, a hand please.”

They leaned me forward and removed the bandages covering the areas around my kidneys. As she looked she gave mutterings of approval. “So, how does it look?” I asked.

“Very good, it’ll heal up nicely. Now while I’m back here I’m also going to check on one other thing, just tell me if you feel anything again.”

“Sounds easy enough. So how did this happen anyway?” I asked as she started to prod lightly at the base of my spine.

“No one’s talked to you about it?” the nurse asked.

“Nope, with this whole memory loss thing sort of showed up first on everyone’s radar as ‘worry about it now’.”

“Do you want the long or short of it?”

“Short.”

“Well you came down with a case of magical toxicity from a bad blood transfusion and one kidney died and the other was failing, the only way to save your life was a transplant from a suitable donor.” She poked at the spine again. “Do you feel anything?”

“Yeah, you’re poking me and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop. So how’d I end up like that? I mean it’s not like you do transfusions for small stuff.”

“From what I was told you were in some sort of explosion down near the base of the castle.”

That last part threw me for a loop, “Wait, castle? Where the hell am I?”

“Why sir,” Lining said. “You are at Fethert and the medical college of the Empire.” She looked quite excited about that.

“I’m sorry, where?” The place didn’t seem familiar. They set me back so I was propped up comfortably.

“You’re in the Crystal Empire.” I shook my head. “Residence of Princess Cadence and her husband Crown Prince Shining Armor?” Nope. “We’re a two days train from Canterlot?” Nada. “We’re a commonwealth of Equestria?” Zilch, well it does at least tell me who technically owns the place at least.

“Next you’ll be telling me that we aren’t on Earth,” I joked, chuckling a little. It ended as I saw that the two women weren’t joining in. Their uneasy looks told me everything I needed to know. “We’re not on Earth, are we?”

“Earth, sir?” the nurse asked.

“You know, Terra, the third rock from the sun, the only planet in the solar system capable of sustaining life by itself?”

“Sir, we’re on Equiuus.” That was the biggest bombshell dropped on me. I just sat there in shock saying nothing. “Sir, are you alright?” I could only think of my family, what they were doing, what they thought had happened to me. “Sir?”

“Please leave.” They reluctantly did so, closing the door behind them. I was alone. No friends or family were even on the same rock as me. Even if I have a wife, I don’t remember her. Eventually I fell asleep from sheer boredom.

I woke up a couple of hours later, groggy and hungry. There was a glass of water on the table that went over the bed. I weakly tried to reach for it, it felt as though I had several hundred pounds of lead strapped to my arm. As I moved it I felt my arm shake as if I were Michael J. Fox. When I finally reached the table my arm gave out, landing with a soft thud on the surface. I slowly moved my hand along the table until it was touching the cool glass. I gripped my fingers around it, as I tried to pick up the glass it felt as though I was trying to lift a two ton truck.

Eventually I was able to drag it to the edge of the table, right as the nurse walked in. “Oh my,” she sounded surprised as she quickly made her way to me. She grabbed my arm gently and set it back on the bed. “Now what were you up to?”

“I was thirsty,” I replied.

“You should have used the call button. Here, let me help.” She put a straw in the glass and at least let me drink out of it that way. Achievement unlocked: some dignity saved – 20G. “You need to get back your strength first, though it is good to see that you’re starting to recover.”

“I’m getting tired of this room.”

“You’ve only been awake two days, how bad could it be?”

“You have no TV, no computer, no smartphone, hell I can’t even hold a book. You have no idea how boring it is to count the pitting in the ceiling tiles.”

“But you haven’t been awake that long, sir.”

“You get the point. Seriously, can I get out of this room, even for a little bit?” I pleaded. I knew how boring it was going to be if I weren’t asleep or talking to people.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said as she left the room. “What’s a computer or smartphone?” I swear I heard her ask as the door closed. Well I’m screwed in the entertainment department. A little while later that intern came by and helped feed me, admittedly she is cute so it wasn’t all bad. Eventually the nurse came back, “Well I talked to the doctor about your request, and he said until you get stronger you can’t leave the room. I’m sorry.”

“Well, shit. Do you have anything that will pass the time?”

“Well we do have radios, I can see if the custodian can bring up one later. In the meantime I do believe that you have a few guests that wish to visit you.”

The door opened and in came an African-American man and an Asian-American woman, both either in their mid to late twenties or early thirties. “Hey boss, your wife said you woke up and we thought we should stop by and check up on you,” the man said.

“Boss?” I asked. “Sorry, but I think you have me confused with someone else.”

They both looked at each other. “We don’t look familiar to you at all?” the woman asked.

I studied their faces for a moment, “Nope.”

“She said it was bad, but I had no idea.”

“Sir, this may be hard for you to believe, but you’re our CO,” the man said.

I didn’t believe a word he said, “Right.” I rolled my eyes, “And I’m waiting for the camera crew to appear to yell ‘smile, you’re on Candid Camera’!” But they didn’t show any of the classic signs of lying. “You’re dead serious, aren’t you?” They nodded, “What idiot made me a CO?”

“Well sir, it’s a bit of a long story. One which even I don’t know all of the details of.”

***

Spitfire sat in the office of the doctor in charge of her husband. “Yes. Of course. Thank you Dr. Feelgood,” he said as he hung up.

“Well?” she asked nervously. “What’s the word?”

He sighed as he removed his glasses. “It is as we feared: retrograde amnesia.”

“Is there anything we can do? I heard that Princess Twilight used a memory recollection spell to help get her friends out of a slump a few years ago,” she suggested desperately.

“Unfortunately that spell would only work if the caster had the same memories that were going to be restored. Princess Twilight used that spell to target specific memories that would then chain to another by themselves without her continuing the spell.”

“Well couldn’t I just allow her to look into my memories and let her restore the important ones and let the others fall into place?”

“In theory, yes it would work.” Her face lit up in hope, “But you would also have to share extremely intimate memories with the caster.” Her cheeks reddened at the thought. “Yes, those type of ‘intimate moments’ as well.”

Spitfire regained her composure. “Can’t we still try it? I am willing to do anything,” she pleaded.

The doctor sighed, “There’s no guarantee that it’ll work. You have to understand that the brain is a very complex organ. Even if the procedure is a success from a spell perspective there’s still a chance that you’ll only be showing him your memories instead of replacing what was lost.”

“What do you mean, doctor?” she asked confused.

“Think of it like watching a motion picture, but add in emotions and other feelings as you replay those memories. He’ll still feel those emotions as he sees things as you saw and felt them, but that’s it. He may acknowledge that without a doubt everything that happened during the time you were married, but won’t have memories of his own to remember any of it.”

“What else is there that we can do?”

“Other than try to remind him of things that happened in the past and hope that jogs his memory, all we can do is wait and see.”

***

“Ok, so you’re telling me I’m the team leader of a squad of genetically modified soldiers running out of Groom’s Lake AKA Area 51?” I asked with disbelief.

“Yes, sir. And you were one of the first ones,” the woman replied.

“Lang was it?” I asked her and she nodded. “Do you have any proof of these claims?”

Her arms glowed with a green aura and the glass on the table was surrounded with the same aura and floated over to her, landing in her hand. “These are also yours, sir,” she floated over a set of dog tags so I could see them.

“Nice trick, do you do kids’ parties?” I read the lines stamped into the metal. ‘Captain Andrew Briggs’ followed by my service number, blood type, and preferred religious chaplain. “Good fakes, so where’s the group of people ready to jump out and yell ‘April fools!’?”

“Jones, get me a mirror,” she said and Jones nodded. She snapped her fingers and the hospital gown lifted up and what felt like a low level electrical current was running through something on my back. “Jones, if you would please?” He held the mirror in front of me allowing to see behind me. There was a set of wings, not unlike Spitfire’s, but black. “Now do you believe us, sir?”

“Those are real, right?” I asked. I was tempted to poke one, but in my current physical condition I could not.

“They are,” Jones replied.

“So… real feathers, real bone and muscles?”

“Indeed.”

“Well… this is new.”

“Now do you believe us, sir?”

“How do I know she isn’t using some sort of illusion?” I asked skeptically. They had good poker faces, either they were telling the truth or are experienced liars.

Her hands glowed again and this time the aura surrounded my right wrist and gently moved it over close enough to touch one of the wings. I reached out with a finger and touched it. I was expecting to feel plastic or even to pass through it, to my surprise it was soft, downy, and warm. And to even add more shock to the table I actually felt the feather being touched, meaning there were nerves in place making this real. They let me sit back again on the bed.

“But how? I don’t even...” I stammered, trying to understand what was going on.

“Do you believe us now?” Lang asked. But I didn’t answer, a thousand thoughts were racing through my mind.

“I think you broke him,” he mused. “Boss? Hello?” He waved a hand in front of my face. My attention snapped to him. “Are you ok?”

“I think so?” I asked unsure of how I really do feel. On the one hand I have wings, but on the other hand it’s like I’m not quite human anymore. That Lang woman was able to do things with her mind like levitation while Jones was stronger than the average guy, like way stronger as in he could dent solid steel if he wanted to without breaking a sweat; then there’s me, the oddball with wings. They can at least look like a normal human while I can’t.

While thinking this I didn’t notice the door open. “Hi honey, I just wanted to stop by and- what’s wrong, what happened?” Spitfire asked with worry.

“I think Jones broke him,” Lang replied.

“I did not,” he retorted.

“Well what DID you do?” she accused.

“Well... we may have told him that he has wings,” he flinched a bit after saying it quickly.

“You WHAT!?!” she yelled, which brought me out of my thoughts. “I thought we were going to break it to him gently.”

“I’m sorry. He started asking questions and one thing lead to another and that lead to us showing him his wings,” Lang explained.

Spitfire sighed while pinching the bridge of her nose. “What else did you tell him?”

“Just that he is the captain of our little squad, and that about sums it up,” Jones answered.

She said nothing for a moment, a vein pulsing on her forehead. “Fine, but next time wait for me, especially with topics that could be considered sensitive.”

“And in case you’ve forgotten said person is still in the room and awake,” I cut in.

Spitfire came over and sat on the edge of the bed, taking my hand in hers. “I’m sorry, honey. I just wanted you to hear stuff like that from me instead.”

“Well it’s sort of my fault, I sort of asked the right questions that revealed them.”

“Well…” she paused trying to find the right words. “Are you ok?”

“I guess. I mean it’s all so… surreal. I mean I know I’m human, but at the same time I feel as though I’m not.”

She gripped my hand a little more firmly, “Well I’m here for you if you ever want to talk.”

We all talked for a while, mostly small talk. No real information from my past was really divulged. Sometime in the afternoon the nurse took me to get a CT scan, or at least their version of one; they couldn’t do a MRI because of the metal shard embedded in my spine, plus I have no desire to have something forcibly ripped out of me by magnets. It didn’t take long fortunately, but as they helped me back into the wheelchair I saw the looks on some of the technicians’ faces: confusion, which in turn concerned me, something that showed once they got me back into my bed. Waiting for me was Spitfire as well as two newcomers I had never seen before.

“Andrew, is everything ok?” Spitfire asked, noticing my concern for something.

Well regardless if I remember it or not, she is my wife. “Hopefully yes. I saw some looks of confusion on the techs’ faces as I got out of the ‘doughnut.’ Hopefully it’s nothing, but I have a feeling that the doc will be having a word with you about it,” I replied and she only nodded. Apparently I must’ve said things like this before because this didn’t surprise her in the slightest.

“Observant, aren’t we?” the female newcomer asked with a smirk.

As I looked at her I saw that she was quite attractive. Long legs, a slender hourglass shaped torso, a nice set of ‘assets,’ some muscle on the arms that said she could handle herself in a fight, and a face that would make any ‘girl next door’ type jealous. The odd thing about her was the pink hair with blue and blonde highlights, must be a bitch for her hairdresser to maintain. I even noticed at this distance the wispy pale blue markings on her arms that looked like they were rising like smoke from her wrists, occasionally there would be a heart shaped marking similar to those Open Heart pendants that sold like wildfire years ago. I could have sworn that I saw a pink feather sticking out from behind her. The man next to her was an inch shorter than her, had the physique of a soldier or bodybuilder, and had similar markings on his arms but in a pinkish-purple coloring instead of blue.

“I’m sorry-?” I trailed allowing for her to finish.

“Princess Cadence,” she finished. “And this is my husband, Shining Armor,” she gestured to the blue haired man next to her.

Royalty, great. “Though I’d like to bow or salute or whatever it is your people do right now, but as you can see my muscles decided to take a vacation and have yet to return. I might fire them if they don’t show up to work soon.” She let out a slight chuckle while her husband and Spitfire rolled their eyes. At least this Candy-person is polite and has a sense of humor.

“There is no need to do so as we are here unofficially.”

“Ah. Well good because I think the good doc has no desire to restitch me anytime soon. Not to be rude, but why are you here?”

“Well we came to see how the owner of one of my kidneys is doing.”

It dawned on me that she was the one that effectively saved my life. “It was you?” She nodded, “Why?”

“Well I couldn’t let the beloved of one of my aunts’ subjects die without attempting to save them.”

“Plus someone dying on your front lawn tends to bring the property value down,” the man known as Shining added.

“Shining!” she yelled at him and he only shrugged it off. “I’m sorry for the way he’s acting.”

“I like him, he has the same kind of dark humor that I have,” I said amused.

After a moment of awkward silence Cadence asked, “So how is the kidney treating you?”

“Well I’m not in a coma anymore and I’m feeling better than I was last night. Except...”

“Except-?”

“He has memory loss,” Spitfire finished for me. “He can’t remember anything of our time together.”

“May I try something?” she asked me.

“Uh... sure?” I replied. She walked over and placed her hand on my forehead. My temples felt like they had a heating pad attached to them. The feeling ended a minute later when she stepped back with a smile on her face. What did she just do?

“Well I have good news, deep down he still loves you even if he doesn’t know why exactly,” she said to Spitfire. That seemed to give her some sort of relief.

“Does that mean you can-?” Spitfire started to ask.

“Unfortunately I do not know the spell nor do I have the finesse to return his memories.” Spitfire looked saddened again. “Do not worry though, even if you have to make new memories to replace those that were lost, he will love you the same as he did before you returned.”

“How would you know that?” I asked.

“The heart knows what the heart wants,” she replied cryptically with a smile before she too walked out of the room.

***

The Badlands

The queen of the changelings walked slowly along the balcony that overlooked sprawling underground cityscape beneath her, her fingers trailing on the railing as she walked along. In her mind she could hear the minds of her thousands of subjects. She remembered the first day, almost six months ago, when she defeated her mother and was awarded control of the swarm. One voice showed up in her mind saying ‘Long live the queen’ as if someone were speaking next to her, it was followed by hundreds, then thousands until all she could hear was shouting that drove her to her knees in pain. Now it was nothing more than a buzzing in the back of her mind.

She had complete control of the swarm, sans whatever personal guards had left with her mother. If she desired something to drink, a drone would appear with whatever she was thirsting for. If she desired sustenance a drone would appear a short time later with either a gem that stored ‘love’ energy or the occasional dish that a human would eat. She never had to say a word, the swarm knew when their queen needed something and the urgency of that need. The link to the swarm is also a two-way street, if there was something that the swarm desperately needed she was made aware of it, usually loud enough to give her migraines. How her mother ever put up with this, she’ll never know.

She could feel the presence of one of her advisors entering the room intending to speak with her, “My queen,” he said. She turned around to see him on a knee with his head bowed down.

“What is it?” she asked slightly annoyed.

“Our agents have reported in, they are all in position and are ready for further instructions.”

She smiled, the next phase of her plan was almost ready to begin. “Excellent. Tell them to stay ‘under the radar,’ so to speak for now until I give the command to do otherwise.”

“What shall they do in the meantime, my queen?”

“Do what they do best: feed. But keep it discreet. We don’t want the Equestrians to catch on quite yet, not until it’s too late for them to do anything.”

“Pardon, you highness?”

“Come here,” she said gesturing to the railing. He walked over and saw what his queen was looking at not five minutes before. “What do you see?”

“Drones, my queen.”

“And what do drones do?”

“They work.”

“But do they fight?”

“Not unless the hive is being attacked.”

“Now what happened to a large majority of our army, advisor?”

“A large portion did not survive the assault on Canterlot three years ago.”

“Precisely. We need enough time to bolster our ranks.” She turned around to face her advisor. “Tell our agents to be on the lookout for high quality specimens as they go about their ‘lives’.”

“It shall be done. All hail Queen Instara!” he said before leaving the room.

Instara moved over to her mirror and looked at herself. Even for a Changeling she would be considered attractive to humans and other species of this planet, if they didn’t want her kind extinct that is. Her blue-green hair accented by a lone cyan strand hung down. “Soon it will all be mine,” she said with a smile creeping up her face.

***

The doctor looked at the scan every which way and yet he still couldn’t make heads or tails of it. He had let other doctors take a look at is as well but they were just as confused as he was. The radiologists claimed that the equipment may be faulty, while the surgeons were amazed that something like this was going on based on the fact they had nothing to do with it. Eventually the doctor sat down at his desk staring at the scans in the folder.

“How does a shard of metal just disappear from the human body entirely?” he asked in frustration to the gods above. He looked closer at the vertebrae and saw what looked like strands of metal. “Hello there…” he said as his interest peaked. ‘This is going to require some more tests,’ he thought to himself.

Author's Note

Ok so the reason I call the Crystal Empire a commonwealth of Equestria is because of how I’ve seen the show treat them. First of all they have a separate ruler/governing body from Equestria but allow citizens from both countries to go freely from one to the other without passports or other official documents, something seen with the citizens of Puerto Rico. They come and go as they please and have a say in the US government inside of the House of Representatives but have no official vote (for example the Electoral College), yet have full citizenship of the US and vote for their own governor. That’s where the idea primarily came from. Information was gathered from Wikipedia.
The hospital's name is a play on words of a real hospital that I know of.
Nope, the advisor doesn’t get a name, but Chrysalis’ daughter does all thanks to the suggestion brought to me by Wertmon505. He also kneels like Vader does in The Empire Strikes Back.
Before anyone gets on the “you told us they have WWII timeframe tech but they have CT/MRI scans” bandwagon I am going to explain that. It is well documented that in the show they have an archaic military in terms of today’s standards yet have electricity to put on full on fashion shows and have EKG monitors in their hospitals. Now it wouldn’t be that far of a stretch to say advance the tech to what I set the standard for their military and the tech in the medical field would also advance to what we have here circa 2014. So in other words they’re focusing more on infrastructure and medicine for their advances in technology rather than military except when it’s needed. This will be explained in depth further in a later chapter (in at least one to two, three at the most depending on content that I want to put in the individual chapters).

I still have yet to decide on how to present the dragons, griffins, and other sentient races will look in my storyverse. That being said descriptions of them will remain vague at best until a decision has been reached. Their cultures however will be talked about if brought up.

I would like to think I've caught all my mistakes and errors (however this was published at 4am local time). Should I not have go ahead and call me out on them and I'll fix them as soon as possible. Need to get in contact with me? You know what to do.

Chapter 27: Answers

A/N: Sorry about the almost month wait for the update on this guys. You know how it is: distractions such as work, running a youtube channel, attempting to get back to school, more work (seriously, I work a lot), and being around the ladyfriend. Now without further ado, chapter 27. I apologize ahead of time for any errors that I may have missed, I finished editing this at 2am (local) while nodding off.

Chapter 27: Answers

It’s been about three weeks since the visit by the land’s resident princess and crown prince. Since then I regained the full range of motion in my arms and hands, though I can’t lift as much I used to, well at least now. In summary I can move everything above my waist, however using my back muscles tends to leave a nasty jolt of pain behind. As for my memory, nothing has come back to me yet. There had been nights that the nurses say I’ve been waking up at night screaming in pain while grabbing at the bullet wounds that had already healed and the kicker was I wouldn’t remember what I was screaming about. The hospital shrinks said that night terrors were common with PTSD, especially those with injuries like mine. What surprised them, and me, the most was that I wasn’t showing any signs of PTSD outside of these night terrors. They gave me some kind of sleeping pill to take before bed that would make my sleep dreamless.

My days were a boring routine. Wake up, eat, get jabbed by a few needles to take some blood samples, more x-rays and CT scans once a week otherwise physical therapy sessions instead, eat lunch, get visited by Spitfire and sometimes the squad, eat dinner, say goodbye, read for the last few hours before ‘lights out’, take the pills, sleep, and then wake up and do it again. There were times when no one was around and I brought out my laptop that I brought for some reason, and for that matter someone had brought it through with them. However I wasn’t going to kick a gift horse in the mouth because I finally had time to go through my Steam library of games. Regrettably I had never gotten around to playing The Stanley Parable, Transistor, or Metro 2033 amongst others and now it looks like I’ll have the chance to do so.

