Vinyl stared blankly at the side of the building, unimpressed. The corners of her lips fell, and she tapped the side of her glasses to peer at it with her own eyes.
The small shop was wedged in between two much larger and more impressive looking restaurants. Two tiny round tables were positioned just outside in the little room they had, and two dreary looking stallions were uncomfortably perched on the stools over steaming mugs. A single sign adorned the wall above the dark window, written in flowing white paint, browned over time. It read: 'Longshot's Coffee Shop'
"Seriously, 'Tavi? This the best you got?" she asked her friend. Octavia, whilst hardly an energetic pony at the best of times, was positively vibrant compared to the atmosphere in this place. The earth pony glanced over at Vinyl, unamused.
"Come on, Vinyl. I've gone to each and every one of your bars, and frankly they're all the same. Longshots is a place with character, at least. Just give it a chance, will you?"
Vinyl grunted. "You never complained about my places before. Why do we have to go here?" she asked.
"Well," Octavia explained, "For starters, we have the entire afternoon off, and it's far too early to be drinking. And the coffee here is to die for," she finished with a smirk. "Not to mention, I have free drinks here for life."
Vinyl couldn't stop Octavia from marching forwards, squeezing past the two stallions at their table. She sighed, and trotted after her like an abandoned filly trying to keep up with her parent. Octavia's massive cello case almost knocked over more than a few customers, but between her careful movements and the other ponies moving out of the way, somehow they made it to the counter without causing a scene.
The place was exactly as Vinyl had expected, minus the smell. It was boring wooden floorboards, old wooden chairs, unpadded (even the cheaper bars she visited had some cushions at least...), and dim lights that cast an orange pall on the room. The smell, on the other hand, was far more oppressive. It was mostly smoke and roasted coffee beans, steam and cigars. A slowly rotating fan that hung from the ceiling did little to disperse the fog created by the customers and boilers, and Vinyl almost coughed.
Octavia knocked on the counter, waking up an old mare who looked like she had been dragged across sandpaper, and a voice to match. Her eyes were beady, and they looked like they could see every little thing that transpired in the steamy shop, but her smile was genuine.
"My favourite customer," she said just loud enough to be heard over the sound of bubbling water. "Your usual?"
"No, I think I'll have a double shot 'longshot' cappuccino. I'm having a day."
The mare raised an eyebrow. "Ah... well then, that'll be done in a minute. This young lady is with you, I suppose?"
Vinyl looked over at Octavia.
"Yes, I'm with her."
"Then it's on the house... what can I get'cha?"
Vinyl peered through the haze at the blackboard behind the mare. The menu was written in shaky hoofwriting, but she could make out 'amareicano'... which is what she decided she wanted.
"I'll have the amareicano, thanks," she said. She found herself surprised by her own politeness: in bars, she would regularly say things like 'a pint of cider: on the double!', or 'two whiskeys, make them dry, on the rocks, and quick'. This gloomy room had her saying 'thanks'. It was unnatural.
"Right away."
Octavia smiled at Vinyl. "Old Lady Longshot does the best coffee in Lower Canterlot," she told Vinyl on a conversational tone. The old mare nodded, her face lighting up at the compliment.
"This ole' bodega's got a reputation to uphold, young lady."
Vinyl decided to take her word for it. It wasn't like she could tell the difference between good coffee and bad coffee anyway, after all. It was all black, bitter, and full of caffeine goodness, which was the bit that mattered. The only coffee she knew was awful was the instant stuff she poured into her mug each morning: it tasted like something out of an oil tank.
Octavia gestured at Vinyl to find a place to sit, which the young musician promptly attempted. It was more difficult that she felt it should have been: she couldn't see properly and the place was packed. Eventually she saw a small table in the corner that looked unoccupied. She trotted between ponies and tables towards her destination.
"Ugh... did they forget to put space in this room?" she asked under her breath as she pulled out a chair as best she could and hopped on, trying her best to make herself comfortable.
Octavia was along shortly with their drinks. Both mugs were larger than life and dark brown, making it hard to distinguish cup from coffee. Vinyl wrapped her hoof around hers, and quickly regretted her haste.
"Ouch!" she exclaimed, pulling her hoof away. "Hot!"
"Well, it is made with boiling water, you know," Octavia said with a chuckle. "Just relax, we have all afternoon."
Vinyl pouted. "Well, I'd rather get home sooner than later. This place is boring: it looks like time took one look at it and just moved on to the next restaurant."
Octavia shrugged.
"Maybe that's what makes it special."
"Pfft. I bet this place has never even seen a fight," Vinyl said derisively. "It's not that I'm a pony for violence or anything, but you know you've found a lively place when the barpony has a few war-stories to tell."
The cello case started leaning to the side a little, which Octavia quickly corrected before taking a long sip of her drink. That mare must have a mouth made of ceramic, Vinyl thought... her own drink was still too hot to even touch.
"This place has a few more stories than you might think, Vinyl. Speaking of war stories, Old Longshot behind the counter is actually a former soldier."
Vinyl looked over at the mare behind the counter, a little surprised.
"Huh. You couldn't tell just from looking."
"Well, it's true. The Zebrican Legion. Her daughter is also a soldier, I think," Octavia continued. "That pony over there is a guard, too. He's a detective: he regularly comes here to work on cases. Occasionally he asks the odd question to the pony next to him... he's really quite exciting."
