Undercover Dates

     Once Soarin got far enough away from Spitfire and Blaze, he took flight to another windmill. Unlike the other ones on the putting grounds, this one was old and rusted with a strong scent of burnt tires. He crawled in the small 3 foot hole into the hollowed space inside.

    His bags, some saddlebags and a duffle bag, were stationed within. He reached out to his light blue saddlebags and lifted the flap. His hooves circled around the inside of it, searching for his rectangular device. Once he retrieved it from the confines of the bag, he clicked a button and the screen blinked to life. He dug around in the saddlebag once more, looking for the long, thin rod used to operate the black device laying before him. He found it and took it in his mouth. He began to type numbers in a specific sequence. When he finished, Soarin spat out the stylus onto the ground. A familiar repeating tone was heard coming from the device. The sound halted, and was replaced by a voice.

     "Hello?"

     "Hey Dashie. I just accused Spitfire's sister of being a serial killer."

     "What did I tell you about calling me that? And also, what in your imbecilic mind compelled you to do that?!"

     "Meh, I just did. Anyhow, since everything here is as awful as possible at the moment, why don't we make it a bit better by making this a date night tonight?" Soarin was hopeful that she would agree with him. He has already had to have her deal with a bounce of random, possible serial killers, on a date. He silently prayed that she don't have another date with one tonight.

     "Ooh, Soarin, I can't do that." Rainbow became giddy. "Cause I got a date with Mr. Perfect!" She sang.

Fuck

     "You sound excited."

     "Hell yeah! Um, as a detective. For the break. I really need you in my ear for surveillance. I can't do this without you."

     Soarin struggled to find a response.

      "I-"

     "Soarin, you need to find something way to be ok with this."

     "Do you have any idea what I've been through?! My marefriend seems to have a new coltfriend. My best friend has a new coltfriend. My mom bought me a hat..." Soarin took a depressing tone. "Look, I just need-- I need somepony to talk to here."

    "Soarin, I'm sorry, and I really would go on a date with you right now, but we are really busy right now."

     Soarin sighed and hung up. Rainbow had been continuously going on dates with possible killers. How could he not be worried. Not to mention incredibly stressed out.

I need to go... somewhere....

     "Mom! Dad!"

     Soarin climbed up the stairs of his current residence. The wooden steps creaked with each step he took. The area was very dim. There were no windows to let light in, so it was slightly chilly within the space. The walls were about two feet away from him on each side, and he stepped up comfortably on the soft carpet beneath his hooves.

     "I think I could use a little chat."

     Soarin reached the top of the staircase. He banged his hoof on the door.

     "Mom! Ugh, look Dad--"

     In the room, Soarin saw a horrible sight. A pale blue stallion, Ice Storm, and a aquamarine mare with a purple mane, Glide, were enjoying some, activities, in the bed. The both gasped in horror when they saw their son open the door. For Soarin, everything else happened in slow motion.

     "Nnnnoooooo!!!!" Soarin shock his head side to side and raised his hooves.

     "Sssooooaaarrrrr-SSSSSoooooaaaaarrrrr!!!!"

     He slammed the door behind him.

     "Fly Milky. Fly high. Into the clouds."

     Soarin was laying on his bed. The covers still bore the faces is past Wonderbolts from when he was seven. He held a pillow to his chest. His eyes where wide and his pupils were the size of pinpricks.

     "I want you to feel like you can ask me anything."

     His father sat it the door of the bed. Ice Storm was facing away from him. He held both hooves together and looked at the various figurines on the shelves.

    "There are no silly, stupid questions."

    "Please, stop making sounds with your mouth." Soarin pleaded.

     "It all happened very organically. I still can't fully process it  myself. Maybe it went out of our history or.... maybe a new outlook on life. Post the bullet ripping through my chest."

    Soarin continued looking at the wall. Ice Storm, much to his displeasure, continued speaking.

     "Plus, your mother is a very attractive mare."

     Soarin immediately shoved his hooves in his ears. He scrunched his face to the point that he looked like he was constipated.

    "And I'm a stallion. With needs."

    "Ugh!" Soarin rolled over on the bed. He now faced the cream hued ceiling. "Dad? When I was a little colt..."

     "Good, good. Keep going." Storm urged, still not looking as the pegasus behind him.

     "I had a reoccurring nightmare that aliens abducted me. And they did experiments an my brain. Where are those aliens now?!"

     "Soarin, look-"

     "Please take me away..." he raised his hooves towards the ceiling. He flopped them down back onto his stomach after a few seconds.

     "I don't know anything about aliens, but I do know that lovemaking is a beautiful thing. It's a product of a loving relationship."