“Mr. Briggs?” a woman asked. I hit pause and looked up at the woman and saw that she was a nurse holding my lunch. “I have your lunch.”

“Just leave it there on the table, Nurse Redheart,” I replied kindly. She set it on the table and left with a smile. Nice lady.
I was amazed how Spitfire was able to get my power adapter to work with their power system. Apparently she and Lang, oddly enough the squad’s unofficial tech expert, were able to Jerry rig a cable compatible using the charger component and what was over simplified as a power transformer. I sort of tuned out the details mainly because as long as it works I really don’t need to know how it works.

A few hours later I opened one of the videos from some show I was apparently watching. Right as the opening credits started a pair of hands covered my eyes.

“Guess who?” the female voice said.

My mind went into panic mode initially, but I knew of only one person that would do this. “Clairece, when did you get here? Have you seen Wanda?” I asked in a faux British accent.

“Really?” she deadpanned. “Quoting Fairly Odd Parents?”

She removed her hands from my eyes, “Yeah,” she was giving me the look again. “What? Cosmo is a hilarious idiot,” I said with an innocent smile.

She gave me a soft kiss on the lips, “You’re lucky I love you.”

“That’s good, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to do this-,” I trailed before playfully tapping her nose with my finger.

She sat down in the seat next to the bed and watched the show for a bit before she spoke up again. “So...”

“So...?”

“Has anything come back to you yet?” she asked hopefully.

“No. Nothing new on the Western Front,” I replied. She looked a little sad. Probably because the doc said something along the lines that my memory might start to recover slowly in the following days and weeks. So far nothing has consciously returned. There was a moment of silence, “You know, I’m kind of scared.”

“What do you mean?” She had a quizzical look.

I paused the episode and sighed, “Well there’s the slight possibility that I won’t like what I was.”

She sat next to me in the bed, wrapping her arm around me before laying her head down on my shoulder. “You were and are still a kind man and loving husband. You’d be willing to go through hell and back for me. You even went as far as to hold a loaded gun to the head of a scientist for messing with your niece, and punch your brother-in-law for cheating on your sister. I love you, no matter what,” she said before kissing me again.

“Thanks,” I said after breaking the kiss. “But that doesn’t mean I’m still not scared of what is in my memory.”

She set her head back in my shoulder again. “Whatever it is,” she said taking my hand. “We’ll get through it together.” We sat there watching several shows until we both drifted off into a midafternoon nap, it probably didn’t help that the sun was shining through warming the room to an optimal napping temperature. I woke up a while later when a tap on my shoulder interrupted a wonderful dream, which for some reason I can’t recall. I looked down to see that Spitfire’s hair had been cut short, like it was when we first met.

“Mr. Briggs?” a male voice asked. Standing next to me was the doctor. I held a finger to my lips then pointed to Spitfire. He nodded in acknowledgement.

“Anything wrong doc?” I asked.

He looked down for a moment, as if he were trying to find the right words to say. “I’m going to be straight with you. This is one of the few times in my medical career where I don’t know what to say.”

“Please just tell me doc.”

He took a deep breath in before exhaling slowly. “The good news is that the shard in your spinal column is gone, however an unknown mass of metal has appeared in its place. We would do a MRI scan to see what it is, but it appears to be magnetic so that option is out of the question.”

“What else can you do?”

“We could attempt an exploratory surgery to see directly what it is. You can have it performed here, but according to a request made by your wife you are going to be transferred to Canterlot General for the remainder of your treatment and rehab. We have ample doctors both here and there. You being the patient you can choose either. I figure you’ll want to discuss it with your wife, let me know what you decide,” he said before leaving the room.

That left me with questions I was asking myself such as ‘would this even help them figure out what’s wrong with me?’ and ‘will this work or is this just a waste of time?’ I sighed in both frustration. Apparently my movement must’ve disturbed Spitfire since she woke up.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked sleepily. To be honest she’s kind of cute when she’s sleepy.

“So when were you going to tell me that you were going to have me transferred?” I asked playfully.

“Well I’m going to be transferred back to Canterlot, don’t you want to come with?” she asked.

“Of course I do,” I say giving her a kiss on the cheek. “It would have been nice to know ahead of time though.” I proceeded to tell her about the procedure. I could already tell that she had come concerns.

“So they pretty much want to slice into your back again and see why the fragment is missing but a structure of some kind has taken its place?” She pretty much summarized it in one sentence.

“What do you think?”

“Do you think it has anything to do with those nanomachines still in your body?” she asked which I returned with a confused look. “Didn’t Jones and Lang tell you about them?”

“No…”

She told me of the background concerning my modifications. Nanomachines injected into my bloodstream using a template of her neural structure and musculature as a reference from her DNA then made the correct adjustments to my body in the short span of a week.

“So I’ve got these little robits swimming around my body doing God knows what?”

“Well from what I know they were just there to build what it needed to. I assume if you were a mage you’d have conduits built along your arms to channel your magic.”

“And those channels are…?”

“The markings on their arms.”

“Ah.”

“Each one is unique to each individual mage. They usually look generically wispy until the mage finds their specific field of magic they excel at; then their markings shift slightly to show what that specialty is. They’re usually pretty subtle and you have to look for them. As you saw on Princess Cadence’s arms you may have seen the occasional heart shape in the markings, well that’s because she specializes in Love Magic.”

It dawned on me, “That’s why she was able to say that I still loved you back when they first visited without her having a shadow of a doubt.”

“Correct. Prince Shining Armor has the occasional old style shield that appears, Princess Luna has stars, there’s this DJ that runs a nightclub in Canterlot that has the occasional sound wave, and of course there are many more that I could mention.”

“I feel as though we’ve gotten a little off topic. What do you think I should do?”

She sat there with her ‘thinking face’ for a few minutes. “Well if you do it here I’ll have to leave shortly after since I’m needed at the base in Canterlot and you’ll be alone for the most part until you are considered well enough to travel. However if you wait a few days you can have the procedure done at the new hospital where I can visit you in my downtime. I already have an apartment lined up as well. The only downside is that you might have to dodge my somewhat overzealous fan base.”

“Overzealous?” I asked curiously.

She scratched her head nervously, “Well a few of my more dedicated male fans were extremely displeased.”

“They just sound a little butthurt,” I said with a slight chuckle.

“Well you’ve heard about celebrity stalkers. That guy that wanted to impress what's-her-name by shooting Regan is no exception to the rule.” She paused for a moment, tightening her grip around my waist. “I guess I’m a little worried that they’ll do something, especially since you’ll be confined to a chair, wheelchair, or bed for a while.”

“You forget that I’m a pretty good shot.”

“Who hasn’t fired a single shot in almost four months,” she interrupted.

“Touché. Plus it’s not like they’d let me out of here anyway to go to a firing range.”

We sat there for a little while, she started caressing my arm. “Did you want to go down to the sun room?” I nodded. She slid off the bed and rolled over the chair, oh how I loathe the thing. I swung my legs over the ledge where they dangled with nothing to stop them.

I held out my arms. “Carry me,” I joked.

“You know that will never happen,” she deadpanned.

“It was worth a try,” I joked. “But seriously, can you give me a hand?”

She rolled her eyes and let me put my arm around her shoulders as she moved me over to the wheelchair. A minute later she and I were down the hallway. I was still in one of those annoyingly thin, non-insulating patient gowns. Personally I would have settled for a set of scrubs. She eventually got us down to the sunroom. It was sort of a greenhouse-like addition to the hospital. I was taken throughout the hospital over the last few weeks and I saw that the complex had been added on multiple times as they got more funding since I assume that this building was repurposed shortly after that tyrant Somber or whatever his name was banished from existence for a second time.

Spitfire stopped right where there was a ray of light coming through the window. It was nice, I have to get back out into the sun again when I get out of here. I look as pale as that albino guy from the Benchwarmers movie from years ago. She pulled up a chair from one of the tables along the windows and sat beside me, leaning on my shoulder with her head. We sat there for a while before the doctor on my case found us.

“Ah, there you are I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he said walking over in front of me. “Have you decided on what you want to do?”

I looked to Spitfire before turning back to the physician, “Yes, sir, I believe I have.”

***

Inside the sterile room stood a team of surgeons ready to do what their job dictated. Their hands in the air showing they were covered. A tray contained various instruments and cutting utensils to use; meanwhile the still unconscious form of a male Angel lying on the operating table facedown.

“Alright ladies and gents, we’re here to day to find out why this man has a strange formation of metal in his spinal column,” the head surgeon said to the assembled. “Let’s make this quick and clean and this fine gent will be out of here in no time.” He came closer to the patient and held his hand out, “Scalpel.” A nurse complied and handed him one. He slowly brought the nigh monomolecular blade to the patch of skin exposed. “Making first incision.”

***

Spitfire woke up for the umpteenth time after drifting off to sleep in the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room. Hours passed as she read old magazines and yesterday’s issue of the Canterlot Sentinel, the local newspaper. There wasn’t anything of interest in it other than a column that stated that she had ‘returned to the city with a mysterious man who she seemed close to.’ It was at this point she was missing the technology from back on Earth, the internet especially. ‘Maybe some of the Crystalline and Air Force scientists that made the trip could come up with it,’ she thought to herself.

Eventually she drifted off to sleep again, mainly out of sheer boredom. She dreamt of the honeymoon they had, in the real world anyone near her could see the smile on her face. Eventually her pleasant dreaming was interrupted by a mage in green scrubs.

“How’d it go doc?” she asked groggily.

“Well I’m not quite sure how to say this...” he started to say with his Scoltish accent while Spitfire’s eyes widened in horror. “But we’re dumbfounded.”

“Um... what?” she asked trying to shake off her own confusion, as well as some anger at the doctor for making this more dramatic than it needed to be.

He brought out the case folder and opened it to a photo. “As you can see here,” he said showing it to her. “As you can see here, there are what looks like sliver colored filaments connecting the severed spinal column; however as shown in previous x-ray and CT scans, the original metal mass is gone.” Spitfire looked just as confused as the surgeon felt. “That was what my face looked like when I saw it in person.”

“Well what is it doing? It isn’t natural in the slightest.”

“One of the interns joked that we should attach a voltage meter to these filaments. Just for shits and giggles we allowed one to touch and lo and behold there was a faint charge flowing from the upper portion into the metal, but only continuing both ways on specific ones.”

“What does this mean?” she asked, still confused.

“It means there is a slim possibility that he might walk again, if all of the signals from the lower portion can be returned back that is.”

***

My eyes opened from a drug induced stupor. I quite literally blinked and one moment I was in an operating room with a mask over my face and the next I was in a recovery room lying on my stomach. Apparently they didn’t want me screwing up their sutures, which is fine by me since I like to sleep this way anyway. I could see a red blur sitting right if front of me. I blinked it away and sitting there patiently was Spitfire.

“Hey,” I said tiredly.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Tired. Sore. Nothing new here.” She gave me a soft kiss on the lips. “I think I’m starting to feel a little better,” I said with a bit of a smile.

“Good, because I’ve got some great news,” she said sounding excited.

“Hmm?”

“I talked to the surgeon after he was done, nice guy. Anyway, he said that there might be a chance that you could walk again.”

“But... how?” She proceeded to explain what the doctor said about the mysteriously deemed ‘filaments’ of metal that had spawned out of nowhere and had taken residence in between the two severed parts of my spine. “What do you think caused it?”
She thought for a moment with her hand to her chin. “Maybe it has something to do with those nanites that are still in your body? I saw you cut yourself once while replacing something on your motorcycle. By the time you washed it off it was already healed.”

“That brings up another question: if these things can heal me almost instantaneously, why didn’t they finish the job?”

“Maybe the damage was too much for them to handle on their own? That cut you had wasn’t very deep to begin with,” she shrugged.

“Or maybe they *yawn* ran out of building material in order to replicate to replace everything that was damaged,” I said before yawning again. There must still be some of the anesthetic still in my system.

“I think I’ll have a word with the scientists that came with us, maybe even Lang and see if they can shed some light on this.” My eyes started to close right after she yawned too. “In the morning that is,” she said with a slight giggle. She leaned over and gave me a small kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Ok,” I said sleepily. “Love you,” was the last thing I said before I slipped yet again in the oblivion of sleep.

***

A blast wave from an explosion hit me and made me stumble a few feet back. The ringing in my ears told me that it was close when it detonated. I looked in front of me to see one of the surviving members of the base’s security saying something, but I couldn’t quite read his lips at the speed he was going. My hearing started to come back with what sounded like a lower pitched tea kettle with boiling water rushing out.

“Sir, they’re coming from all sides!” he yelled.

“How long do you need?” I yelled to a scientist hiding behind a HMVV who held one of the Tokarev’s from the Russians from earlier. It looked like he’s never held a gun before.

“At least ten minutes!” he shouted back.

I looked around the area we have under our control. Then I spotted it. “Jones!” I yelled and he ducked behind his cover, pausing his firing to look at me. “Drag that Humvee over for the doc to use as cover!” He nodded. “Everyone else, suppressing fire!”

***

My eyes snapped open, my breathing shallow and fast. I could hear the EKG rapidly beeping. A nurse was standing over me holding a full syringe of God knows what in it. My breathing started to slow down and she put it down.

“Sir, are you alright?” she asked, obviously worried about her charge.

“Yes. It was just a bad dream… I think,” I replied.

“That was probably a night terror,” the nurse replied calmly.

“But I don’t feel terrified, maybe alert, but not terrified. What time is it anyway?” She said it was 9am, so it was a little pointless to go back to sleep, regardless how restless I was. Before she left to finish her morning rounds if she could have some coffee sent up. Sometime during whatever happened the precious night I managed to roll over, since the nurse didn’t roll me back over I assumed that I was fine lying this way.

I passed the next few hours until lunch playing more of the games on my laptop, thank God for Pokémon emulations. Those really helped me retain my sanity last the last two weeks since it’s the perfect time killer. It was right when I was in the middle of conquering the Elite Four for the fourth time when Spitfire came in.

“Afternoon, sweetie,” she said happily, snapping me out of the ‘zone’ I was in.

“Hey. Why are you so happy, did something good happen?” I asked.

She took her seat at my bedside, like she always did. “Actually yes, I do. So I was talking to one of the scientists who came with us who has knowledge of nanotechnology, specifically how it can be used in the medical field, he said that he could take a look at the code being used and see why they stopped when they did.”

“When did they say they could look at it?”

“The one I talked to said next week was the earliest. Apparently she’s working on a TV that works using their technology. Soon we’ll be able to televise all sporting events, especially the Equestrian Games for those who can’t make it.”

“That does sound great. By the way, how did those go? I bet you kicked ass,” I asked with amusement.

“Well… they didn’t let me compete since I missed the trials since I was still with you back on Earth, however the Princesses allowed me to be one of the coaches for the Cloudsdale team.”

“Well that was nice of them. Too bad I missed it though, I bet it was a blast,” I said sounding slightly disappointed. What? I wanted to see how similar the events were to the Olympic Games.

“Not necessarily,” she replied. This piqued my interest. “The games that finished were the winter games. The summer games will be taking place closer to June and July.”

“Oh, so do you think you’ll try out for that?”

“I can’t see why not,” Spitfire replied. “We got a little sidetracked. So how has your day been?”

“You know, the usual. Playing Pokémon until I get bored, watch some of the movies that I’ve already watched several times, look back at a dream I had last night.”

“Oh really?” she asked with interest, leaning in as if she were a child ready to hear a story being told by a parent. “What was it about?”

“I’m not quite sure exactly, I’m pretty sure I don’t have the right context.”

“Well tell me anyway, maybe I can. I may not be a psychologist, but I do have this thing called ‘intuition’,” she finished using air quotes to make her point.

“Well... I was in a hangar, there was a firefight going on, and for one reason or another I told Jones to drag a humvee over as cover. Crazy, right?” I said with a wry laugh. I looked back over to Spitfire and saw that her jaw dropped and just stared at me. “Uhh... what did I say wrong?”

“Andrew, baby, that actually happened,” she said with shock.

“Wait, what?”

“What I mean to say is that what you ‘dreamt’ was part of a memory you lost. Quick, does anything else come to mind?” she stammered the question out quickly.

I thought for a moment before giving up from the migraine starting to form. “Sorry, there’s still a large gap in between when I returned home and that little flashback,” I replied dejectedly.

“That’s ok,” she replied reassuringly with a sad smile. “I’m just glad that something came back rather than nothing.”

“I just wish it was something-.”

“Happier?” she finished for me. I nodded. “As do I, baby. As do I,” she said while caressing my hand. She helped me scoot over a little and she sat down next to me, leaning on me gently as not to irritate the recently sewn together flesh.

“You know what?” I asked after a moment of tender silence.

“Hmm?” Spitfire practically hummed.

“I didn’t make one Motley Crue joke when Dr. Feelgood was around,” I said slightly amused.

***

The hours passed and eventually the married duo fell asleep on the hospital bed. Due to it being the cold season, the sun set at an earlier time than at the Summer Solstice. Eventually one of these two’s slumber was interrupted by a well-placed tapping of the shoulder. Spitfire woke up from her nap to see her husband sleeping peacefully from exhaustion. She looked over towards where she was roused from her slumber.

“Mrs. Briggs,” he said quietly. “If you could please step outside for a moment.”

She slowly moved off of the bed, making sure not to wake her loved one. She stepped outside the room, where the soundproofing for the room ended and she could hear the controlled chaos of the hospital. She let the door close as quietly as she could. She turned to face the doctor. “You needed something?”

He adjusted his glasses before speaking. “Yes, it’s concerning our medical Mages borderline inability to speed up the recovery. As you may have noticed, usually we would have a case like this fixed within a week or so, taking out the time it would take for the therapy to restore full functionality of the body. However for some odd reason the magic based treatments aren’t taking effect while the more traditional methods are.”

“Doctor, that’s a little hard to believe. The medic on Andrew’s three man team, Corporal Lang, was able to use her limited use of magic to suppress the internal bleeding as well as one of the bullet wounds,” Spitfire replied in disbelief.

“That is what is confusing my staff and I the most. Before he enters the coma: susceptible to magic, awakens from coma: borderline immune.”

“Borderline immune?” one passing in the hall could see the confused look on her face.

“Perhaps I should have started with that first, my apologies. What I meant to say was that the magic treatments CAN work, it just takes an obscene amount of magic being used by the healer in order to fix a minor cut that may need conventional stitches.”

“Well what do you think is going on?”

He sighed and cleaned his glasses off with the shirt part of his scrubs. “I talked to several healers and non-healer mages alike. I even talked to one of the airmen that came with you when he came in for a physical the other day, and they all agreed on one thing: energy cannot be created nor destroyed, only transferred.”

“The Laws of Conservation of Mass?” she asked. The doctor looked confused at that phrase. “Sorry, that’s what they call it back on Earth.”

“No need for apologies,” he waved his hand. “But if this Law is the same as it works with the Laws of Exchange in reference to energy, then yes, it is the same. Ma’am, this is one of the most unique cases that I have ever worked on in my twenty-five years of medicine, I have no idea what is going on to be honest.” Spitfire looked worried at the mention of that shortcoming, “However do not worry, I will look into any and every possibility.”

She walked back into the room and gasped when she saw the unexpected, the doctor walked in as well and his jaw dropped when he saw the same. While inside looked normal, the occupant didn’t. The arms on his unconscious body were glowing a blue-green, identical to Andrew’s eye color; floating near his body was a tray that was used earlier had an aura of the same coloring floating around him as if he were a planet and it were a moon or satellite.

She moved quickly to his side and shook him awake. As his eyes opened the generic mage marking on his arms disappeared, as did the aura around them and the tray, allowing it to clatter to floor.

“Intriguing indeed,” the doctor muttered as he left the two to an attending nurse who heard the noise.

***

I woke up to a gentle shaking rocking my body and a slight tingling in my fingertips. I looked up to see the worried face of my wife. “Hey, is it morning already?” I asked groggily. I looked and saw that it was dark outside. “Either I’ve slept in or I’ve taken a nap. What’s up?”

“Andrew, do you know what just happened?” Spitfire asked quickly with worry. Had she been speaking any faster she would have sounded like a video going at 2x speed.

“The hospital’s run out of jello?” I replied half-assed since I have no idea where this is going.

She shook her head ‘no.’ “It was something else. Andrew, what were you dreaming about a few minutes ago?”

“That I was a Jedi kicking ass and taking names, minus a sweet lightsaber of course.”

“So, you really don’t know what just happened?”

“I have no clue what you’re referring to.”

“Andrew, just before you woke up there was a tray being telekinetically controlled. You were the one doing it,” she stated while enunciating the ‘you.’

“Wait… what?!?”

Author's Note

The “carry me” line is sort of an inside joke that my girlfriend likes to throw at me every so often.
“Robots” is intentionally misspelled for comedic effect.
The voice I had in my head for the surgeon is the one that the character Carson Beckett from Stargate: Atlantis had.
Ok so you might be thinking “Phil’s gone insane! They don’t have separate games!” Says who? I am for all intents and purposes the “god” of this story so neener neener neener *blows childish raspberry*. But in all seriousness back in the 80’s and earlier both Winter and Summer Games were held in the same year, hence making the Games a much bigger deal as a whole then than they are these days. Think the same hype of the World Cup since they only came around every four years.
The original joke with Dr. Feelgood was that Andrew was going to ask him if he had a “Motley Crew” of doctors in the previous chapter, but it didn’t happen.
I have no idea why, but I automatically give doctors glasses in my head.
I sort of borrow the name for the “Laws of Equivalent Exchange” used in the series Fullmetal Alchemist; in this instance think of it as a tomato-tomahto type thing.
Now I theorized in a previous chapter that magic aura color is mainly dependent on eye color by observing several characters with magic, that being said Andrew has a common form of Heterochromia which leaves two separate eye colors in the same iris; in this case blue and green (fun fact, I have it too but with different colors). Ok so before you claim I’m pulling a Deus Ex Machina, I’m not. There will be some conditions that need to be met which will be explained in the next chapter.

This is just a formality but please watch your story/blog/watched persons feed for any blog based updates on the story (you don’t have to follow me to get updates, just favoriting the story allows you to see blog entries that are attached to the story).
Also some important changes were made to the foreword, those inclined to read that is welcome to. Some more additions are coming soon, well as soon as I can get them figured out of course.
RANDOM SIDENOTE: Yeah the Destiny beta is quite fun. ~~I have two other beta codes for Xbox One if anyone's interested, just send me a PM.~~
IMPORTANT NOTE: Ok so I've got something in the works, read this blog post for more information.

I’d like to believe I’ve caught all my faults, if I didn’t you know where to find me.

Chapter 27.5: Spitfire's Diary (Part 5)

A/N: Hey guys, I figured I've put off one of these chapters long enough, plus I KNOW you want to know what happened with Spitfire and the rest of the survivors of the base attack during the time our hero was off in a reenactment of a crime drama. I am using Earth dates even after Andrew and Spitfire go to Equestria because that is what we're comfortable with, and I haven't thought of suitable Julian-style month names that I could use as a substitute. Suggestions welcome.

Chapter 27.5: Spitfire's Diary (Part 5)

October 29, 2021

Well tomorrow's the day. Tomorrow me and Andrew (and a small support team consisting of his squad) will be coming with to see me off at the portal up in Alaska. I figure that tonight might be the last night that Andrew and I will be able to "do" anything together, especially if there is only enough power for one person to cross. So I talked to the officer in charge of the base we'll be staying at for the night ahead of time and managed to get us a private room where some of the civilian contractors stay when working on long-term projects. If everything works out perfectly Andrew will be able to come along, if not I'll pull every string I have to in order to get it opened once again so he can too. I mean "'till death to us part," am I right?

October 31, 2021 (Earth time) +5 hours after portal activation

I would have written in this yesterday, but shit really hit the fan and it's kind of hard to write in a personal journal/diary when you're being shot at. Yeah the shit really hit the fan in more ways than one. First we were shot down by an unknown entity, later to be known that it was the Russians, and were forced to crash land while Andrew was forcibly sucked out of the rear of the plane. Then we had to walk, thanks only two of us having wings, several dozen miles to the base that the portal was to be opening at. We arrived at the base only to learn that it was derelict and eerily quiet. We found every soldier, save for a few being interrogated at gunpoint, dead either in their beds or cut down by evidence of a barrage of gunfire.

Long story short Andrew used a Humvee's machine gun to hold off the advancing soldiers while those of us still remaining retreated through the opened portal. Luckily the portal was on a timer rather than based on how many people were passing through it. If it were then everyone except for me would be left behind since Andrew ordered the Strongman of the group, Sgt. Jones, to literally toss me through before anyone else. It was a little selfish, I admit, but in the end he wanted to make sure that I got through to safety. Everything past then has been a blur for me. One moment I'm being tossed through and being attended to by some of the guards of the Crystal Empire garrison, the next everyone but Andrew is running through the portal like a fruit bat out of hell.

I asked what was going on and one of the base personnel said that Andrew was going to do something inherently stupid; he was right. A moment later I saw him sprint-limping through the portal holding a remote detonator in one hand covering a gunshot in the stomach and his other holding his sidearm. He yelled at the mages to put up the strongest shield around the portal a split second before he flipped the switch setting off the high explosives on the other side. It wasn't the initial explosion he was worried about, but the secondary ones. What WAS the secondary explosion? A Mark-II fusion generator that was powering the other side of the portal.

On one side the entire base and subsequent battlefield was a several mile wide nuclear irradiated crater, and on the other side (ours) Andrew was blown away by the concussive blast that managed to rebound through the Royal Mages' barrier (supplemented by all four Princesses themselves) like a trampoline sending him hurdling into one of the supports for the castle causing innumerable injuries that the surgeons inside the ER are doing their best to fix.

Now I'm just sitting here waiting in a hospital waiting room covered with his blood all over my clothes from when I helped to try and stop the bleeding earlier. Out of everyone who crossed over the only one with life threatening injuries was Andrew. All of the Royal Mages passed out from magical exhaustion, even the Princesses looked as though they ran a marathon. One of the guards looked at the initial flash and is now blind indefinitely since my people haven't had the unfortunate "pleasure" of treating any injuries related to nuclear weapons. I pray that Equius, both allies AND enemies of Equestria never have to experience those weapons of destruction. The only other serious injuries were a few people getting shot in arms or legs, away from any major veins or arteries.

My parents are here comforting me. They were at the portal site to welcome me home along with the rest of my team. It's safe to say that they weren't expecting a firefight. They really want to meet hi-----------

October 31, 2021 (Earth time) +12 hours since portal event

I normally don't do supplements to these kinds of things, but this time it is for a good reason. Mainly I was interrupted by a nurse letting me know that they needed my permission to attempt a risky treatment before proceeding. Said treatment? A blood transfusion from a donor. Normally this would have been done without a second thought, however it was the fact of WHO it belonged to: Princess Twilight. Apparently they are a match for blood types and none of the donors in the hospital's emergency blood bank, all Crystalline by the way (excluding the mandatory supply of each of the Princesses' blood and their immediate family in the case of Twilight and Cadence), were. That worried me since Royal blood had been banned from public usage except on the Princesses themselves.

Someone theorized that since Princess Twilight had yet to reach full Royal maturity that the risks of it being deadly would be minimal. Now I'm sitting in Andrew's recovery room. He's covered in numerous bandages that have a bit of red seeping through from before the clotting set in. The soft and repetitious beeping of the heart monitor plays a sorrowful melody. Maybe if I can get my iPod charged I can put on some music for him, because wouldn't monotonous beeping drive him insane? Can you even hear anything when you're unconscious? I mean you have to hear SOMETHING, I mean you wake up whenever your alarms go off in the morning.

November 3

It's been four days since we got here and Andrew has yet to wake up. I'm worried, the doctors are worried, pretty much anyone that knows him or is caring for him is worried. The only thing that has been going on in the room is him sleeping and me punishing myself for forcing Andrew's people to build the other end of the portal. Because of my selfish want of going home soldiers and scientists who may not have died before, are now dead. That part is a fact, no matter how much I want to rationalize it.

November 4

There was a change in Andrew's condition today, or at least that's what the note delivered to my temporary office in the Crystal Empire said. So what did I do? I ran all the way to his room, hope filled, only to find that he had been intubated and had a feeding tube shoved down his throat. They told me that he started going into a seizure before dropping into a deep coma. They have no idea how long it'll last. I stayed in the room talking to an unresponsive husband before heading to my apartment and drinking myself to sleep, it wasn't one of my prouder moments.

November 12

No change today, just like the other days I've come in. Maybe he'll wake up in a few minutes. Yeah, I'll chastise him for doing something so idiotic then... wait did he just move? No? Ok maybe just a few more minutes then...

November 24

Well I've gotten a two week ban from the hospital. How? Well the head of security, and local law enforcement, don't like it when you punch a doctor for doing their job even though you don't think they're not doing it fast enough. Well I can still sneak in the room's window.

November 30

One week down, one to go. I've been sneaking in once a day to see Andrew, usually towards the end of the night for a half hour or so, that way I wouldn't get banned or worse held in the "drunk tank" and get an even worse rap around here. Yeah I may or may not have punched some creep in the jewels for coming on to me even though I had my ring on. That felt great, though I was sited with a misdemeanor; Cadence waived it though because she understood the circumstances while the guards in charge of the case didn't. Great, now I owe her one.

To blow off some steam I went to the Empire's shooting range. They looked at me a little cross when I wanted one of the M249's that came with us. Yeah the Imperial and Equestrian R&D departments are still looking on reverse engineering some of the firearms and tech brought over. So far they've only been able to make one of each firearm by non-magical means. That's probably why the range master was a little wary of letting me use it. An hour and a good thousand rounds later I was feeling better; however I did manage to unnerve many of the male (and some female) people on the range that day. Probably because all of my targets were male silhouettes, and they were all shredded in the place their family jewels would have been. I heard that my team, still currently under Soarin', are supposed to be stopping by to try and cheer me up. I swear if he tries anything may God, or any other deity, have mercy on his soul.

Narrator: "Meanwhile in Canterlot, a certain blue haired Angel captain suddenly grabbed his balls with a shiver going down his spine…"

"Pinkie, what are you doing?," a certain purple unicorn asked her friend who was wearing a set of studio headphones with a microphone sitting on a desk she was sitting at.

"Narrating what happened on the other side of the country in another dimension at the time a diary entry was being written whilist doing my imitation of Morgan Freestallion," she replied cheerfully.

"Ok then?" the unicorn replied while going back to her task of reorganizing the library, again.

December 12

Play the file

//play "Dec12-2021.mp3"

"God, are you up there? It's Spitfire. Yeah I know that we don't talk all that often, or at all; but I figured that it was better late than never to say speak to you. Though you were pretty much last on the list," she muttered. "I just wanted to say 'hi' and maybe ask for a teensy, weensy little favor. Nothing really THAT big. Maybe other than, just maybe, letting Andrew wake up. To make it even I'll climb up those stairs of that once church in Mexicolt, you know the one with the rough-cut granite stairs? Please?"

December 24

Life sucks. This time of year especially. For me last year it was the happiest season that I ever celebrated, that and it was the first time that Andrew and I truly became a married couple. Now all that's left for me is sadness and depression after the fact. I miss him. I miss him rubbing that one spot on my back that lets me know that he's there for me. It's hard to explain or put into words really.

Tonight at my apartment my parents are supposed to by stopping by for Hearth's Warming dinner. Part of me doesn't want to participate in it while Andrew is still in a coma, but the other part of me doesn't want to brush off my family. I'll put on my best "happy face" and just grin and bear it.

December 31

People have been calling me all day. I've ignored them and let them go to my answering machine. I've just been lying here in my bed. Alone. Under a thick blanket. Staring at the blank wall of this apartment. There is no happiness. No hope. I don't feel like getting up. I haven't touched his computer or phone as they remind me too much of him. I can't even bear to say his name let alone write it right now. My father tried to cheer me up the other day. And by "cheer up" I mean yelling at me saying that I am a soldier's daughter (and also a soldier) and soldiers of the Warhawk clan don't cry and mope around when times get tough. He doesn't understand, he really doesn't.

January 10, 2022

Well I'm feeling better today. I don't know if it's the uppers that I know someone's been slipping me over the last two weeks. I'm well and over the fact that Andrew might or might not come back. If he does, fantastic. If he doesn't… well I haven't gotten that far yet. In fact I am planning on heading out to the hospital for the first time since before Hearth's Warming/Christmas to go and visit him.

January 10 - Supplement

My moment of peace was so rudely interrupted. I don't even know if that's even right, but that's all I can really come up with right now. The reason? The doctor came into the room with bad news. The innate magic imbued in the blood transfusion he received is slowly killing him. In layman's terms the magic based radiation is slowly slicing up the cells in Andrew's kidneys, killing them. I obviously asked what could be done, the answer: a transplant from a high level Mage, or from Royalty themselves. Who is high level enough these days? Sombra? Not likely since his essence was blasted to oblivion (which for some reason Pinkie says tastes just like Red Bull, which in my opinion is disgusting) by the Crystal Heart. Meaning only Royalty is left. And to perfect the trifecta of fuckery: it has to be a blood type match, or familial match. Yeah, what are the chances of Andrew having a BLOOD RELATIVE here on Equius?

January 11

Me and my big mouth. And apparently Andrew's subconscious luck. A MATCH WAS FOUND! And cue the angelic choir singing the Hallelujah Chorus by Handel. Here's the kicker and you'll never guess who it was matched to. The one. The only. Princess Cadence herself. I don't know how, but they're blood relatives. Right now I'm not going to ask questions because who am I to kick a gift horse in the mouth? In retrospect considering that there's an alternate universe out there that contains colorful ponified versions of us, that saying is almost a pun. Well now that we've found a match I just need to convince a certain beautiful Princess to give up an internal organ. To be honest though it's not her I'm worried about, it's her husband, the Crown Prince. I remember when I served under him the year prior to being accepted into the Wonderbolts. He was a hard-ass and stickler for rules and regs back then, gods know what he's like concerning his wife.

January 12

I was right, he's still a stickler. And I was right, he didn't want his wife to sacrifice part of herself for someone she doesn't even know. Well being the Princess of Love gives her a certain insight, like seeing how much I love Andrew. She still make me work for it though, ie: begging her to do it. She is such a troll. I wonder where she gets it from?

Meanwhile ~~at the Legion of Doom~~ in Canterlot:

"*Achoo!*"

"Bless you, your highness," a guard said.

"Thank you," the Princess of the Sun replied. 'Hmm… it's not allergy season, which is something that has not plagued me in centuries. It's not the feather flu season. Ah! Someone must be talking about me,' she thought to herself.

Anyway she agreed to helping me because "family, no matter how distant, is still family." The Crown Prince wasn't too pleased, but then again who would be comfortable with their significant other giving away an internal organ. He swore that he'd be doing an extensive investigation on whether Andrew and the Princess were truly related or not. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be calling him "Unsure Fry" behind his back.

January 14

Well the surgery was yesterday, and the doctor was pleased to say that it was a total success. The Princess is off in her private chambers back at the palace under heavy guard (no thanks to Shining's paranoia) recovering. Everything's sealed up tight so I guess she's just sleeping off the pain meds that are most likely in her system. It's unknown why but as long as anyone can remember those with Royal blood tend to heal faster, having a skilled doctor well versed in healing magic also helps too.

According to Andrew's assigned doctor the toxic levels of magic have been steadily decreasing over the last twelve hours and as of sometime today he is expected to pass from the "high" level of magic poisoning to "moderate." They said that if everything goes according to how it's been decreasing it'll decay into non-existence by tomorrow sometime, which would be around the time he'd wake up, gods willing. I can't wait to talk to him again, not a comatose vegetable. That wasn't very nice of me, was it?

January 15

I don't believe it. No. I CAN'T believe it. I refuse to believe that Andrew doesn't remember any of the time we spent together. Hell, he doesn't even remember the first time we met. I mean it's sort of hard to forget meeting someone who you caught coming out of your bathroom stark naked, with a gun pointed at their head no less. The doctor says that it's his brain trying to cope with the traumatic experiences he suffered just before going into the coma. He said he'd consult with a neurologist or a psychologist or something for a second opinion.

January 20

It's been hard for me to come to the hospital every day. Not because of work or prior obligations, but because of every time that Andrew looks at me he doesn't recognize me at all. It's been close to a week and yet he still doesn't know who I am other than by name. Ok, he knows WHO I am, but not what we mean to each other. To me that's pretty depressing. Whenever we talk I tell him about what we did together, the fun stuff primarily. I figure easing him into what our relationship was like will help pave the way for the not so "fun" things we had to go through.

In other news I got a reassignment from the higher-ups, I am to report to Canterlot in two weeks' time to start the training regimen for the Winter Games opening ceremony. Apparently we're supposed to do a mini airshow towards the beginning of the ceremony. Also we're supposed to have a liason from the Crystal Empire joining us in a show of cooperation between Equestria's forces and the Empire's. Sometime during the festivities we're supposed to be having a mock dogfight with their Air Force. That should be interesting. Apparently the lads and gents in R&D have been making some prototype aircraft from the scientists that we brought with us designed in tandem with the Equestrian and Imperial scientists. If what scuttlebutt I've been hearing is true it'll be able to break the sound barrier. That would be awesome to fly. I wonder who they'll choose as the test pilot?

January 30

Well it's been about three weeks since Andrew woke up. The doctors said that I could take him home today, only to bring him back for appointments and such. Obviously. I was talking to one doctor for a second opinion on the whole feeling but can't move the legs thing, and obviously more testing is going to be needed on that, much to Andrew's dismay. I can already tell he hates the hospital more than anything. I'm writing this during the surgery that he's in. Hopefully they'll be able to figure out what's going on.

January 30 (continued)

Well the surgery is done. Considering that it was an exploratory surgery to look for stuff, it was a success. It's weird. The electrons are flowing from his brain to the bridged section of spine, but not continuing to his legs. It looks like some of the nanites are connected to the nerves but not the muscles that control motor functions. It's weird, I thought that it was either all or nothing with the nervous system. How do these artificial intelligence guided constructs choose to connect and which not to?

February 1

I talked to one of the scientists that we brought with us as well as Princess Twilight (who knew that she could be a code junkie with only a brief introduction on programming languages?) and they said that they could take a crack at the code and see if they could restart the replication process so the nanites could finish the job. Considering that it is quite the complex code it could take some time before any progress is made on that front. In the meantime they're going to let me take Andrew home to the apartment I have in town. I hope he likes what I did with the place as I've tried to make it as close to our home was back on Earth in terms of design and furniture layout.

February 15

Well after half a month both Princess Twilight and the scientists were able to crack the encryption on the nanobots and have started reprogramming them. Luckily the "swarm" runs on a partial hive mind so updating one of the suckers updates them all. So that's one issue taken care of. During the last few weeks I've been showing Andrew around the city. It's been pretty enjoyable. I still remember the stoic look on his face when the train showed the mountainside of Canterlot. When asked why his expression was the way it was he replied, "This is a piece of engineering that should be impossible by all accounts. It shouldn't be gawked at like some sort of oddity, but admired because someone had the vision (and balls) to make it happen." I personally think that he didn't want to look like one of the stereotypical characters that get thrown into these types of situations in fan fiction all the time. To an extent I agree, what person acts like that?

I can tell that Andrew is bored out of his mind while I'm out at the base working on maneuvers or paperwork (much to my displeasure. One reason that I wish the Shadow Clone jutsu from Naruto existed). He found my old guitar from when I used to have the time to play, and has been practicing on it while I've been away. I listened in once when I came home for lunch during one shift and it wasn't half bad. I guess you can get bored of playing games on the computer, even beloved games on emulators.

February 16

So today's the day. The day that hopefully the reprogramming gets uploaded to the nanobots. We're at the hospital again, mainly for "just in case" reasons. I mean it makes sense, we don't want him going into a seizure or anything at home where we'd have a good fifteen to twenty minute flight to the nearest hospital. Yeah we could teleport, but would the condition be stable enough to do that without endangering Andrew's life further? Frankly no one wants to try that one out any time soon. What I mean by that is no one wants the blood of an innocent on their hands.

They have me outside right now, again just in case they need to get nurses inside or whatever in the case shit hits the fan. According to some of the simulations that they ran, the upload will take a few minutes and the distribution of the changes to the code in a hour. After that we just have to wait and see happens.

February 16 (supplement)

Everything worked as planned, and Andrew (and sub-sequentially me) are pleased that he can now control some minor muscle movements, and by that I mean he can wiggle his toes (almost gleefully I might add). The doctor has already started planning a physical training regimen for him to follow and I can tell just by looking at it that it's going to suck.