     Soarin was disinterested about what Ice Storm was speaking of. He turned his head over to the right. On his nightstand, a stack of recent fashion catalogs were piled up. On two of them, there was a snapshot of a familiar colt. He grasped the papers and held it to his face. His eyes widened as he realized what this ment.

     "Holy crap." He dragged himself out of the bed and sat down by his father.

     "Dad, look at this guy."

     "Woah, woah, Soarin. Oh don't think I'm ready for this conversation." He was obviously taking the wrong meaning of his son's words.

     "No, look, it's the same guy. It's the same stallion." Soarin rose and walked over to the old, boxy computer. He turned it on and went to the "lookingforlove.com" website. He searched the name that came to mind and pulled up his profile. On it was a navy blue colt with maroon hair.

     "These pictures were taken straight from the catalog and photoshopped with different backgrounds." He explained. Like this one with him wear in the ski gear. It was shot in a studio of some sort right? Well, look at this." He pulled up a picture of the same colt. One had a plain white background, the other had snow covered trees.

     "Soarin, how long have you been obsessed with this guy?"

    /"Dad, I gotta go. This talk of ours will have to wait until after we're dead." Soarin patted Ice Storm's back with a hoof. "Even then, the dead me is not going to have any questions for the dead you. Cause it wasn't organic." He started trotting to the corridors that lead away from his room. Once he was halfway down the hall, he began to shout. "AND YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT LOVEMAKING!"

     "Thanks for joining the case buddy." Spitfire slowed the blue vehicle to an abrupt halt.

     "No problemo."

     Soarin and Spitfire were sitting comfortably in a small car. This was the usual car that they used for all of their little missions. They even had a name for it, the Blueberry. The inside of the Blueberry was mostly a gray hue, excluding the black dashboard and seat designs.

     "And I'm sorry for accusing your sister of murder. Like a whole Bride of Chucky thing."

     "It's cool. I know what it's like to be lonely and single."

     "Hate to burst your bubble, but I'm not single, Spitty. And that was you as of yesterday."

     "Oh Soarin, you don't seem to have a lot of space in that tiny brain of yours. You want to try shoving a flash drive in your ear again?"

     "As much as I really want to smack you, I'm sorry. Maybe it's because I walked in on my divorced parents having sex."

     Spitfire made a face of disgust. She shook her head side to side, trying to clear the image from her head.

      "Then my dad set me down and told me that my body is a wonderland."

     "Are you sure that what you saw? Please tell me that you didn't see that."

     "Yes, I'm 100% positive." Soarin whispered as the memory resurfaced. "What about you?"

     "What?"

     "Did you ever walk in on your parents?"

     "My parents never had sex, Soarin." Spitfire insisted.

    "Of course they did."

     "Nope, didn't happen. Your looking at one of Celestia's perfect little miracles." She turned to him and did the best innocent skill she could muster.

     "Oh yeah? Than explain Blaze." Soarin countered.

     "I'm still not sure that she wasn't adopted."

     "Were is she by the way?"

     "I don't know! Soarin,, why are we sitting in front if some dudes house?"

     "Because it isn't just 'some dude', Spitty. He is Mr. Possibilities." Soarin pulled a pair of binoculars from the glove box. He took the caps of the lenses. Before he could pick of the binoculars of his lap, they fell onto the floorboard.

     "Crap." He reached down to grab them. In the process, he banged his head on the dashboard. He winced bat the impact and grasped the fallen object. After he sat up again, her rubbed what would soon be a bruise on his head. With a sigh, he Soarin continued his speech.

     "Mr. Possibilities isn't who he says he is. His real name is Wooden Chest and he fabricated an entire profile to try to make the perfect single stallion living here."

     "Why would he do that?" Spitfire asked as Soarin passed the binoculars to her. She gazed throughout the lines and saw a brown stallion eating lunch with a yellow mare.

     "Because he is already married. Rapidfire confirmed that he has a record. And he is the only one left of the original six."

     "I would never cheat on Haze. I can't imagine not having him in my life now."

     "Seriously? Just think back to yesterday at 6:00 p.m. Come on, we have a marriage to destroy.

     "My husband is having an affair?" A yellow coated mare with red and white hair stood before them. She looked doubtful at them. To her, this was some kind of joke, a prank.

     Her house was a beige color with a white spiral staircase. The steps were covered in a tan carpet, while the living room and kitchen were hardwood floors.

     "If only it was that simple Mint." Soarin replied. Spitfire stood a few feet away with her eyebrows raised.

     There were hoofsteps coming from the staircase. The brown colt from earlier was coming down them. When he reached the bottom, he faced his spouse.

     "I'm just coming down for-- What's going on? Who are these guys?"

     "Soarin, Detective. This is my partner.... Apple... Nuts."