April 13

It's been almost two months and Andrew's made a lot of progress, well while he continues to curse the physical trainer's training. He can walk around with a cane as support now, but the doctor expects that in the next few weeks he'll be able to walk fine without it. Which was music to his ears. We both have been mulling it over on how Andrew and Princess Cadence are related. I heard a while back that Princess Twilight and her assistant were doing some research on genetics and how some people were related to each other, I mean I didn't even know that Pinkie and Applejack were related by some family member generations ago. Both Andrew and Cadence submitted their family lines (primarily father's and mother's last names) to be researched. This was a few months ago, and finally Twilight has gotten back to us. Hopefully we can get some answers on that.

Author's Note

Alright I figured a laugh was in order showing that Pinkie can certainly see into my 'verse and do a little narration in the soothing voice of Morgan Freeman. Admit it, you would probably enjoy having your life narrated by him ala-March of the Penguins style. Or at least for a while. The idea came from a comment thread another reader and I were doing for a bit.
And insert George Lopez reference from the episode where he bargains with God for his son's dog to live and he would do something similar to what I wrote. It was a funny episode.
As you may have noticed throughout the chapter I was running our poor heroine through the stages of grief. Why? Again because I am the god of this story… wait a second I've already done this bit. Bah, you get the idea. Anyway anyone who has had a family member or significant other in the hospital long-term for something that they might not bounce back from goes through this. Sometimes it's shorter in some stages while lingering in some others like anger and depression, and so on and so forth amongst the many numerous combinations. So going off of that I pose a question for my readers from the States: how many of you noticed that in 2001 after September 11th that the number of people going to churches increased? In times of crisis or trouble people head towards religion for answers that they seek. That Dec. 31st entry, geez that one was depressing to write.
Ok so I describe what the magic was like in destroying Andrew's kidneys. I got the idea from the series Naruto. Particularly the main character's technique called Rasenshurikin which when detonated exposes the poor bastard to millions of microscopic wind chakra based knives that pretty much dissect them to death. Honestly, not a way I would want to go.
And cue reference to a line that O'Malley said in a RvB episode. Yes, Pinkie broke the fourth wall by reference.
Yes I just made a jab at people that always have the transferred character gawk at the beauty of the city and other places. What's wrong with silent contemplation with a simple, "It's beautiful." instead of their jaw dropping to the ground or them exclaiming it to the heavens like Naruto screaming "Believe it!" I mean if you did that next to me you'd get a nice slap to the back of the head to shut up, followed by me saying "shut up."

Sorry this took a little longer than needed to get out, especially since I had this pretty much planned out from the get-go. I ran into some personal issues that have caused me to panic, however it has all been resolved. I also blame fanfiction.net for taking up all of my free time with such good stories.
On to less depressing things. College courses are starting back up for me so there might be a longer lull between chapters, as you have already seen. I apologize ahead of time but unfortunately for you guys schoolwork (which I'm paying for out of pocket) and the information I'm going to need for a permanent job comes first. Sorry.
In other gaming related news: Destiny purple engrams are my bane of existence. Enough said. Also I'm playing Pokemon Y so if anyone out there has X, PM me so we can do some game-exclusive trades (IE exchanging friend codes, God I hate those. Nintendo really dropped the bomb on that in my opinion).

I'd like to think that I've caught all my mistakes and errors. If I missed something, you know where to find me. Well at least not physically, if you did that'd be kinda creepy.

Chapter 28: And Yet More Questions Spawn

April 14, 2022

“So why are we doing this again?” I ask looking at my wife, sounding annoyed.

“Don’t you want to know how you and Cadence are related?” Spitfire replies just as annoyed for me asking.

“Well, yeah. But do we really have to take a five hour train ride there?” I shoot back, gesturing to the passing landscape. “I mean she could have just ‘dragon-fired’ us the results. I mean, that’s what she did with the letter last night.”

“Yeah, she could have. But she didn’t,” she said crossing her arms. “Apparently it’s important enough to also have Princesses Celestia and Luna attend as well as Cadence.”

“And they’re not here because…?” I trail.

“Because they can teleport,” she replies flatly.

“Ah yes, the ever elusive ability to rip holes in time and space. What I wouldn’t give for that,” I say with a sigh.

“And psychokinesis isn’t enough?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Well who wants to have to sit in traffic, foot or otherwise? Like this train for example.”

“You know the sheer amount of magic required to pull it off. Remember what your tutor, whom just so happens to be Princess Luna said. In order to pull off a flawless teleportation you not only need to shield yourself (and any occupants with you), open a rift in time and space, and protect yourself from spacial relativity since you’re traveling at the speed of light in another dimension until you reach the other end. You’re casting three spells simultaneously, all of which are high level spells in and of themselves.”

“And only six known people can pull it off in this century: three of which are Royals, a Mage turned Royal, the brother of Princess Twilight: Shining Armor, and Princess Celestia’s former apprentice Sunset Shimmer. I know,” I finish. “Cadence barely does it unless she needs to since she’s the Princess of Love.”

“Regardless to that last fact it’s clear that right now you’re only able to pull off simple telekinetic and pyrokinetic spells. The fact that you can do that AND fly should be enough for you,” she added. “It’s not like I get any of that cool stuff,” she said quietly with a pout.

“Oh? Like what?” I ask with a mischievous grin. “This?” I ask as I telekinetically pinch her butt, making her let out a yelp of pain mixed with pleasure. “Or this?” I ask as I press lightly on a very specific spot on her back that makes her blush lightly. A few seconds later it deepened to a blistering red right as her wings sprung out into what has called the misnomer of ‘wing boner.’

“Andrew…” she said while being very flustered. “Knock it off.”

“Or what?” I counter with a fox like grin.

“You’ll sleep on the floor tonight and have no sex for a month,” she quickly blurted out, her face still a deep shade of red.

“Stopping now,” I said quickly before stopping the flow of magic to my fingers. “Please don’t take away the closest thing to heaven that we lowly humans can come close to reaching,” I pleaded. I heard someone making a cracking whip sound from a few rows behind. I in return just flipped him off. I still don’t know if that’s considered bad here or not since no one’s even bothered to tell me.

Spitfire hummed for a second, putting a finger on her lips as though she was deep in thought. “Maybe if you’re good we can do something tonight.”

“What am I, a little kid?” I joked.

“No, but sometimes you sure do act like one.”

“Oh I most certainly do not.”

“Do too. I mean the way that you mess with me all the time, not to mention that the neighbor kids love you.”

“What’s wrong about being loved by children?”

“Well by some it can be seen as ‘creepy’.”

“What? If we have kids I’d have to be loveable. Admit it, I’d be the fun parent and you’d be the slightly more restrictive one.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m not fun?” she asked using the infamous female warning tone.

“Uhh… no? Love you?” I said with an innocent look.

“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought. Well you’re lucky I love you,” Spitfire replied as she ran her hand along my arm gently.

“Well that’s not the only thing you love about me,” I say with a foxy grin.

“The nerve of some people!” I heard some prissy woman say next to us.

“Up yours,” I calmly replied, with a middle finger extended.

“Hmph, some commoners really are uncouth,” she stated before sticking her nose in the air.

“You see this face?” I ask pointing to my face with a neutral expression on it. “This is my not giving a fuck face.” The woman looked disgusted, but turned away with only a ‘commoners’ under her breath. “And now you can see why I hate the elitists,” I muttered to Spitfire, to which she nodded in agreement. The rest of the trip was completed in silence, mostly because I slept during the trip shortly after that. It was a nice dream; I can’t remember all that happened but there was a beach, and Spitfire and I were there.

It was interrupted by the conductor calling out the next stop, which just so happened to be ours. We grabbed our overnight bags, it’s not like we want to do ten hours of traveling in one day, and left the train car. It was a nice one, you know since there were some luxury items in it. Part of me thinks that a certain bookish Princess pulled some strings to get us those seats. Hey, a free trip is a free trip and I’m not about to turn down free. Yes I’m a cheapskate.

Upon our embarkation from the train car, there was a two guard entourage waiting for us. It’s not like I don’t appreciate it, but would it kill them to, oh I don’t know, have undercover guards who totally don’t look like guards who totally paint the ‘VIP’ target on us? I mean I read up on Ponyville and there are some really nice people living here, but you never know what fanboy/fangirl of Spitfire might get ideas; but in hindsight that may have been what Princess Twilight was thinking about when assigning us a guard entourage. I know that a certain rainbow haired Angel may have the hots for Spits, but then again I’ve never met her and don’t know her sexual preferences.

Looking around I saw that there was absolutely no one on the streets except for a few people. I read a census report and said that there were a few hundred people living here (children included). So where was everyone? My paranoia started to kick into overdrive, my eyes darting from street to street, looking for something wrong; that is until Spitfire grabbed my arm in an attempt to comfort me.

“Honey, is something wrong?” she asked.

“Maybe. You see how empty the streets are?” I replied.

She looked and saw the borderline empty streets too. “The streets look almost deserted. There are people that work in town so that isn’t all that surprising,” she replied trying to shrug it off.

“Yeah, but doesn’t something seem off?” My eyes briefly take a peek at the guards who look away immediately, like they know something. “There’s no children in the streets, but from what information I was able to read during my hospitalizations there should be kids all over the place since it’s a weekend and therefore no school today. It seems as though that the people on the street are here to give the air of normalcy.” I saw the guards starting to sweat. “So that begs the question, what do you two know?” I ask staring accusingly at the guards while pointing my finger at one’s chest as we stop at the recently constructed castle for Princess Twilight.

“Um, uh,” one started to say.

“Well, you see…” the other added.

“Yes?” I ask like a father waiting for an explanation. Damn I got some good tactics from my dad.

“Pinkieorganizedapartyforyourdiscovery,” one blurted out.

“Please tell me it wasn’t going to be a surprise party.”

“Maybe?” the other guard answered sheepishly.

“I thought I told her back in the Crystal Empire the worst thing to do was a surprise party for a soldier. I mean some get really jumpy, mainly with a gun,” Spitfire commented.

“Normal parties I can handle, but surprise parties are almost asking for an OK Corral type situation,” I added.

“OK Corral, sir?” one asked.

“A location in which an infamous firefight happened in a town similar to Appleloosa. It left three confirmed deaths and tons of speculation even over a hundred years later.”

“Why would that type of situation happen here? I’m sure the townsfolk have the best intentions,” the other asked.

“Have you even been to war?” Both shook their heads ‘no.’ “I’ve been in situations that require quick thinking and high stress. There’s nothing more stressful in an urban situation than walking into an unknown environment, not knowing what’s on the other side of that door. Having someone jumping out at you, especially when you’re armed-,” I said while lifting up my shirt, showing my MP-412. “-is a bad idea for anyone, even when they’re friendly. That’s why I’m thinking why Spitfire mentioned this to Ms. Pie a while ago, to avoid a situation like this.” I let out a sigh, allowing my shirt to fall comfortably into place. “Now that I do know what’s on the other side, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’ll speak to her later about this,” Spits said just loud enough for me to hear before giving me a peck on the cheek.

“I haven’t met her personally, but from I remember from ‘THAT’ is that she’s hyperactive and could have just forgotten while planning this event. Try not to be too harsh, I don’t want you to be known as ‘Andrew’s shrewd wife’,” I joked.

“When have I ever been ‘shrewd’?”

Both guards tensed in anticipation, “Never, you’ve never been shrewd as far as I can remember. But I don’t want you getting that kind of rep here.”

“While I am flattered by your concern, I think I can take care of my own reputation,” she said before kissing me again. This time a longer, more romantic one.

“Which last time I checked it was ‘kickass, sexy, stunt flyer’.”

“Mmm, I so can’t wait to get to the hotel tonight,” she purred with a wanting look.

One of the guards cleared their throats to get our attention. “I think we’ve put this off long enough. Let’s go in and see what they’ve got. Hopefully pie.”

“What is it with you and pie?”

“Because pie is the king of all deserts,” I declare with pride as I open the door.

“SURPRISE!” everyone inside yelled as they jumped out, and I instinctively reached for my revolver, but I didn’t grab it thanks to the forewarning/coaxing of our escort. Letting a breath out I raised my arms like a criminal getting caught.

“You got us,” I said with a false grin. Mainly because I was hoping that this was going to be kept private.

“Doyoulikeyourparty? Welldoyadoya?” a pink haired blob asked as she appeared in front of my face with inches only to separate us.

“First of all, personal space,” I replied as she took two steps back. “And second, what is the party for anyway?”

“Well it’s your welcome to Ponyville slash family history results party!” she exclaimed giddily.

“Ok then. First one, understandable since I’ve never been here; second though is a bit creepy, how did you even know about that?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The writer left his word processor open and I took a looksee at the chapter,” she replied as if it were as obvious as a bear taking a shit in the woods.

“Uh… quick question, have you had anything today that’s small and round that may have had a stamp on it of some kind?” I asked, hinting towards illegal drugs.

“Nope, why do you ask?”

“No reason.”

“Then let’s get this party started!” she yelled as a DJ let the needle fall onto a record and blasting dubstep-like music came from the speakers.

The pink haired woman disappeared in a smoky afterimage. In its place when it faded was a coughing Princess Twilight. “I’m sorry about her. Sometimes she can get a little... eccentric about parties,” she said with a sheepish smile.

“I think ‘eccentric’ may be a little lacking in my opinion. You’re certain that she’s not skipping her meds at all, or on anything? No offense.”

The Princess of Magic chuckled, “None taken. She’s always been like that since I’ve known her. I remember when she told us that before she found her calling in life she was depressive. I guess she’s just making up for lost time.”

Spitfire rubbed her chin in thought, “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. You do remember me telling Pinkie that surprise parties wouldn't be a good idea around Andrew, right?”

“I tried to tell her when she was planning this, but she wouldn’t have it. I apologize if you were put on edge because of her,” she said bowing her head slightly.

“Not to sound blunt, but we’re all lucky that I was able to coax our escorts to let us in the loop,” I said while raising my shirt up just enough for Twilight to catch the glint of metal coming from my waistband.

“I see. It is fortunate that it didn’t come to that,” she replied in a more serious tone. “I’ll be sure to speak to her about this afterwards.”

I started waving my hands in defense, “It’s not like I don’t like parties, just not surprise parties.”

“Well that’s relieving to hear. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you the results of my testing. Unless you’d rather party a little first.”

“Maybe later. What’s this about finding out how Cadence and I are related?” I ask as we walk upstairs and away from the party.

She opens a door with her magic to reveal a room filled with books, old ones if I had to take a guess. “We should wait until the others arrive. Until then I’ll have Spike bring in some refreshments,” she said before heading towards the door. “Feel free to read any of the books while you wait,” she said as the door closed behind her, the knob glowing in the magenta glow of her magic aura.

Looking around the room I start to browse the books in what looks to be a private library. “Anything interesting?” Spits asked as she sat down in a recliner, probably used by Twilight when she read something.

“Not really. It’s all magic theory and other stuff that’s just way beyond me,” I replied as I looked at the spine of another really thick book. “Makes me wonder where the good fiction is though.”

“Those would be downstairs,” the voice of a boy said walking through the door. I turned around to see a boy no older than ten walking into the room carrying a serving tray carrying with a pitcher of water, a few glasses, and a plate piled high with what looks like chocolate chip cookies. He set down the tray before turning towards Spits and I with a smile. “The name’s Spike, I’m Twilight’s number one assistant.”

“Andrew,” I replied before shaking his outstretched hand. “Former Army reservist, former bodyguard inside of Air Force, willful guinea pig for a procedure that gave me wings apparently, oh and local amnesiac.”

“So you don’t remember anything?”

“Well between the times that I first met Spitfire until I arrived here a few months ago, no.”

“Well that sucks.”

“You’re telling me. So when you say ‘assistant’ what do you do exactly?”

“Well I help organize Twilight’s books whenever she needs to, I usually cook her breakfast, and generally help her around the palace.”

This slightly concerned me because of his age, “How do I put this delicately?” I muttered. “You’re not, well, in her debt or anything, are you?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, sounding very confused.

“Your parents don’t have any… gambling debts or anything, do they?”

“I don’t have any parents,” he said sadly. Oops. “Twilight took me in after she hatched me. Well more like Princess Celestia took me in and left me in Twilight’s care after she was old enough to care for me.”

“I’m sorry, hatched?” I asked.

“Have you never met a dragonborn before?” I shook my head in response. “From what Celestia told me, around one hundred years ago she was given a dragon egg to keep in her possession. She used it as a baseline test for who could have the potential for being Royalty as you can only hatch a dragon egg only if you have immense magic reserves. Twilight’s predecessor Sunset Shimmer came close, well before she ran off and disappeared for the longest time, well that is until recently when we met her again in a world of anthropomorphic cats.”

“Sounds like a bad acid trip.”

“I’ve heard reports of people who got high off of the fermented run off from the Rainbow Factory.” I raised my eyebrow on that one. “Anyway we ran into her after she stole Twilight’s crown,” and he continued on telling the story of the events that were loosely based on the Equestria Girls movie. According to what Spike told us, it was like a weird reverse world. Instead of schools here where most kids go out on apprenticeships into a trade that they’re wanting to pursue as a career after primary schooling (though occasionally some will go to a secondary school and then a college if applicable as some towns are smaller than others), in this other dimension it was pretty much as the original FiM series was. Weird.

“So on a scale of one to ten, one being all animal and ten being all human, where would you place the inhabitants of the other dimension?” I asked.

He sat there for a second, tapping his chin in thought. “I would say between five and six.” The thought of pretty much all of the characters from Star Fox comes to mind. I shook my head to clear that out of my mind. “But back to the subject at hand the only other person that came close was Ms. Shimmer, and when she ran away Princess Celestia went on another ‘quest’ to find another protégé.”

“Which lead us to around ten years ago, yes?”

“Yep. So Twilight mentioned that you dimension has some sort of television show based on us?”

“Well not quite. Have you heard of the multiverse theory?”

“Sort of. Isn’t it that all possible solutions exist based on the decisions of those at the time?”

“An oversimplified version, but yes. My thought is that in my home dimension this place existed as a thought in someone’s mind and somewhere else, this place, someone made it a reality. In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s another dimension out there that is exists verbatim as it does in the television show. I also wouldn’t be surprised if there’s another me here, female even.” For some reason the image of an ideal female ‘me’ popped into my head, I’d look hot. However it was the three ‘pops’ that brought me back to my senses.

Standing in front of me were the three most powerful people in the known world, two of which had ethereal-like hair while the other just had colorful ‘dye job’ style hair. I would be lying if I didn’t say that they weren’t attractive, though I won’t say it out loud for fear of the dreaded couch banishment. All women that are married or in a relationship know that sex sells and sex can be used as a weapon for control. My God I’m whipped.

“‘Sup?” I asked giving a casual two fingered salute.

“Andrew! These are the Princesses! Show some respect,” Spitfire scolded while hitting me in the back of my head just hard enough to get my attention.

“Of course I respect them. However we’re in a casual setting and I’m currently under an indefinite green card right now, so officially until my papers are pushed through they’re not my leaders until so. And if we were in a throne room or something of course I’d be more formal.” I shifted my attention back to the three attractive females in the room. “So how are things?”

“I am doing fine. The damage from your little misadventure a few months ago has been completely cleaned up and it is now like it never happened,” Cadence replied. I nodded in agreement. From what I remembered from the damage report I read in a newspaper it wasn’t too bad, but it ruined one of the castle’s public gardens.

“Rumors have been floating around the castle and Canterlot about this mysterious stranger that married the captain of the Wonderbolts who keeps his head covered, making it impossible to tell who he is,” Celestia said cryptically.

“What can I say? I like my privacy,” I replied. “Trust me, paparazzi and me don’t mix. I’d be partial to punch one if they invaded my personal space, just saying. How Spits puts up with it is a mystery.”

“You learn to ignore it,” Spitfire replied nonchalantly.

“So you keep telling me.”

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” Twilight said coming into the room. “My discussion with Pinkie ran longer than expected.” She then saw her other three Princess colleagues. “Princesses, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,” she said while bowing.

“Twilight, how many times do I have to tell you? You don’t have bow down to us anymore,” Celestia said with a smile.

“Sorry,” Twilight replied with a sheepish smile and a slight blush of embarrassment. “Force of habit I suppose. Anyway for the reason you’re all gathered here,” she said with a smile while clapping her hands together in excitement. “As you all know several months ago Spitfire returned with several new friends, as well as her husband.”

“And all I got was this lousy scar,” I quipped, which earned me a playful smack to the back of the head. “What?” I asked which got a slight smirk from Luna as well as a gentle smile from Celestia and Cadence.

“I’m sorry for his actions,” Spitfire said. “He’s still a little miffed by this one noble who was insulting him on the train.”

“Rightfully ‘miffed’ might I add.”

“Anyway,” Twilight said, returning our attention to her. “A question has been running through the minds of several of us, mainly being how Cadence and Andrew are a familial match though Andrew has no family here that we know of.”

“Which for all intents and purposes should be impossible,” I added, getting a nod of agreement from Twilight.

“Well we no long have to wonder anymore, for I have-,” she paused for dramatic tension before pulling out a manila folder, “the answer!” She placed the folder on the table and opened it. Inside was a bunch of old looking and new files. “As you all know, or well most know, we have made strides in decoding the DNA genome in recent years; even more so in the last few months with the scientists from the other world that tagged along. Thanks to their help we were able to finish our first DNA sequencer, which allows us to compare two DNA samples and find out if two people are related, or in other areas solve crimes once implemented.

“As you know Andrew was given a large amount of my blood from the Crystal Empire’s blood bank, primarily because his is such a rare type and mine was a match. I am sorry about that by the way,” Twilight said with some remorse.

“If we want to blame anyone on that, blame biology, and it’s all water under the bridge now,” I replied.

“Anyway the reason we were able to find a match so quickly was because of a spell known to all medics, doctors, and nurses that reveals the castee’s blood type. Fortunately there aren’t many blood types so therefore it is a simple spell with little margin for error. DNA on the other hand was one of the things we weren’t able to really explore until now because of its complexity. So before now we had to rely on family histories that sometimes went unmanaged due to laziness or for other reasons for decades if not longer; this was one of my personal projects this last year trying to find out who is related to whom in Ponyville which revealed that by a many greats grandparent Pinkie and Applejack were related.

“Using a combination of the two has revealed two very interesting things. One being that Cadence is Andrew’s great-great-great-great grandniece, and the alleles confirm that using the sequencer.”

“Ok, and the other thing?” Cadence asked.

“The other is that before three hundred years ago, your great-great-great-great grandmother’s history doesn’t go back any farther, her spouse on the other hand is a different story but it is as though your so many greats grandmother just appeared out of nowhere and just started a life under the radar for whatever reason.”

An uncomfortable silence settled into the room. “But how is that possible, people don’t just appear out of nowhere?” Luna asked.

“I do not know, sister. Even three hundred years ago we still had birth, death, and immigration records primarily for tax purposes. If it were up to me there would be no taxes, but then again you have to pay civil servants somehow,” Celestia chimed in.

“But how is that possible? If this in fact a parallel universe, as I was discussing with Spike earlier, how is it possible?” I asked no one in general.

“Many people don’t know this except for a select few, but when I was imprisoned on the moon the Nightmare left me and seeped into the moon, creating the visage that many saw for generations as the ‘Maiden in the Moon.’ One thing that only Celestia knows is that during this period I was also completely aware of the state of the stars, moon, and space around the planet. Believe me when I say it was very boring, even with the others that were imprisoned on the rock with me. Anyway a few centuries ago I felt a disturbance in the atmosphere of the planet as it appeared in orbit first before descending. To this day I know not what it is,” Luna said completing her tale.

“Aliens? It couldn’t be. Could it?” I wondered out loud.

“That would explain the strange fireball in the sky that was seen by some farmers around that time. They just poured into the day and night courts for days asking for an explanation about it. I sent out sentries and other hired help, but none were able to find anything,” Celestia said.

“Where was my five-greats grandmother living at the time of her appearance?” Cadence asked finally speaking up.

“According to the records she applied for a business license in a small town north of current Manehatten called Timberland, before that there is no record of where she appeared,” Twilight replied.

“Wait a second,” Spitfire said catching all of our attention. “From what I remember from my high school geography, isn’t Timberland a few dozen miles away from the Empire’s border? Is it possible that she wandered down from there?”

“Now that you think about it that does seem logically sound. The cities of the Empire, primarily the capital, were locked inside of a pocket dimension where time passed inside one second to a hundred years on the outside,” Cadence said.

“Which makes sense why the inhabitants where downright terrified of their ex-oppressor when we asked about the Crystal Heart our first time in the kingdom,” Twilight added. “If it was one thousand years the fear would have diminished since he could not touch them from his icy prison outside of the pocket dimension. But that makes sense.”

“Do you think that whomever the pilot was knew this, that there would be no one in that region that would see them touch down there?” I asked. “Princess, were there any reports of a fireball leaving as well?”

“No, there wasn’t,” Celestia replied. Then it dawned on everyone, but Celestia was the first to say it. “It never left.”

“But the only thing we found in the north was… that complex,” Twilight said slowly. “The one that had your video inside of it,” Twilight said pointing to me.

Author's Note

Dun dun dunnnnn!!!! Cliff-hanger.
Fermented rainbows? Got that idea from what I remember from the story Starlight over Detrot: A Noire Tale, so a nod there to that fantastic story. Go check it out.
You can fine more on the multiverse theory from Game Theory’s episodes on the Legend of Zelda timeline and on how Rosalina is Peach’s daughter. Interesting stuff and he explains it quite well including time dilation.
Maiden instead of mare? Well she ain’t no horse, so that wouldn’t fly. No pun intended.
Timberland is a made up town as far as I am aware.

This is just a heads up but don’t expect a new chapter or update for a while until I finish up with my classes for the semester as I am in the last third of classes. I’ll try to get something up during the months of December and January as I have nothing going on other than working part time until the next semester starts. But if I get something out earlier then yay for you guys.
Also a note on formatting since the site's changes, I won't be doing what I did in the past announcing the chapter's title as the new formatting does that already. If I get time I'll go back and fix previous chapters of that, but if not I hope you understand.
Also a section has been added for dragons in the first chapter, check it out for more info, though Spike does give some good info here.

I would like to believe I caught all my errors, but if I didn't you know where to find me.

Foreword (For new readers)

Author's Note

Please note that this foreword's contents may change after a release of a new chapter or a new episode of FiM.

Foreword (For new readers)

Thank you for checking out my story. I hope you find your time here well spent and the story entertaining to you. Now that I'm done with that little introduction it's time to get to the nitty-gritty.

Disclaimers:

This story is not for profit. I realize that I am not perfect so there may be times in which some information may be incorrect. I do my best to enough research about something before I write about it and have some part of it rooted it realism. All characters in this story (referring to OC's) belong to me unless I put the character of another user's in, in that case credit shall belong to them and will be stated in the affected chapter's Author's Notes. All other characters (referring to human names) are fictional and any resemblance to people, living or dead, is a coincidence. I haven't gotten a royalty check from DHX Media or the Hub Network so that means that My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic belongs to DHX Media and the Hub Network. All I own is the story idea, nothing else. Any products mentioned belong to their respective owners. The MLP universe characters are humanized, however they retain whatever physical characteristics that belong to the four races. I reserve the right to change the rating or genre/character tags at any time for any reason. I have never been in the military nor do I plan to anytime soon, but I do have the respect to do as much research as I possibly can, without setting off red flags that is. Any misinformation is from lack of information, not wanting to set off red flags, or just plain laziness. If there is any major misinformation I'll try to edit it as much as possible without compromising the plot of the story. After all the main focus isn't on the military in this fic, but on the characters and their interactions. Anything that has been left INTENTIONALLY wrong is because of the aforementioned point as well as for drama. Think about how many cop shows have things incorrect for the sake of drama and drawing in the viewer.

Feedback:

I like feedback and criticism since this is my first published story on this site. If you have any questions or concerns you can reach me either here on the site or by going to my profile and clicking on the links to message me that way. I would prefer constructive criticism (ie: This was wrong, but you did this nicely. Here's how you'd change what you did wrong) over negative. If you find this story interesting enough to follow, go ahead and favorite it. If you really like it go ahead and give me a nice little thumbs-up there at the top (or bottom) of the chapter. If you dislike this, please leave a reason why so that I may do better in the future (preferably in PM form). And if you dislike this just to dislike it, please don't let the door hit you on your way out, no one's forcing you to read this. For those of you that stay, please enjoy yourselves and enjoy your stay.

Release schedule:

I try to release a chapter ever 4-14 days. Of course this is dependent on things like writer's block, editing a current chapter, being busy with life in the real world, work schedules, etc. However I reserve the right to take as long as I want to get a quality chapter out. We don't want a "crap chapter" now do we?

Other things:

This story is designed to be friendly towards the lore already set in place in the MLP universe up to the two-part season 4 premiere. After that it's sort of up for grabs. I'll try to keep up with the current episodes to make this as friendly to season 4 lore, but there might be some twists here and there, of course this little statement would be valid for episode 10 "Rainbow Falls." If you watch the episode you'll see why. If you want to throw me an OC name to use for a scene/chapter you can, however I reserve the right to whether I'll actually write it in or not. If I do then you'll receive credit for your character in the Author's Notes. The story starts in 2020 (our years), so every once in a while I might mention political things that happened in the past and how hypothetically they could be affecting "us" then. The era that that MLP characters live in is a pre-WWII-like era in terms of weapons technology.
This story was inspired by stories like CyberFire by Johnnycashsix, The Ranger's Journey by Silentpegasus, and The Journy of Graves series by GentlemanJ

If someone wants to do either a spin-off or a sequel that I do not plan on doing myself I do request (more like demand but I'm trying to be nice) that I be notified prior to publishing it via a PM or getting a hold of me via any other method that I have on my profile (twitter, YouTube, Xbox LIVE, etc. ). That would be more of a formal gesture of course.

Please avoid putting spoilers in the comments. If you must in order to discuss it with me or another reader please use the spoiler bbcode (putting "spoiler" in brackets: []) so that you don't accidentally spoil something for someone else.

Genre tags/General character information

The main genre tags that affect the story are listed as such. Chapter specific genre tags will be posted at the top of the chapter with an "A/N" and a color to emphasize the importance. That specific tag is then voided at the end of the chapter. If it does make it into the bulk of the story then it will be added to the main genre tags for the entire story.

The "sex" tag is for mainly jokes, innuendos (double endandtras), insinuation of sexual encounters/situations, and mentioning it in general. This is not a clopfic (if you're from fanfiction.net you'll be familiar with the terms "lemons" and "limes"), so while there might be suggestive scenes, there will be nothing graphically written since the content rating is "teen" and not "mature." HOWEVER, should I decide to do such a thing it will most likely appear in the form of an "extra scenes" or "deleted scenes" supplement separately published from the main story so those who don't want to read that won't have to. This would be in a similarly done fashion as done by the stories A Dash of Humanity, its sequel, and The Start of Something New. IF clop happens, that's how it will be done for this story.

The "gore" tag, like the sex tag, will only in chapters that I deem it necessary to progress the story. Again since this is a teen rated fic and not a mature one the gore levels will not be extreme.

As you viewed the main page of this story you saw the character tags for Spitfire, OC, and Other. Based on the "romance" tag it should be obvious that this is a Spitfire x OC story. The "others" that are mentioned is for other characters of the FiMverse that appear periodically and since I can only have 5 characters tagged that would make it a little difficult to have them all tagged. The main protagonists are Spitfire and my OC Andrew, the rest are secondary characters in terms of this story.

The races are relabeled as such (you could call this a "codex of species" if you desired to):
Unicorns -> Mages -> Still use magic, but with their hands instead of horns. Subtle markings signify what magic they're adept in.
Pegasi -> Angels -> Have wings proportionate to their bodies and can fly; also can use all other Pegasus abilities.
Earth ponies -> Earthborn -> Increased strength and stamina over the other races by default. Generally good with their hands (drawing, mechanics, farming, tinkering, masseuses, etc.).
Alicorns -> Princesses or Royalty -> All the abilities of the races, but with a higher power threshold.
Others (for reference purposes if mentioned):
Bat ponies -> Nightkin -> Same abilities as the "angels," have higher senses of hearing, bat wings instead of feathered ones. Naturally nocturnal because of their eyes (can live with the daytime, prefer not to if possible). Also have a false stereotype of drinking blood of animals and people.
Changelings -> Changelings -> Shapeshifting as shown in the show. Also can mimic voices similarly how mockingbirds can mimic other bird calls. They transform similarly to how Mystique does in the X-Men movies.
Sea ponies -> Mermen/Mermaids -> Think of what we typically think of in the human mythos for appearance. Control ocean currents. They can walk on dry land, but a drop of salt water causes them to change back. Have control of basic magic skills unrelated to the sea. They also may act as "sirens" to attract a mating partner if desperate enough.
Crystal ponies -> Crystalline -> The same sort of skill set as the Earthborn, however they like using crystals in their technology like we would use silicon chips for. It is not uncommon for their hair or skin to "sparkle" in sunlight, it is more prevalent during the Crystal Heart festival.
Breezies -> Pixies -> They have a kingdom hidden away on the western side of Equestria. The main gender distinction is that the afro-like hairstyle belongs to the men while the long flowing hair belongs to the women. Think of a similar look of what Tinkerbell from Peter Pan looked. Their primary language sounds like a mixture of Celtic and Swedish. Not much is known about them other than they travel through Ponyville once a year.
Dragons -> Dragons/Dragonborn -> There are two distinctions of the draconic species, the naturally hatched and the artificially hatched via magic. The naturally hatched take on the form of their draconic parents as they are hatched via dragon's fire; the artificially hatched are done so by magic (usually be very powerful mages) and take a form in which is appealing to the caster to take care of (imprinting based on magic signature). Naturally hatched dragons are of course called dragons or draconic, while their artificially hatched cousins are called dragonborn. Once their coming of age (puberty) arrives they may choose whether to stay as their artificially hatched form or take on a draconic form, however they must stay in the chosen form for the rest of their days. It is not uncommon for those during the draconic coming of age to swap between forms to see which they prefer. Dragonborn have slitted eyes as reptiles do and can breathe fire that can be used as a secure communication method between people as well as a self-defense mechanism. They are natural megalomaniacs.

Formatting: Added (7/10/14)
Alright now this is a bit new for me to be writing in here, but since I've been getting some new peeps watching and reading the story I figured that it would be good to get it out of the way as soon as possible to alleviate any confusion. Note that this is based off of most professional writing styles that I've observed in published novels.
"Speaking" - This is your standard character dialogue (though it will have slightly different quotes thanks to my word processor)
"'Quoting'" - This occurs when a character is quoting something or someone while speaking to another.
'Thoughts' - Internal monologue of anyone not the narrator (which means 9/10 times anyone but Andrew).
[Translation] - This only applies to where another language is being spoken, but has been "translated" over for you to read normally.

Alright then ladies, gents, and lads (please apply the appropriate title to yourself), now that you've read this little disclaimer/foreword section I would like to ask you to keep you hands and feet inside the car at all times and wait for the ride to make a complete stop before getting out of the car. Wait that's for rides at an amusement park? My bad. But regardless enjoy the story, and as stated before, I welcome feedback from my readers.

Chapter 4: Who the hell are you?

Chapter 4: Who the hell are you?

“Who the fuck are you and why are you in my house,” I said. With the woman’s arms in the air and nothing holding her towel, it fell to the ground leaving her nothing to cover her naked form. However my eyes were staring into hers and not at her body, well not now at least, maybe later.

“My name is Spitfire,” she replied. As I watched her pupils they didn’t move either left or right, which looking at her hands for a split second revealed heavier callous on her right hand than left telling me that she is right handed. She was telling the truth.

“Is that a call sign or nickname?” I again questioned.

“My real name,” she replied with no pause. Again her eyes didn’t move nor did her body language suggest anything other than the truth. “I’ve told you my name, what’s yours?”

“My house, my rules. And I’m the one holding the gun. Why did you break into my house?”

“I wanted to rest and take a shower. Your house looked empty and unlived in,” she replied. Again her body language told the truth but her voice seemed to be hiding something.

“Why?” I pressed.

“I have been walking in the desert for the last three days.”

“Why?”

“My plane crashed.”

“Why?”

“It was shot down,” she replied. This surprised me. I gripped the pistol’s grip tighter at the possibility that this, very beautiful by the way, woman could be a threat. She saw me tense up and reacted in kind with her pupils shrinking in fear and her breathing speeding up.

“Now why would you be shot down, pray tell?” I asked with both fear and curiosity.

“I don’t know. I was flying over the Bermareda triange-” she started.

“Don’t you mean Bermuda triangle?” I asked in an accusatory tone.

“No I mean Bermareda,” she replied. I again analyzed her body language, again suggesting that she was telling the truth. I nodded in acknowledgement and let her continue. “My team and I were flying into the Bermareda triange, or close enough to it, in our new prototype planes when a storm flared up and a funnel cloud descended on my plane and a few hours later the next thing I knew I was over a desert when two black planes showed up behind me telling me to land. But my rudder was locked up and my microphone was damaged from when I hit my head on the side of the canopy.

“They tried to signal me down but one pilot saw something and dropped behind me with his wingman. The alarms in my plane started going off as a magic missile locked-” she continued before getting cut off by me again.

“That brings up another issue all together. The only reason they would fire on another plane is if you were in restricted airspace OR you presented a threat,” I said putting my finger on the trigger. “Now why would that be?”

I could see the nervousness in her eyes as the pupils that had grown just a few minutes ago had again shrunk to pinpricks. Looking straight into her eyes, which has been said are windows to the soul, I could almost hear her thoughts for that moment. Something along the lines of, ‘I’m going to die naked in a stranger’s bathroom.’ You got to admit, not the most fucked up way to die, but for the normal deaths it’s kind of a strange one.

“B-b-b-because,” she nervously stuttered, “I had machine guns on it. Please don’t kill me,” she said quickly after closing her eyes trying to avoid the inevitable.

I saw the tattoo on her arm a phoenix covered in flames and on the other arm a mirror image of the same phoenix, “What squadron are you with?”

“What?” she said opening her eyes.

“Your tattoo, what squadron are you with?” I asked again, this time a little more irritated.

“This?” she pointed at her arm.

“No,” I said with extreme sarcasm, “the wings on your back.”

“You want to see my wings? Ok,” she said turning around, arms still in the air.

I rolled my eyes, “Haha very funn- HOLY SHIT! WHAT ARE THOSE?!?!” I exclaimed.

“My wings, I thought you wanted to see them,” she said innocently, but still scared out of her wits.

“I was being fucking sarcastic. There’s no way in hell those are real,” I said eyeing them.

“Why don’t you touch them if you don’t believe me, it’s like you’ve never seen an angel before today,” she said. Angel? As in the messengers from God ‘angels?’ She’s just probably one of those crazed cosplay girls. I put the cold barrel of my pistol into her spine and I could see her shiver a bit. She spread her ‘wings’ out. “Just… be gentle. They’re sensitive,” she said as if she were a virgin having sex for the first time. I rolled my eyes, not like she’d be able to see that though. But why not humor her?

Using my damaged hand I reached over and touched where the skin of her back met the start lightly furred yellow wing. It felt real enough, but I was not going to be taking any chances, for all I knew it was surgically implanted for some fetish. However when I touched them I could feel her muscles tremor and the wings twitch. There’s no way that plastic surgery could do that, not unless she hired a neurosurgeon to connect the nerves and muscles to the wings.

I know that today we have some pretty slick medical technology were we can reattach someone’s severed limb and several months later with shit-tons rehab later that person could POSSIBLY use that formerly severed limb. And that’s if you get an excellent doctor.

I dug my thumb into her shoulder blade with the same pressure you would if you were giving someone a massage. She did the thing that I least expected, she moaned quietly. A few prods later and I found the muscle on her back that attached to the wing. She figured I was trying to confirm that they were real and moved them up, down, forward, and back. I could feel the muscles pull and stretch in all directions. There was no way that those were fake. I stepped back.

She turned around, “Satisfied?”

“Yes. Now about my original question, what squadron?” I said with my gun still aimed at her chest, but eyes still level with her.

“The Wonderbolts,” she replied with both enthusiasm and calmness oddly enough.

I paused for a moment thinking of any Air Force or Navy units of that name, “Never heard of it,” I said flatly.

“YOU’VE NEVER HEARD OF THE WONDERBOLTS?!?” she exclaimed. My pistol raised slightly at her exclamation in surprise. That movement caused her to calm down in response as well.

“No I haven’t,” I repeated. But for some reason the combination of both her name and ‘Wonderbolts’ got my brain starting in thought. Those two names together did ring a bell, but I just couldn’t place my finger on it.

“I think it’s time I got to ask a question,” Spitfire said.

“Fine,” I said sort of half-heartedly, my mind still on its current train of thought.

“Where am I?” she asked. This question really wasn’t to be COMPLETELY unexpected since she hinted at she didn’t know where she was.

“Where do YOU think you are?” I countered. This would make or break whether this lovely looking woman was either smoking something and had gene splicing done by some shadowy government organization, complete with black helicopters and lizard people; OR something completely different that was only seen in sci-fi movies and TV shows.