     "What?" 'Apple Nuts' said.

     "We are both not married. Although she has a new coltfriend, and my marefriend is currently seeing other ponies. But for professional reasons-- She is a pro."

     "You have a profile on a dating website?!" Mint yelled, ignoring Soarin's babbling.

     "Go ahead Chest, tell her. You used online dating to live your single days again. Tell her how you created this 'Mr. Possibilities' profile and started living a double life." Soarin held up a tablet. On it was the profile he was speaking of.

     "Chest?!" His wife provoked him to answer.

     "The one thing you didn't count on was those two young mares. Figuring you out and threatening to turn you into your wife. Isn't that right Spitty?"

     "I'm hearing this stuff for the first time." She looked around their living room. Sporting a bowl of candy, she walked over to it and shoved some pieces into her mane.

     "You had no choice but to get rid of them. The old fashioned way. Ppppsssshhhhkkkk." He continued making "choking" sounds. He vividly pictured what would have happened in his head. The mares were being checked while her stood in front of them, pressing the mare into the tree. It flashed constantly between different angles. Then his reoccurring memory of the horrific event that played out at his parents house was picture once more. Still in slow motion. He snapped out of his flashback.

      "Who is Soar-Soar?!" Mint demanded.

     "I don't know! I would never use those pictures to get dates." Wooden Chest said to his enraged wife.

     "How could you do this to us?!" Mint pointed at a family portrait hanging about above their stone fireplace.

     "Yeah, how could you? Look at that pugs face. Look at it! Shame on you. Shame on you. You recently did something office related huh. Didn't ya?"

     "I-I went out with my Secretary for lunch once, just once."

     "Did you order dessert? Soarin asked.

     "Did you order dessert?!"

     "Yeah, maybe, I don't know! What-- What does this matter?!"

     "I'll tell you what I'm going to do, Jack. I'm gonna call a car to come arrest you." Soarin reached into it tucked right wing. He nosed around until he pulled out the black, rectangular device that he used earlier today. He grabbed the stylus next and typed in more numbers. The phone dialed it and it was answered.

     "Hey Lightning, I need one paddy wagon, one patty melt, some yellow crime scene tape, and two cinnamon rolls. I want it delivered to the following address,"

     Soarin walked out their back door. He was speaking on the phone with Rainbow Dash.

     "So this whole thing is off?" She questioned.

     "I got good news and better news. Good news is that you don't have to go on that date with Mr. Perfect cause he's married."

     "Married?" Rainbow said in disbelief, and a little disappointment too.

     "That was the good news."

     Rapidfire, who was listening in on the call from his car, decided to cut in.

     "I'm sorry Detective Dash."

     "Why is everyone so sorry? I busted this dude by figuring out that he murdered those mares when they discovered his dirty little scam."

      "Did he look as good as he did in the pictures?"

     Soarin turned to his left. Wooden Chest was sitting cuffed in a squad car's backseat. He was yelling at his wife. "Honey. Please!"

      "Yeah I guess so... Hello?"

     Rapidfire and Dash were now conversing with each other.

      "Its a tough break, Dash, but ill tell you something. I will go snatch this guy up and book him. Why don't you go watch a couple episodes of Sex in the City at home and shake this whole thing off."

      "What is she shaking off exactly?"

     Both Rainbow Dash and Rapidfire hung up.

     "Hello?"

     Soarin hung up his phone. As soon as he did, it rang again.

     "Hello my dear. You know what I think will make you feel better is if you go home tonight, dress up into your Prism outfit, and do a little dance to pour sugar on me."

     "It isn't Dash, but I'd be willing to wear what I'm wearing now and drop it like it's hot."

     "Fields?"

     "You wanted to know if there was any activity on Mr. Perfect's account."

     "I don't need that anymore because Mr. Possibilities, aka Mr. Perfect, has been busted."

     "Well then I don't know how you explain this. He just sent an email ten minutes ago."

     "Huh, unless he used his teeth or hit the keys with his nose while hoofcuffed, that's not possible."

     "Unless the guy you have in cuffs isn't Mr. Possibilities."

     Soarin looked back at the stallion in the squad car.

     "Hmm."

     He hung up the phone and placed is back under folded wing.

Please tell me that I didn't fuck this up.

    Rainbow Dash stood on a bridge overlooking a shallow river. She dug out the mike that was fastened on her jacket. She looked it over several times and sighed. Not wanting to continue looking at it, she threw it in the river below her. Rainbow turned around.

I'm just gonna go home. I need some sleep anyway.

     She looked up and recognised a colt hovering in front of her. She gasped.

     "Burning Light?!"

    He cocked his head to the side with a wide smile.

    "Hello, Prism."