She thought for a moment, “Based on the landscape I’d say somewhere between Los Pegasus and Appleoosa, or at least on the western coast of Equestria.”

Well played universe. “Well Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore.” She looked at me like I was the one on drugs, “The Wizard of Oz.” Still nothing, “You’re in Arizona, a desert state on the western coast of the United States of America.”

“I’m really confused, what?” her confusion was obvious. “I’ve been standing her with my hands up for the last ten minutes, can I please put some clothes on?”

I looked at her body, she was shivering now, and well that’s what not drying off after getting out of a shower in a stranger’s house gets you. “Just swear that you won’t attempt to harm or kill me.”

She paused for a moment, contemplating my proposal, “Agreed.” She put her right hand forward to start half of a handshake. I swapped hands with my pistol so it was now held by my bad hand. I completed the handshake. It was firm and not her arm was not limp at all. Her body language showed no signs of deceit or lies.

I put the safety back on and holstered my pistol. “Dry yourself off, I’ll be right back,” I said walking away. I walked over to my dresser and pulled musty smelling, but clean boxers, a short sleeve shirt, and sweat pants. I set them on the bed, “Sorry if they’re a little musty, I haven’t been home in almost 6 months. I’ll leave you to get changed, meet me in the kitchen when you’re done, we need to continue this little chat.” I took a few steps before turning around again, “My name is Andrew Briggs.” I closed the door to my room as I left, might as well give her some privacy.

I walked into the kitchen and looked inside the fridge, no surprise that there wasn’t anything in there, tends to happen when you’re gone for six months. Luckily someone I knew, maybe my parents, stopped by and at least cleaned out the food that could spoil. Opening the freezer I at least had some ice cream, possibly iced over, but it could be good for milkshakes or malts. I’m getting off topic.

Why was I trusting her? She had broken into my house and was using my shower. Was it because she looked a little, I don’t know, cute? But then again her wings didn’t help with the strangeness at all. I mean how the hell was this even possible? I have a small hunch, now to check up on it.

“Google: search terms ‘wonderbolts, spitfire, equestria,’” I said loud enough for my phone to pick up.

I sat there looking at the screen for a moment before only one result appeared on the screen. ‘Search result: 3. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.’ One was for the Hub website, the second a Wiki page, and the third was an entry on imdb. Against my better judgment I went for the wiki first. The page loaded a picture at the top of a yellow pony with an uncanny hairdo with the exact same coloring as the same woman who was in my bedroom right now. Same thing with her wings, they were the same coloring as the coat on this animated pony.

How much further do I go down the rabbit hole? I go over to YouTube and find a clip with the pony called Spitfire. After watching and listening to it all I could say was, “Damn.” It was her voice.

“Something wrong?” Spitfire said as she emerged from my bedroom now wearing my old “People Like Grapes” shirt from Rooster Teeth and those black sweatpants. Wet hair plastered to her head with no styling to speak of.

“Care explaining this?” I ask showing her my phone and the video on it.

Author's Note

A shorter chapter this time around due to my girlfriend wanting to spend more time together, which is never a bad thing. Some major gaming sprees took place during the writing and editing of this. Assassin's Creed IV, Battlefield 4, Call of Duty: Ghosts, and Bioshock Infinite: Burial at Sea episode 1. Fun stuff.
The "People Like Grapes" shirt is available on the Rooster Teeth store and is probably one of my favorite quotes from their podcast.

No real notes in the chapter itself on the content. Other than that I didn't find any glaring issues when editing this guy. If you noticed something that I didn't, PM me or comment it and I'll fix it ASAP.
Oh and a happy Thanksgiving to all of you who celebrate it.

Special: Jack Frost Nipping at Your Nose (Christmas)

A/N: The events that happen in this chapter happen in the future from where the current chapters are. MEANING that these events will happen eventually, and the chapters will be rearranged to make this happen when the chapters line up. The things that happen inside this chapter will carry over to the rest of the story, as well as events that have not quite occurred, yet. Other than that enjoy the chapter and enjoy your holiday season. While I celebrate Christmas and hate political correctness, enjoy whatever it is that you do with your families this time of year. Look, I even changed the text green here to be festive :)
BIG NOTE HERE: There is ONE suggestive scene that fits the "sex" tag that I added to the story at the beginning. It is rated PG-13 at the most, just a heads up.

Special Chapter: Jack Frost Nipping at Your Nose

I’ve been standing at this jewelry counter at a department store in the mall for the last hour just thinking of a present for Spitfire. I’m sort of thinking along the lines of either a watch, a nice watch mind you, or a gold necklace. Damn, decisions decisions. I mean the necklace she could wear every day, but then it would attract attention while she’s at work possibly making her a mugging target. HOWEVER it would look nice on fancy dates. On the other hand the watch could be used all year round and has one of those solar cells that recharges the battery constantly so it always runs.

I look around me and I see all the holiday shoppers running around getting their last minute gifts for both friends and family alike. It’s only two days to Christmas Eve and people are still shopping, but why am I surprised, I am too. Yeah I waited until the last minute and I know it’s not smart but I’ve been busy with working at the bar and taking Spitfire to physical therapy.

Yep, that’s right, physical therapy. She’s up and about and doesn’t have a cast on either leg anymore. Which, by the way, is a good thing. I mean being forced to be in a wheelchair for the last two months sucks ass. I built a ramp for both the garage and front door out of plywood so she could go and at least exercise her arms and get some fresh air.

But it’s Christmas now, in fact it’s her first Christmas as well as our first one together so I really want to make this gift special. I mean yeah I could get her a book, or music, but for some reason jewelry just seems right. It’s just what seems to be what couples get each other. The manager saw my conflicted looks and came over.

“Sir, is there something I can help you with?” she asked.

“Actually yes,” I replied standing up. “I’m looking for a present for my wife, it’s our first Christmas together.”

“Ooh, a newlywed Christmas!” she said excitedly. “I know just the thing!” she said grabbing my wrist and dragged me along. “You know you’re the second person to visit this week shopping for their newlywed spouse.”

“Really?” I deadpanned, not really interested. “Tell me more.” She dragged me to the other side where the diamond jewelry was.

“Ok,” she said putting her index finger to her chin. “If I remember right she was a pretty girl, she had a funny limp though. Anyway, I helped her pick out this really cute Christmas themed lingerie set. All I can say is that her hubby is going love that present, if you know what I mean,” she said winking while nudging me in the ribs with her elbow.

“Right, good for them,” I said rolling my eyes. “What did you want to show me?”

“Oh right,” she said before stepping behind the counter. “Here I have a 24k gold plated watch. It’s really nice and shiny. Who doesn’t like something shiny?”

“How much?” I ask pondering. And when I say pondering I mean rubbing my chin’s hair stubble. She told me the price, “Damn. That much?” I asked. She nodded with a bubbly smile plastered on her face. “I’ll need a moment, if you don’t mind that is.”

“Sure, take all the time you need!” she said before turning to help another customer. I looked at the watch, it sure is shiny. And it looked nice too. But that price is definitely nothing to scoff at either. I pull out a quarter from my pocket.

“Heads I buy it, tails I look for something else,” I say just loud enough for only a person standing right next to me could hear. I flip the coin and catch it in my right hand and set it on my left arm. I slowly lifted my hand up and opened my eyes to look at the coin: heads. “Miss?” I said loud enough to get her attention. She turned around and came back, the same smile still plastered on her face, “I’ll take it.”

“Wonderful! Let me ring you up.” She rand me up and then she wrapped it in a nice box before putting it in a gift bag. I left the store a few hundred dollars poorer, but had a nice present so that’s an upside. As I walk towards the exit I see a music store with a poster for the Rat Pack. I remember this one time where my parents took me to this restaurant up in Wisconsin while visiting my grandparents (mom’s side of the family), and it was themed around Dean Martin. What was the name of the restaurant called again? Oh right, “That’s Amore.” Which oddly enough is the name of one of his songs.

Which reminds me of something Spitfire said a few months ago, that she really liked the post-WWII music, mainly stuff by Sonatra, Martin, and the other guys like that. I walked inside and bought a CD box set, hopefully she’ll like it. Now it’s time to head home and start packing.

***

Briggs Residence, December 23, 2020

“Andrew,” Spitfire called. “Why do we have to go all the way to Boulder again?” she asked as she lugged her luggage over to the car trunk.

“Because,” I started pulling her bag into the trunk, “my grandparents invited my parents, my sister, and I to come out for Christmas this year.”

“And we’re driving because…” she trailed off.

“Because it’s a waste of money to fly such a short distance,” I replied.

“Hey I could fly there with my wings and then meet you there-”

“Unless you want to be flying in subzero weather I’d advise against it. Plus it’s only a good seven or eight hour drive. Nothing too bad. If you want you can drive a bit until we hit the colder weather,” I said with a smile. Might as well let the speed demon have the wheel while the road isn’t icy.

“Well now that you put it that way,” she leaned closer to me. “Sure,” she said before kissing me quickly.

“Now that we have that settled, do you have everything?”

Spitfire started looking inside the trunk to see if she had all her bags. “I think so,” she replied. I started to close the trunk, “Wait, hold on I need to check something.” She went to open a bag but paused, “Turn around please.” I rolled my eyes and turned around. I heard a zipper unzip and Spitfire say, “Ok I’ve got it.” She zipped the bag back up, “You can turn around now.”

“All good then?”

“All good,” she said with a smile. I closed the trunk and then I went back inside the house turning off any lights still on as well as hitting the switches on the surge protectors, turning off any plugged in electronics. I then made sure that the back and front doors were locked and all the windows were closed before heading back into the garage and locking the garage door. Spitfire was already in the driver’s seat, well I did promise her after all.

I stepped inside the car, “Alright I’m good to go, everything’s locked up tight.” She backed out of the garage and I pushed the garage door button on the remote and I watched as the door closed. I went to the car’s console and turned on the GPS, I set it for my grandparents’ house.

“At the next intersection, turn right, then go straight,” the fake female voice modeled after a British lady said. What? I’m a sucker for ladies with accents. Spitfire popped the Evo into drive and started following the directions. I am definitely glad she knows stick.

***

Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Utah

“Hey careful!” I yelled as Spitfire zipped around another car that was going too slow. “I want to get there, but I want to get there alive.”

“Sorry, but they were going ten under the speed limit,” Spitfire replied, her eyes still on the road. Well at least that lesson stuck with her ever since I gave her that refresher course before she started working at the casino.

As we drove along I watched the cacti eventually stop and normal trees starting to show up. My ears must’ve popped a few times, meaning we went up a few thousand feet. We stopped for a few times picking up a cup of coffee, or two. We stopped once to eat at a Taco Bell. What can I say? I’m a sucker for spiced beef and cheese in a soft shell tortilla.

Eventually snow starts popping up little by little in patches by the road, this is a good time as any for me to take over driving. I may not have a whole lot of experience driving in snow, but when I lived back in Arizona we went up to Flagstaff a few times in the winter to visit an old friend. The road was icy and I learned my lesson that day: don’t try to go fast on icy roads, also the salt used to deice the roads is annoying to clean.

“Hey Spits, pull off at the next rest stop and we’ll switch,” I say rubbing my eyes from a small nap.

“Ok,” she replied simply. Another twenty minutes passed until we came upon a rest area. We took care of “business” and grabbed a drink from the machines. After that we got back in, me this time and we took off yet again. We have a few more hours of driving until we hit the Rockies. At least the playlist on the radio is good.

***

Rocky Mountain Range, 7pm

This must’ve been the fourteenth turn on this twisting road alone. Jesus this is getting annoying. It doesn’t help that we have to slow down from the already slow 30mph to less than 20mph. The ice on the road is not helping at all, and the snow falling isn’t helping either. I mean come on, the visibility is maybe sixty yards at best. As we turn corners I see cabins that are lit up and not lit at all, meaning some people are living in and others people aren’t even home in. I mean I know that people aren’t turning in yet, it’s only 7pm.

“So how much longer?” Spitfire asked for the fifth time. Well it wasn’t annoying like a kid asking ‘are we there yet?’ consistently, but an adult asking for an update. But I’m feeling her pain, I’m starting to regret not flying now. My ass probably won’t let me feel the end of this for the next few days, both while at my grandparents’ and on the way home.

“If we’re lucky only two more hours at this speed,” I replied. I looked over and saw Spitfire’s annoyed facial expression. “Hey I don’t like it any more than you do, but it’s the road condi-.” As I attempted to finish that sentence I felt the car start to slide off the road as the tires attempted to find traction, but found none.

“HOLY SHI-!” Spitfire yelled my exact thought as we slid off the road and into a small ditch on the side of the road. As we jolted to a stop hitting a tree trunk. We both let out an “Oof” as our seat restraints kept us in place. Speaking of which mine knocked the air out of me for a second.

Once I was able to take a breath I turned towards Spitfire and asked, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” she replied as she looked up. “Umm would you mind moving your hand?”

I looked over and saw that my hand, which flung out subliminally to brace her, had ended up groping one of her breasts. “Oops, sorry,” I said with a slight blush forming on my face as I removed my hand. I saw that she also had a slight blush in her cheeks as well.

“What happened?”

“The tires lost traction,” I replied. “Hold on, I’m going to see if I can put this in reverse and get us out of this ditch.” I throw the gear into reverse and step on the gas. The tires squeal and snow gets kicked up behind the tires, but the car doesn’t move. “Well shit.”

“Now what?” Spitfire asked slouching in her chair.

I checked my phone, no signal, “Well, I guess we could start walking and see if we could get some help from a cabin around here,” I answer. I reach down and pull the lever that unlocks the trunk. “Grab your bag, we’ll take it with us.” We head back and grab our bags, luckily we only had three. Two that were our clothes bags and one that was for presents for family.

Grabbing the bags out I closed the trunk and locked the car up. We start walking along the road, looking for a driveway for a cabin. Each pace we took was frigidly cold. In a pure moment of 20/20 hindsight we only packed sweatshirts, but nothing heavy. I know, it was a stupid move on my part. Spitfire still had her bomber jacket, but even still I could see her shivering.

We approached the first driveway and walked up it. It was a few hundred yards. Damn this must be really annoying to shovel or plow.

***

Meanwhile…

“Phrasing!”

***

As we approached the door, I saw that the cabin was dark. I knocked on the door, hoping that the owners were home and just sleeping. I rang the doorbell a few times and five minutes later still no one came to the door. I then started looking for a spare key placed in one of those false rocks. There were none. Then I looked for what’s known in the spy trade as a “slick,” a small cutout hole that is used to hide things from others.

I looked above the doorframe and found nothing. Then I checked inside the mailbox and found a small magnetic key box. I took out the key and unlocked the door. “Milady,” I said opening the door for Spitfire. She quickly hopped inside, I went inside two just a moment later, closing the door behind me.

“Ok, so we don’t want to do too much damage on these guys, so try to keep our meddling down to a minimum,” Spitfire said.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” I commented. As we went further inside, using my phone’s LED light as a flashlight, I found a switch in the kitchen and turned it on. Then we went down into the hallway towards the bedrooms. I opened door after door trying to find the master bedroom. Ever since the first night Spitfire got back from the hospital she started asking me to sleep in the same bed as her. I talked to her therapist about it, apparently I’m her "safe-zone," so that’s been going on. We haven’t tried anything. She’s held on to me as she’s slept, but nothing other than that.

“Found the master bedroom,” I said down the hall. Spitfire came a moment later carrying her bag. “Go ahead and get ready for bed, once we can we’re going to take off.”

“Ok, what are you going to do?” Spitfire asked.

“I’m going to find a landline and see if I can call a tow truck to come out and get the car, and us of course,” I replied. Spitfire went inside the bedroom and I went to the kitchen, since that’s where phones usually show up in a house, or cabin in this case.

I found the phone on the counter right next to the microwave, not where I would have personally put it but whatever. I picked up the phone and listened for the dialing tone. I opened my wallet and found my insurance card, which had a 800 number for a towing service nationwide. I called it and listened for the tone.

“AAA towing, how can I help you?” the male voice asked.

“Yes, my name is Andrew Briggs, account number 8675309, and I need a tow. My car’s stuck in a ditch,” I replied.

“And where are you?”

“About ten miles south of Boulder, about a quarter mile south of,” and I give the address of the cabin.

“Alright sir, do you need to be towed immediately?”

“Preferably soon, my wife and I are taking refuge in the house in which the address is associated with. If you could send a truck tomorrow morning when the roads are a little cleaner and less hazardous, that would be fantastic.”

“Alright then, sir. We will have a truck out there as soon as we can,” he said before hanging up. Well at least that’s one thing taken care of.

I place the phone back on its receiver and head back to the master bedroom. I enter the bedroom and open my bag and take out my sleepwear of a pair of sleep pants, I usually just wear whatever shirt I wore that day. I look over and see Spitfire’s bag had been opened, so she must be changing. I look over to the bathroom and see below the door that the light is on, she must be taking care of a few things.

“Well I have a truck coming tomorrow,” I said loud enough to get through the door.

“Ok,” Spitfire replied through the door.

It felt as though the heat was off, “It’s cold isn’t it?” I said getting myself settled in the bed.

“Well I have an idea how to beat the cold,” she said opening the door. In the doorway stood Spitfire in red lingerie with fake white fur lining them and a Santa hat on her head, her wings splayed out slightly. “You could open your Christmas gift a little early,” she said with a lustful look in her eye. She would put one of those Victoria's Secret 'Angels' in their fashion show to shame.

“Umm, wow,” I said dumbfounded. When I recovered from the visual shock, mainly because she had never done this before now. “Are you sure about this?” I asked as she started walked towards the bed all sexy-like.

She pushed me on my back and crawled on top of me and kissed me deeply. She pulled away and said, “Yes I do. I really want this.” She kissed me again, her tongue darting into my mouth and attempting to twist around mine. She took off my shirt, which was a little difficult considering I was the one whose back is on the bed. I in return reached behind her and unclasped her bra causing it to fall away.

She pressed closer to me, causing her warm breasts to squish against my chest. She reached down below underneath my sleep pants and… yeah let’s keep this PG-13. FADE TO BLACK!

***

Thirty minutes later

“Wow,” we both said underneath the sheets and comforter, naked and sweaty. Spitfire was wrapped around me and I had my arm around her waist caressing her obliques. Her lingerie thrown away from the bed, and her Santa hat now on my head. Her wings were relaxed, one had been draped across me, the other was just sitting on the bed.

“That was-,” I started.

“Fun,” Spitfire finished.

“I was going to go with fantastic, but that works too.” I turn to her and give her a little kiss on the lips again. “I guess we finally consummated our marriage.”

“I guess so,” she replied. “Wanna go again?” she asked a minute later with an impish grin.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I replied with my own devilish grin.

***

The sunlight peeked through the blinds in the bedroom. As I looked at us I saw that the sheets were wrapped around us, as our “activities” the previous night took the sheets and unmade them from the bed. Spitfire’s form was wrapped around me and me around her. It was great.

“Hey,” I said as she woke up.

“Hey,” she echoed. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good. You?”

“I’m a little sore, but none worse for wear. Last night was wonderful,” she said while tracing small circles on my chest with her index finger.

“It certainly was. Who knew the owners had ‘that’ stuff hidden in the drawers?”

“It certainly would have made Quagmire proud,” Spitfire commented. “We should probably shower before heading out,” she said getting out of the bed, not even making an attempt to cover herself. Hey I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it. She stopped at the doorway to the bathroom and looked back at me, “Waiting for an invitation to join me?” Oh I think Christmas just got a little better for me.

***

One shower later

We got dried off and dressed. Best. Shower. Ever. That's all I'm going to say about it. I do wonder what’s got Spits in this mood though. She’s never been like this before. I guess I’ll talk to her about it later. I placed everything back in the bathroom where we found it, minus some shampoo and bodywash. We remade the bed and left it as it was before our nighttime shenanigans. We packed up our bags and left the cabin as if no one were even there. Spitfire started walking down the driveway and I locked the door again before leaving the key where I found it. I joined her at the end of the driveway.

We walked down to where the car was, at least now the roads were cleared and deiced, and the sun is out so that’s a bonus. I looked at my watch and saw it was only 9am. We sat on the side of the road, thanks to some chairs that I had stashed in my trunk for going to a sporting event or something. You know, those folding lawn chairs. I had packed a cooler that I forgot to bring with us to the cabin, but on the bright side, everything inside is cold now, so there’s that.

“Pretzel?” I said offering the bag to Spitfire.

“Why thank you, lover,” she said taking a pretzel. Eventually a tow truck showed up and took us, and the car, into town. Finally we got a cell signal a good mile or two from town, it’s about freaking time. He took us to the repair shop in town and I called a cab. A good half hour later of traversing city roads and we arrived at my grandparents’ house. We got out, and of course paid the fare. We walked up to the front door and I rang the doorbell.

“One second!” my mom’s voice said. She opened the door. “Oh Andrew, Sam, I thought you were going to be here last night. What happened?” she said giving us both a hug, mostly out of concern for our safety.

“Well the car slid off the side of the road, we had to spend the night in an empty cabin,” I answered. She gave me the stinkeye, “Well it was either that or freezing in the car,” I shrugged.

“Well come inside, you must be freezing,” she said ferrying us inside. She closed the door, “Emily got here last night and little Jenny has been looking forward to seeing her favorite uncle.”

“I’m her only uncle,” I deadpan as I put my bag down.

“Well you know what I mean,” she turned to Spitfire. “Sam it’s nice to see you up and about, the physical therapy went well then?”

“Is still going well, yes. I’s just so nice to be up and about again instead of being in a wheelchair or on crutches,” Spitfire replied. We walked into the kitchen and I was assaulted by the little “terror” that is Jenny. And she has… pink hair?

“Uncle Andy!” she said as she grabbed onto my leg and hung on. Spitfire and my mom chuckled at my niece’s reaction to seeing her ‘favorite uncle.’

“Hey there squirt, how are you?” I ask my still clinging niece.

“I didn’t sleep at all last night, I was waiting to see you and my new auntie,” she let go and started looking around the room. Her eyes locked onto Spitfire, “Is that her?”

“Yes Jenny, that’s your aunt Sam.”

She stopped and looked at Spitfire for a good minute, “I can see why you married her, she’s pretty.” Oh kids say the darndest things, but it’s not false by any means.

She ran over to Spitfire and gave her a hug, “Hi aunty Sam, can I call you aunty Sam, aunty Sam?” Oh kids and their enthusiasm.

“Sure you can,” Spitfire replied returning Jenny’s hug.

“YAY!” she cried out, running back into the living room; presumably to get my sister.

“Hey Andrew, can I have a word with you for a second?” Spitfire asked. I nodded and my mom went back into the kitchen.

“So what did you want to talk about?” I ask.

Spitfire kept her voice low, “Andrew, I don’t know what it is, but your niece, well my niece now, looks familiar but I can’t place my finger on it.”

“Well you did see that picture from Disneyland my sister sent to me.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s something else and I just can’t put my finger on why she looks so familiar,” she said rubbing her temples.

“Well you’ll figure it out eventually,” I say putting my arm around her. “Why don’t we meet the rest of my family?” She nodded and I led her into the living room. Inside was my father, grandfather, and sister.

“-and she’s really pretty looking. There she is!” Jenny said pointing to us, or well more specifically Spitfire. Emily walked over to us and looked really close at Spitfire, examining her from head to toe. After a good five minutes of just staring her down Emily finally stepped back.

“Jenny’s right, she is pretty. I approve,” Emily finally said. “Hi Sam, I’m Emily,” she said shaking Spitfire’s hand before pulling her into a hug. Yes my family’s one of those ‘touchy-feely’ types, one type that I’m pretty reserved about.

“AKA my overprotective sister,” I add in.

“Hey, I resemble that remark. And hello to you too Andrew. I can’t help it, I am your older sister after all. It’s sort of my job.”

“Last time I checked it was the brother’s job, regardless of who’s older, to be the overprotective one, and a good question from an uncle/overprotective brother is why is Jenny’s hair pink?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh she’s just been obsessed with this anime series lately where the main heroine has pink hair. Some magical girl anime or something,” she said with a shrug.

‘Anime?’ Spitfire mouthed.

‘I’ll explain later,’ I mouthed back. It dawns on me that I never really explained that media type to Spits, mainly because I don’t watch it as much as I used to back in my teen and earlier twenties. “Please don’t tell me it’s the one with that cat creature that grants wishes but they end up being twisted in the end,” I said mentally cringing.

“Oh no not THAT one, that would scar her that’s for sure. No think along the lines of Sailor Moon.” Well that was one moment of relief. “So how are things?” she asks me as both Spitfire and I sit down on the loveseat. “Well other than getting married of course.”

I told my sister my late doings, which haven’t been much all things considering. I mean I can’t say that I work for a secretive government organization now can I? All everyone knows about one clandestine thing I took place in was taking down that killer, but that’s about it. They all know about how Spitfire aka ‘Sam’ has been going through physical therapy for the last two months.

The next few hours went by quickly. My grandfather talked to Spitfire about us and herself in general. You know the drill: what do you do for a living? How did you two meet? Etc. My dad chatted with us too. Eventually my mom came in and told us it was time for lunch. We then chatted with her and my grandma, who was delighted to see that I managed to find a woman to love. At first I sort of took it as an insult but then brushed it off.

After lunch we watched TV, Spits sitting next to me, until around 9pm when we sent Jenny off to bed. After she had been in bed for about an hour, we started placing the presents under the tree.

“So why are we doing this again?” Spitfire asked me.

“Well Jenny believes that if she’s good she’ll get presents from Santa tomorrow morning,” I reply placing a present from both me and Spits under the tree.

“Why not just do it just because you want to give her a present?”

“Think of it as a behavioral mechanism that uses positive reinforcement to produce positive attitudes using ‘presents from Santa’ as a reward mechanism.” She took that as a satisfactory answer and left it at that. We finished up and met the rest of the family in the kitchen. We all had a glass of wine.

“To family and new family members,” my grandpa toasted. Everyone *clinked* their glasses together. Did you know that it’s bad luck to drink before the ringing stops? After almost everyone had a good half of a glass one thing started bugging me.

“Hey Emily, where’s Eric?” I said downing the rest of my drink and pouring another.

“Oh yeah, he had a last minute business trip yesterday over in Bangkok,” she said not drinking a single drop of her drink at all.

“Well his boss must be an ass to not to let him off to spend Christmas with you and Jenny,” Spitfire said taking a drink.

“Hey Emily I just noticed something, you haven’t had a single sip yet, what’s going on?” my mom asked.

She sat silent for a moment, we by proxy were also silent. “I wanted to wait to tell everyone this but… I’m pregnant,” she said putting her glass down. The room was deathly silent until…

“Oh my God!” my mom exclaimed out excitedly while hugging Emily. “How far along are you?” she asked as she released her.

“About two weeks now.”

“Congrats sis,” I said raising a glass. “To the new kid!” I toasted and everyone, minus Emily, clinked glasses.

“Please don’t tell Jenny, I want this to be a surprise for her,” Emily pleaded. We all agreed, we might as well let her say it after all.

The rest of the night went pretty uneventfully, other than asking if Eric knew yet, which was a ‘no’ answer. We watched some more TV before calling it a night. Spitfire and I went towards our assigned bedroom, Emily to the one Jenny was sleeping in, my parents to theirs, and my grandparents’ to theirs. Spitfire and I got ready for bed, you know the drill. Brushing teeth, swapping over to sleeping attire, etc.

“So how’d you enjoy meeting the family?” I asked as I finished changing, sliding myself under the covers of the bed.

“It was interesting, but I enjoyed it. I especially like little Jenny, cute little thing,” Spitfire replied as she finished changing. She had a pink sleep button-up shirt with long sleeves and pants on, nothing like she had on the previous night. Makes sense though, we don’t want to be trying anything while a youngster is in the house, or my parents. She slid into bed under the covers, “What’s up with your sister being so protective?” she asked as she slid closer to me, turning her back towards me but sliding against me, like spoons.

I wrapped my arm around just above her hips, “Well she saw me though a rough time back in high school with a girl I asked out. She totally humiliated me in front of her friends. News spread through the school and I was branded as a loser and dweeb,” I replied. The events had been years ago, but the emotional scarring was still there. “I got teased every day until the end of the year. It got so bad that I requested that my parents had me switch schools, after that it got better. Every time I asked out a girl Emily would look into her and would either give me her approval or disapproval of that girl.”

“She must really love you to do all that for you.”

“Yeah, borderline psychopathic; but hey, she’s saved me a lot of heartbreak over the years.”

“Well I guess that makes sense,” she said rolling over so her face faced me. “I love you,” she said before kissing me and I kissed her back. “Goodnight,” she said flipping back over and positioned herself as she did before.

“I love you too, ‘nite,” I echoed before surrendering to sleep.

***

“Mom! Mom! Santa came!” Jenny said as she ran out of her room, jumping on Emily’s bed. My door slammed open and Jenny started jumping on my bed. “Auntie Sam! Uncle Andy! Santa came!” she yelled as she kept jumping on the bed. She jumped off the bed, running into my parents’ room and then finally my grandparents’.

“What’s going on?” Spits said groggily.

I chuckled and I gave her a kiss on her forehead. “Wake up babe, it’s Christmas Day.”

She slowly rose up and looked at the alarm clock. “6am? Why would anyone wake up at 6am on a holiday?” she said before landing on her back. "Even back home on Hearth's Warming the Wonderbolts have the day off."

I got out of bed, “Well if we don’t get up now she’ll just come back and keep jumping until we wake up,” I say walking over to her side and giving her another kiss.

“Get me coffee and I’ll love you long time,” she said with a groggy smile on her face.

“Of course my queen,” I said kissing her again. “Your Christmas wish is my command,” I finish saying as I feign a fake British accent.

“Careful, you’ll make the Princess jealous with that kind of talk,” she called to me as I left the bedroom.

***

Later…

Jenny was bouncing off the walls just waiting to open her presents. We have a tradition in my household, which is to distribute all the presents to the recipients and then let them open them as fast or as slow as they wanted. It’s the duty of the master of the house, in this case my grandfather, to distribute the gifts. Once they had we had a countdown. When the count reached zero, Jenny just ripped into her pile of presents; she was done in the matter of minutes whereas the rest of us were really taking our time.

My first present had been from my mom, it was a shirt that said “Pi Hard.” Oh mental_floss, I enjoy your witty science related shirts and other media. Spits first gift had been a pink woolen scarf that was hand-made by my grandma, she’s a knitter. The second package I opened had been a blue woolen scarf, identical to the one that Spits had received. Actually everyone received a scarf, she must have been busy the last few weeks to get that all done. Spits also loved the Rat Pack box set I got her, we’d probably listen to it later.

I got a lot of gift certificates to restaurants and fast food places, and gas. You can never go wrong with gas gift cards. Jenny was already playing with her new toys, some of which I helped open. Hey, I’m a nice uncle; hence me being her favorite. Ok yeah I’m her only uncle, but you get the point. I finally got to my last gift and Spits was on hers too. I already knew what hers was, it was the watch I picked out. Mine though was a box shaped present. She opened hers and was taken back with how shiny it was, that jewelry girl was right. Ladies do like shiny things.

“Andrew, it’s so… pretty,” Spits said taking it out and put it on. She looked at it from many different angles just looking at how the light caught the metal.

“I thought you’d like something to keep track of time with other than your phone, this caught my eye and I thought of you,” I replied. Ok so it was a half-truth, the associate had to lend me a hand. And sort of cheesy in the line department.

“I love it,” she said giving me a huge kiss, Jenny let out a ‘eww.’ Ah little kids, got to scar them some time or another. “Open yours, it’s from me,” she said holding up the boxy package. I opened it slowly and found a gun case. I gave Spits a puzzling look, but she told me, “Keep going.” I opened the case and what I saw surprised me.

“No way,” I said as I picked up the nickel-like gun. “An MP412 REX,” I said as I opened the breech, exposing the six round cylinder. “How did you get this?” I asked as I closed it and rotated the cylinder.

“I talked to one of your old Army buddies and he got me it,” she replied with a smile. By that she probably means that she talked to someone in the armory at Area 51 for it.

“I love it,” I said giving her a kiss.

“I’m glad you like it,” she smiled back as I pulled away. “You did say that you liked the classic look of old Western-style guns.” That got a smile out of my grandpa, an avid John Wayne fan.

“You can’t beat the classics,” I said placing the revolver back in the case. You also can’t beat being together with family. Grandparents that spoil you, parents that like to berate you though they love you, a sister who is way too overly protective, a niece who I swear has been getting caffeine, and a wife who I love more than anything.

“Come everyone, it’s time for the family photo,” my mother said. We all gathered in front of the tree, our favored presents in hand. Mine was the revolver, I’m a gun nut with a taste for the classics. Spits was her new watch, she was wearing it proudly. Mom had a new frying pan. Dad had a ‘world’s best dad’ jersey-style shirt. Grandpa had a coffee mug. Grandma had nice looking gold necklace from my grandpa as well as a hand-made ornament from Jenny. Jenny had, oddly enough, a Spitfire stuffed animal. My mom set up the tripod and set the timer and took her place in the group.

“Alright everyone, say ‘cheese!’” mom said to us all. We said ‘cheese’ and a second later the picture was taken.

I gave Spits a kiss, “Best first Christmas ever?”

“Best first Christmas ever,” she echoed before kissing me back.

Perfect outro music? Listen here.

Author's Note

A pace is around a yard (or meter for our metric friends across the Atlantic and in South America).
Another Archer reference for your enjoyment.
Also I placed a little Burn Notice fact in there, I hope you enjoyed it. Damn I love that show.
The LED light is the flashlight app available built in on iOS 7 phones.
Also a “Jenny” reference. Just youtube it (or "8675309"), you’ll get it fast enough. Hopefully.
Fun fact: This is my longest chapter to date.
I'm also dropping some massive "Checkov's Guns" here in this chapter. Why was I so specific about Emily's husband and where he was? Why was I specific about the gun? And all the other stuff? Well you'll just have to stay tuned and see now won't you?
I wish you all a Merry Christmas (or insert whatever holiday you celebrate) and a Happy New Year.
Normal chapter progression will resume after this gets published.
I would love to think I caught all my errors, but sometimes they slip through. If I missed something then PM or comment it out to me and I'll fix it ASAP.

Chapter 29: What the Hell Happened?

A/N: Sorry for the extreme delay guys, I've just been going through some things in my personal life that made me push this further and further back until finally getting it done. I was originally planning on getting this out by Christmas, but that didn't happen thanks to a nasty strain of the flu. New Year's became a bust when I needed to take someone to the hospital multiple times. So I finally get it done when Xbox LIVE decides to go ape shit on me. Oh and don't even start on internet issues thanks to Time Warner, when Google Fiber comes to town I'm immediately signing up. So without further ado, I present chapter 29.

As I begin to wake up I feel two warm appendages around my abdomen and two fleshy bags of wonderfulness pressed against my back. I open my eyes and look over my shoulder to see Spitfire sleeping peacefully. That being the case I slowly and carefully remove her arms and slip out of bed. This room that Twilight set us up with in the local inn is pretty nice. I walk groggily over to the bathroom and close the door behind me. I lift the lid off the toilet and reach down to…

“What the-?” I say as I look down only to see that my best friend since birth is missing. I quickly move over to the mirror and see that instead of a slightly muscular man in his prime is a sixteen to seventeen year old young woman with teal hair, a slim body, white wings, and C-cup breasts. I reached up and squeezed them a few times. Sue me, any other guys would do the same in my situation. Then a phrase slipped out of my mouth, and it was-.

“HOLY FUCKIN’ ASS CRACKERS!” I exclaimed in a girly shriek.

The door burst open and standing in the doorway was a nude Spitfire, “Andrew, what happened- who the fuck are you?” she demanded.

“Spits it’s me, it’s just,” I gestured to my body. “I have no idea what the fuck happened.”

“Ok that’s Andrew’s foul language and mannerisms,” she muttered. “And quit staring at your boobs. Oh don’t give me that look,” she said as she saw my pouting face. “You’ll get tired of them soon enough. A better question is how you got this way.”

“You and me both. What happened last night?”

“Well after the whole revelation of the complex and the video…”

***

The previous night…

“But how is that possible? When you found that I was still back in Vegas doing something or another,” I asked.

“In the video you looked older, not physically but emotionally and mentally,” Twilight replied. “Like something bad happened and you were doing damage control.”

“How would you know what that looks like?” Spitfire asked.

“My brother was the same after the attack on his wedding. I never figured out why, since I never specialized as a psychologist, but I figured that the events with both Sombra and Chrysalis made a huge impact on his psyche. I figure some large scale event impacted you whenever that video was recorded.”

“Was anyone able to explore more of that facility?” Spitfire asked.

“No. All areas except for a few, primarily the infirmary, kitchens, that first room, and a few quarters; everything else was sealed off and won’t open. Even with some of our most powerful equipment we can’t cut through that metal,” Twilight answered.

“Maybe it’s time we made our way to this place and see for ourselves. If Andrew truly was the person in that video, maybe somehow he can open it.”

“And how would we do that? I haven’t even seen this place,” I countered.

“Well perhaps ‘other you’ thought about this in advance. If ‘other you’ could lead us to ‘you’ you, then what’s to say that he didn’t prepare for something like this?” Celestia asked.

***

Back to the present

I sat on the bed, using my button-up shirt to cover myself up, holding a mug of hotel coffee. To be honest, it wasn’t bad. “So, what happened after that?”

Spits sighed as she wrapped her wing around my shoulders, a similar mug of coffee sitting on the end table. “Well we discussed a time in which we could travel up to wastelands outside the Empire to look at the ship-facility-thing.”

“So how did I end up a chick?”

“Well even I’m not too sure about that,” Spits replied sheepishly.

“What do you know then?”

“Well shortly after saying their goodbyes, Celestia after she grabbed a slice of cake, Luna left after grabbing a bottle of wine saying, ‘Back to dealing with annoying nobles. Fare thee well’ before leaving. Cadence stayed for a while before she too had to leave, mainly because you’re her great and then some uncle. After that, well, you really go into the party.”

***

At the party

After plans were made I decided it best to sate the host of the party by participating a little. I agree with Twilight when she said that Pinkie can be a bit eccentric. The instant I walked down the stairs she apologized for not listening to both Twilight and Spitfire about surprise parties and me. I told her that it was ok and that if she wanted to plan a party for me in the future, a non-surprise one, she was more than welcome to. That cheered her up a lot, and she sped away only to appear with a binder that said ‘Pinkie’s Super Party Planning Binder: Pinkie’s Eyes Only’ and in subtext ‘(That Means You Too, Author)’. Yeah, she really is random, though I bet I haven’t even scratched the bottom of the barrel.

There were games for the younger kids of the town, which honestly wasn’t all that surprising since apparently this was one of the ‘top ten places to start a family’, which was right next to ‘top ten places that weird things happen constantly’. I talked to each of Twilight’s friends, minus Pinkie since I already talked to her. Twilight was like she is portrayed in the show, adorkable. She’s intelligent headstrong and any guy she gets together with would be lucky. Rainbow Dash, while very cocky, would throw herself in front of a moving bus if it meant saving one of her friends. Considering that she was giving me a mixture of fangirlish rage and examining looks as though she were sizing me up for something; she kept trying to use her feminine charm, which let’s be honest was more tomboyish, to get information out of me. If I were a betting man I’d say she was straight based on how she talked to me and several other guys at the party.

Fluttershy was, in fact, very shy. As I tried to talk to her for the first time I couldn’t really hear her introduce herself, mainly because of the dubstep-like music playing in the background. Also I could tell that she was shooting glances at the eldest Apple sibling, whom she would look away from every time they met each other’s gaze. In the ten minutes I spoke with her I could tell that the Elements chose well as she fit Kindness to a T. Rarity was a bit of an enigma, she liked high society and culture but not the snootiness that came with it. How you can manage those two without them intersecting is a feat altogether. She was generous enough to say that if I needed a tuxedo or suit in the future she would make one for free since she really doesn’t get many male customers; I might just take her up on that. Applejack based on the strength of the handshake she gave me, and the callouses on them, I could tell that she worked hard for a living. She had the whole southern accent and hospitality as well, offering drinks and food until my belt was ready to go ballistic and rip through a wall. In the short time I talked with her I could tell that she was kind, and could compete with Fluttershy for the Element of Kindness, I couldn’t really tell how truthful she was, but then again this was just a casual conversation.

I spent the rest of the time talking to some of the other citizens of the town. There was a dentist who ran a practice all on her own, good for her. There was the one named Ditzy Doo, oddly enough the cousin of Daring Doo, and her daughter who loved to bake muffins and sell them as much as they liked eating them. Apparently she is married to some kind of Doctor, she never did really say what he practiced. There was this nice redhead who was a florist, maybe I’ll stop over there later tomorrow and get some flowers for Spits. There was also that DJ, apparently she was hired out of Manehatten and does parties as well as hosting a nightclub a few times a week. There was the school teacher that taught both primary and secondary in town since it was a smaller town in comparison to some of the larger towns and cities.

“Hey, you!” I turned around from talking to Cheerilee to see a trio of middle school aged children. “What’s your special talent?” the purple-haired Angel asked.

“Come again?” I asked.

“You heard me, what’s your cutie mark?”

I paused for a moment, realizing who these three were. “I don’t have one,” I replied nonchalantly.

The trio gasped as if their entire belief system had been shaken. “How can you naught have yers?” the redheaded girl named Applebloom asked.

“Maybe because I’m a Jack of all Trades,” I replied with a smirk, which got me nowhere. “Because I feel I can be whatever I want to be and not letting some icon that displays my talent for everyone to see tell me what I should do with my life, but that’s just me,” I finished before taking a drink of the hard cider Applejack brought for the adults at the party.

“Well if you don’t have yours, what hope is there that we’ll get ours?” the cotton candy haired Mage asked.

“Just do things that you want to do, it’ll show up eventually.”

“What’s with the ones and zeroes on yer arm?” Applebloom asked.

“Oh, so you noticed that?” I asked. They nodded in return. “It’s a series of dates to remember in binary.”

“Binary?” Scootaloo asked.

“It’s a numbering system consisting of only zeroes and ones. Of course there’s base eight known as octo, and base sixteen known as hexadecimal but that’s a different story. Each place is a factor of two. So 01 is one, 10 is two, 11 is three, and so on and so forth.”

“So the first one, 100 1101 1010000 would be,” Applebloom paused for a moment. “Four, thirteen, eighty.”

“My mother’s birthday,” I replied. “You’re pretty sharp, kid. Not many your age can do other number bases without a sheet of paper.”

“Ah have mah brother to thank fer that, he’s the family accountant,” she replied proudly.

After a few more hours the children were sent home and the adults remained. Everything was civil, until someone decided to bring up a drinking game. It might have been me but I will neither confirm nor deny that. I did however provide the content: Archer. After that everything became a blur.

***

Present time

“Ok so what did happen after that?” I asked while getting dressed in my fresh clothes.

“I stopped paying attention and you disappeared. Next thing I knew you were walking out of the Everfree drunk as could be. After that we had drunken sex and just passed out here in our hotel room. Next thing I know I’m waking up with you being a sixteen year old teenage girl. What’s with the color inverse?” Spits asked.

“No clue. What do we do now?”

“Well we could ask Twilight what could cause this.”

“She is the town’s smartest person, and resident Princess. Why not?” And with that we left the hotel and headed over to ‘Magic Castle’. Last time I checked it didn’t have an official name, well yet at least. I mean Celestia and Luna’s castle is called ‘Canterlot castle’ and Cadence’s is called ‘The Crystal Palace’, so I bet it’ll get a name soon. Probably the ‘Palace of Friendship’ or something like that, but I digress.

As we walked up to the main entrance of the castle we were stopped by a guard. “Halt! What is your business with the Princess?” he asked authoritatively.

“We would like to see her to investigate how my husband,” Spits trailed while the guard just raised an eyebrow. “Just… run with it for now. Ended up like this.”

He looked at me, just staring. “Take a photo, it’ll last longer,” I said, snapping him out of his daze.

“My apologies ma’am,” he said while I internally scowled at being called ‘ma’am’.

“If you could, could you let her highness know that this is a personal matter to be discussed in private?” Spitfire asked. Good call too since if a certain douche prince caught wind of this, he’d make my life hell just by annoying me. Thank God I’m not related to that assnugget by blood as I would find whoever sired him, figure out how to travel back in time, travel back in time, kick his father in the groin the night he was supposed to be conceived, and come back home in time for dinner. Or something like that.

“Of course, Lady Spitfire,” the guard replied. Apparently since I’m blood related to Cadence that makes me and my immediate family a minor noble, not that I care about status or anything. However I do plan on wearing the most casual clothing I can and get into the fanciest restaurants that cater to the uppity nobles and look like I really don’t give a flying fuck. Side note, introduce the Flying Fuck flying remote control helicopter to the markets. The guard walked inside and came out a moment later. “The Princess is currently with another, however she has been made aware of your request and has invited you to wait in her personal library. If you would please follow my fellow guard,” he said gesturing to the Mage guard now standing in the doorway.

He lead us to the library that we met in the previous night and once we stepped inside he closed the door. I started to go over the books again like I did the other night. This time one caught my eye, it was called ‘Equestrian Marriage Rituals Through the Ages’ by a woman named Poetic Haiku. I sat down in one of the chairs in the library and began to read.

“Mating rituals have been around ever since the beginning of time when a male starting courting the female of their species. In the past two or so thousand years it was common for the courting man to offer the bride’s father a dowry as a way to prove the he could provide for her. These ranged from chickens to a whole city in the case of one warlord in Griffon country. This tradition followed until around two hundred years ago. Marriages usually consists as one female to a male, however in the past it would be considered uncommon NOT to see harems of women or multiple women married to a single man due to the harsh conditions and low survival rate of the pre-Equestrian continent across the sea.
This continued up until the Sisters came to power a little over a thousand years ago. After that there were what we consider now as ‘traditional marriage’ of one man and one woman, however there were also those of the same sexes coming together as pairs. Most times they were overlooked and not discriminated against (unlike other cultures, see page 372 for more) as the population ratio of males to females in all three races was about equal. However as of recent due to a decline in males being born of a ratio of one male to three females a law was created and passed that allowed a man to have up to three wives; gay couples could still be together as well as lesbians, however there were regulations that they needed to abide by in order to keep those marriages.
For the multiple marriages, in order for them to be allowed everyone in the current relationship has to agree that the new ‘addition’ will be of a benefit to the group rather than a hindrance. If the current members of the relationship come to an agreement that the ‘applicant’ would be a hindrance to the group then life would go on as it had before for the group. Traditional marriage is still available and isn’t repressed nor are multiple marriages encouraged.
For lesbian couples it is not uncommon for them to be surrogate mothers for gay couples looking to have children or infertile heterosexual couples unable to have children for various reasons. There are no rules or regulations for lesbian couples, however the Crown suggests to not use these marriages for anything other than love.
Gay couples have a stipulation that they provide their ‘genetic material’ to sperm banks twice a year so that lesbian couples may have children or males that have infertility issues may still have children with their wife/wives.
The goal of the laws put into place by the Royal Sisters is that all may be happy with their lives and sexuality no matter what gender they identify themselves as.

“I’m sorry, that took longer than I expected,” Twilight said as she entered her personal library. “What seems to be the… problem…?” she trailed as she looked over to me. “Spitfire, who is this young lady, and why does she have a striking resemblance to your husband?”

“That’s probably because I AM her husband,” I flatly replied.

“But… but… how?”

“That’s what we were hoping that you would be able to tell us,” Spitfire replied.

“Well let’s start on what we know,” Twilight said as she started to pace to collect her thoughts. “You left your welcome party last night and you were still male. As far as I am aware, no one slipped anything in anyone’s drinks nor was any gender manipulating magic cast, as my wards and guards would have detected them inside the premises of the castle. Which would mean the cause of your… transformation would have occurred between the time you left and the time you arrived at your hotel.”

“That’s the thing though, we don’t know what happened. We were both blackout drunk. All we really remember is exiting the party and once we arrived at our hotel we got intimate,” I stated.

Twilight thought for a second before rushing over to her private bookshelves. “I used a spell a few years ago when Discord returned and put my friends under a hypnotic spell that forced them to exhibit the opposite traits that made them the hosts of the Elements of Harmony. I was thinking on using that spell, but that particular one required me to have the same or similar memory to bring back the suppressed ones.”

“But you weren’t with us last night when we left,” Spitfire commented.

“Exactly. Hopefully by using the spell I used as a cross-reference I can find a similar one that will bring a memory that is being suppressed by the conscious mind out of her… his subconscious memory. We see many things every day, many of them we list as non-important so we forget about them or push them to the backs of our minds. Using this theory, and finding an appropriate spell, we might be able to bring back the memories from last night and use the visual clues to piece together what caused this change to happen.”

And so the search for the great memory spell began. With the help of Twilight’s assistant Spike we were able to locate several books that contained spells that affected the mind in one way, shape, or form. We were left alone with Spike as Twilight had to go back and deal with several waiting petitioners for her time. After about an hour of searching Spike found the spell that we were looking for and left to go get Twilight.

They returned a few minutes later with Twilight reading the book as she walked, using telekinetic magic no less. That gives me some ideas on how to multitask while using both hands. “So it looks as though that this spell is in fact a variant of the spell that I used on my friends during the first Discord situation. What it does is make a memory that is being focused on more vivid therefore allowing muddled memories to become clear,” Twilight stated.

“Just an idea, but can that spell bring back Andrew’s missing memories?” Spitfire asked hopefully.

“Unfortunately, no. This requires the one that’s being casted on to focus on the memory that they want to remember more clearly. Like for example here, where we are trying to find out one specific event that swapped Andrew’s gender to… Andrea.”

“So if we wanted him to remember everything that happened…?”

“He would need to have a sliver of a memory first from the time that’s missing in order for this specific spell to work. I’m sorry,” Twilight said sincerely.

“That’s ok, I was just getting my hopes up.”

“It’s ok if I don’t remember anything,” I said nonchalantly.

“What do you mean?” Spitfire asked with shock displayed.

“Well you already told me what happened. I hearing about the other ‘me’ is like listening to an audiobook. I know what happened, but to be honest I don’t want to remember the painful experiences first hand to be honest. By what I read from my charts in the hospital the injuries looked painful to obtain. I don’t want to seem harsh or insensitive, but I know what happened from the time that we met up until I woke up, to be honest that’s all I need.”

“That’s sweet. I think,” Twilight commented. “I assume that you wish to attempt the spell now?” We both nodded. “Alright then, one moment.” She leaned out into the hallway, “Warding Anvil? Please let those still in the throne room know that I will resume audiences with me after lunch. Thank you.” She then conjured up a seat like you would see in a stereotypical shrink’s office. “Please lay down and close your eyes,” she said and I obeyed. “Now what I want you to do is focus on last night, specifically the events that occurred after you left my home. Do you have it?” I nodded. “Good. Now I’m going to activate the spell.” All at one I felt a warm flowing sensation on my forehead, like someone put a hot towel on it. “Now what I want you to do is walk us through verbally of the events.”

In front of my eyes appeared a nightscape of Ponyville. “Ok, we just left the party. We’re walking down the road. I’m pretty much tripping over myself from intoxication. Now we’re walking down Mane street. I stumble and fall into a flower box and I sneeze when I inhale some of the pollen,” I say.

“Wait. Did you say flower box?” Twilight asked worriedly.

“Yes.”

“What color are they?”

“Blue I think. With yellow… whatever they’re called in the center that makes pollen.”

“The anther?”

“Yeah, that,” I answered. “I got up and we walked for a little while longer before reaching the inn and we called it a night.”

I opened my eyes to see Twilight’s face deep into a botany book. “It is as I suspected. Poison Joke,” she said.

“You mean the flower that does something different to each individual person that it’s exposed to?”

“The same,” Twilight answered as she closed the book and set it on her lap. “You see there’s around an eight hour period where the changes take place on the person exposed, making you think that Poison Joke is like any ordinary flower. It waits until you’re in your sleep cycle before acting and once you wake up you see the changes that it made. In the past the ‘pranks’ played by the plant have usually been small like Pinkie’s temporary lisp or Rarity’s uncontrollable hair.”

“Or Rainbow Dash’s hand-eye coordination or sense of balance being off,” Spitfire added.

“Exactly. This is the first instance that I know of where there has been a full body transformation.”

“So what do we do?” I ask. “Can’t we just use some of that remedy that’s being sold by the spa girls?”

“If this were a small change I would say yes, however as this is a complete body change I have no idea if there’ll be unbearable pain or damage to your psyche as you were flooded with testosterone for years and have now been exposed to estrogen. The immediate change that’s caused by the cure could possibly do damage that might be irreversible.”

“So I’m stuck like this forever then?” I asked deflated.

“I would say that. There is one person that is the expert on all things Everfree and anything that involves natural remedies or odd magics; and she just so happens to be in town today for her herbal restock for the month.”

***

The three of us walked down to Sugarcube Corner where we were meeting up with this contact of hers of whom I have a sneaking suspicion of who it is. Twilight sent Spike ahead to find her at the market and to meet us here in one of the party rooms originally suggested by Pinkie for when people want to have a private party and not disrupt the business that the Cakes run.

“So uh Twilight, this friend of yours. What’s she like?” I ask.

“She can be a bit odd because of where she was born and raised. She tends to talk in rhymes, however she’s been trying to sort of break out of that as of late. Certain words just can’t be rhymed with,” Twilight responded.

We walked into the famous sweet stand. There were a few people that pretty much groveled in front of their resident princess, much to her embarrassment. Being courteous we passed by them and entered the private party room where Spike and a mohawk hair styled, dark skinned, Earthborn with tribal tattoos were waiting for us.

“Twilight my friend, it is good to see you again,” she said in a sing-song way.

“Zecora, it is good to see you too. I’m glad that you were able to meet with us on such short notice,” Twilight responded with a respectful bow that Zecora returned.

“Indeed, I am always ready to assist a friend in need,” Zecora replied.

So she does rhyme. “Zecora, did Spike tell you why we needed to meet today?”

“He did not, it must have slipped from his thoughts.”

Twilight gestured to me with her hand. “This woman behind me was exposed to Poison Joke, and I need your advice.”

Zecora raised an eyebrow, “I don’t see why you would need my assistance, doesn’t the spa down the street have the treatment you seek?”

“There’s one issue with that.”

“I wasn’t a woman eight hours ago,” I interrupted.

Zecora sat silently, contemplating what to do. “I see,” she replied before pausing again. “Is it a full body transformation?”

I nodded, “Even the ‘equipment’ has been swapped too.”

“I see.”

“Well how long does it take for someone to naturally return to whatever they were before after being exposed?”

“I know not,” Zecora replied sadly.

“Well could we check medical files? I mean the town hospital has to have some sort of record of Poison Joke exposure,” Spitfire asked.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Twilight answered. “The only people that have been exposed to Poison Joke after Zecora gave the antidote to the spa were healed within twenty-four hours after exposure. Before then, no one other than Zecora regularly traveled through the Everfree Forest, and even then she knows to stay away from the flower in question. Everyone else regularly avoided the forest as its nature is uncontrollable and there are no towns on the other side of it.” She tapped her chin in thought, “Both Princess Celestia and Luna lived there for years before their spat.”

“And by ‘spat’ you mean the whole ‘Nightmare Moon’ incident?” I asked with a raised eyebrow and air quotes to match.

“The same. Perhaps one of them know and would be able to give us some insight. Spike? Take a letter,” she said before dictating. “Ahem, ‘Dear Princess Celestia and/or Luna, depending on who can help with my dilemma’.” She then summarized our current issue and if they ran into any unfortunate victims of the flower back when they ruled inside of the Everfree castle and how they were cured. “‘I would appreciate any assistance you can provide. Sincerely, Your fellow Princess, Twilight Sparkle’.” She then glanced over the letter to make sure she didn’t leave anything out and let Spike send it via dragon fire.

“And now we play the waiting game,” I commented out loud, originally intending for it to be a thought. If there’s one thing that annoys the hell out of Spitfire, it’s the thing I do when I get bored: I drum my fingers on the table to some tune that is currently stuck in my head. Today’s song of choice? I am Machine by Three Days Grace. If I was actually looking at her I would be seeing her eye twitch.

“ANDREW FOR CELESTIA’S SAKE, KNOCK THAT OFF!” she yelled after finally snapping.

“Sorry, sweetheart. You know how I get when I’m bored, especially in a stressful situation,” I replied as my hands remained idle yet quiet.

A few minutes passed before a wafting puff of green smoke materialized on the table as a letter. “Well that was quick,” Spitfire commented.

“Well she usually is pretty quick when writing her letters, especially when I ask for help on something,” Twilight responded as she opened the letter. “Here we go. ‘Dear Twilight Sparkle. I spoke with my sister and we have indeed heard of such an event. Three years before Luna’s banishment she and I had a particularly heated prank war. One of the pranks that Luna retaliated with involved putting powdered Poison Joke inside of my wine glass during dinner one night. She didn’t notice that I switched the drinks after I saw her pour it in when I had my head “turned”. The next morning’s results were hilarious, she had a full body transformation in which she had not only shrunk down to the size she was at age eight but also had her gender switched. It was interesting having a little brother for a month, which was before Luna then blew Poison Joke pollen in my face and I too was affected by it. We searched for a cure for exposure to this magic influencing flower. The antidote which is found in “Super Naturals” is what our Master Botanist and Royal Doctor came up with.

“‘It was able to be given to me almost immediately as the changes that I was afflicted with were primarily cosmetic, with a secondary being that I had a swelled head. Luna though had to have hers administered as a medicinal liquid as she went to sleep so that the gender specific changes happened well after she entered what we now call REM sleep. She was better the next morning and we both swore that we would never use that flower in our prank wars again. I have included on the back of this letter the formula for the orally administered antidote. I hope “Andrea”-’” I groaned at that. “‘-will feel better soon. Your fellow Princess, Celestia’,” Twilight finished and then turned the piece of paper over, reading it. “Well this seems simple enough. With Zecora’s help I should have this done by the time you go to bed tonight.”

Zecora took the paper from Twilight’s hands. “Indeed, this looks to be a simple adjustment. But three of these ingredients are found in town, the rest are at my home,” she replied.

“Go and grab what you need. I’ll have Spike fetch the rest of the items on the list.” Spike had a slight frown as it seemed like he had other plans for the day. “We’ll meet at my house and complete the potion there.”

I cleared my throat. “I’m sure that Spitfire and I could go and get the things on the list from the shops in town,” I stated.

“Are you sure? You’re in an unfamiliar body and all,” Twilight asked with concern.

“It’s only three items in three different shops. So I’m a girl for a day. What’s the worst that could happen?” I asked with a shrug. It was then I realized what I just said. “And now something’s going to happen,” I muttered.

“Well then since you insist.” Twilight then floated over the list.

I took the list before it hit the ground and took a look at it. ‘One gallon of pure spring water, twelve rose blooms, and one pound of pure cane sugar.’ I raised an eyebrow, “Ok I can see the water and the sugar, but what’s with the roses?” I asked.

“I honestly have no idea, it’s best just to follow the formula.”

“Yes, it’s better not to mess with it. We don’t want parts ending up where they shouldn’t,” Spitfire added. With that Twilight teleported Spike and herself away and Zecora left a moment later after gathering her bag. Spitfire started to look me over with a mischievous glint in her eye, which started to give me chills.

“Spits, what are you thinking?” I asked nervously.

“Oh nothing, just that you’re now younger than me and that you’re like a little sister. There’s always been one thing that I’ve wanted to do with a sister: shopping!”

“God, have mercy on my-,” was all I was able to get out before I was yanked out the door by a smiling Spitfire, who for the day considered me a sister. Someone, shoot me now.

Author's Note

I apologize if I insinuated in the previous chapter that Rainbow was a lesbian in any way, just remember that Andrew as a character had not met her and only had assumptions to work off of; and remember that assuming makes an ass out of you and me.
Also I apologize if anyone was insulted by Andrew’s initial reaction to Pinkie, seriously though. Someone could mistake her for a crack addict by accident if they didn’t know her.
I do believe that if they found a more honest person than Applejack then she would be in the running against Fluttershy for being the Element of Kindness, but that’s just me.
So Andrew meets the town, along with characters from the fandom that might show up later in the story.
Before you get the pitchforks and torches allow me to explain why I don’t have Zecora speaking in rhymes, it’s mainly because I can’t write poetry for shit. Seriously. So convenient plot device is convenient.

The next chapter is going to be mostly filler and some comedic relief. It's not going to be very serious at all before we get back into the more serious stuff. I hinted at some of this stuff with another user, but the rest of you will just have to wait and see what I have in store. Classes start again on MLK Jr. Day for me so again the story will be taking a seat on my back burner while I attempt to pass these classes. Sorry if there's any major delays ahead of time. Depending on the length of the next chapter it may be out as soon as Monday or out later in a month, it all depends on how busy I am.

Also note that I'm working on a side project, well it's mostly in the planning phase right now, on a short crossover of Stargate: Atlantis and MLP as well as a story over on FanFiction. Again these are just in the planning phases so there's nothing out quite yet on those. The former will maybe be around three chapters, maybe even just a oneshot. The latter will be of a length that could be as long as this story has been so far. So stay tuned and I'll post updates when I get to them as this is my primary story until completion.

I would like to believe that I caught all my errors. If I didn't, you know where to find me.