Vinyl grumbled. She didn't like losing arguments, and she wasn't about to today.
"Well... whatever. That just means that exciting stuff happens to ponies outside the shop, which is totally normal. Nothing ever happens in here, is what I really mean."
Octavia shrugged.
"We don't get fisticuffs in here, that's for sure... but I was shot at once."
All of a sudden, Vinyl's attitude changed, and warning lights began flashing in her mind. "Uh... come again? You were shot at?"
Octavia nodded, her expression turning uncertain as Vinyl became increasingly aggitated.
"Well, only once."
"And you don't think that's a big deal?" Vinyl asked. She shook her head. "Why didn't you ever mention this before?"
"It was before we began working together. And anyway, it's not a big deal," Octavia replied, keeping her tone even. "He missed."
"I can tell! What is this, some kind of... gangster hideout?"
"With a former soldier as shop-owner and a detective as a regular? Not quite, Vinyl. He was just a street thug looking to get some money. He didn't know that most of the regulars here were just as armed and dangerous as he was."
"Just as armed..." Vinyl began, unable to properly process why this was no big deal to her friend. The atmosphere in this place had always been stifling, but now it felt downright oppressive. If everypony in here had a gun...
"It's Lower Canterlot. We can't all be from the upper class, Vinyl," Octavia said, doing her best to reason with her friend. "It's not as safe as up where we usually live."
"Why do you come down here all the time, then?" Vinyl asked. "For that matter, why did you bring me here?"
Octavia hesitated. Vinyl raised her eyebrows, waiting expectantly for a reply.
"Because... I get free coffee."
Vinyl had no adequate response to that. Octavia decided that if she was going to dig her own grave, it might as well be a deep hole.
"It's because I got shot at, see? Longshot told me I'd get free coffee for life for the inconvenience."
"Inconvenience?!"
Octavia gestured at Vinyl's drink. "It's probably cool enough to drink now," she said nonchalantly, as if changing the subject would make a difference.
"I could care less," Vinyl said. She rubbed her eyes, trying to sort things out in her head. "'Tavi... I'm not sure I like you coming down here if you're going to get shot at."
Octavia rolled her eyes. "This is why I didn't tell you. Look, I can handle myself, and this shop is one of the safest spots in Canterlot."
"Evidently, it isn't, though."
"I'm still alive, aren't I?"
"That's not the point, 'Tavi. I don't want you to not come back from Lower Canterlot... because you wanted free coffee."
Octavia leaned in over the table conspiratorially. "Yes, but Vinyl... free coffee."
She smiled. Vinyl did not.
"That's not funny."
"Oh, well aren't you just a little ray of sunshine today. What do you want me to do, not go to get a coffee because one bad thing happened one time? I got over it, and it's never happened again."
"I just don't want to see my friend get killed is all! What's so hard to get?"
"The logic."
Vinyl rolled her eyes. "Is this going to be a fight?"
"It might have to be. You take a risk when you cross the road every day, Vinyl. Just because you almost get hit once doesn't mean you can't cross the road again."
Vinyl nodded.
"Yeah, but some roads are safer to cross than others!"
"And some roads have delicious coffee shops on the other side of them."
Vinyl groaned and took a sip of her coffee. To her surprise, it was actually very nice, and she normally couldn't tell the difference. It tasted smokier, somehow. That could just be the overwhelming aroma of nicotine in the air, however.
"Okay, this is pretty nice," she admitted.
"I never would have imagined you were the cautious type, Vinyl. You were the one who said she liked a bar that had a few fights now and then."
Vinyl shrugged.
"Well, fights is one thing, guns is another. Guns and ponies don't mix, in my opinion."
Octavia smiled. "Longshot would disagree, I reckon."
Once again, Vinyl found her gaze being drawn to the old lady behind the bar. "Seriously? Her? She looks like my grandmother, except... browner."
"Not everypony is an alabaster unicorn, Vinyl," Octavia said. "She was a sniper."
Vinyl groaned. "Oh, this just gets better and better. A hoof in the face is one thing, but seriously? She shot ponies for a living?"
"Now she serves double shot cappuccinos. Interesting how retirement works, isn't it?" Octavia said. "She told me she didn't like the job. Loved the shooting, didn't enjoy aiming at ponies. Now she's here."
"Sounds like she made a good choice to me."
Octavia leaned back on her chair, the whole thing creaking as she did so. "For her, I imagine so. Not to mention I can't imagine the counter without her."
Vinyl grumbled, annoyed.
"Well, can you at least be careful? I didn't realize Lower Canterlot was quite so dangerous."
"It isn't as bad as all that," Octavia corrected. "But I do try to be careful. And maybe you won't be quite as cavalier when you start bar-fights in your posh bars."
Vinyl flinched as if stung. "Hey! My bars are not posh! They're gritty, dark, and—"
"Oh please. Every single chair in your bars is padded. They have money and you know it," Octavia said with a grin. "Or at least, you should..."
Vinyl frowned. "I'm as down to earth as you are!"
"If you say so Vinyl. If you say so..."
Vinyl snorted angrily. "Just finish your drink and lets go. My butt's starting to go numb."
Octavia sighed, and picked up her drink again, eager to distance herself from Vinyl's anxieties. It did make her chuckle to think that Vinyl, who prided herself on being a 'tough pony' would have a hard time surviving without cell reception. The cappuccino was just what the musician needed, thankfully.
"I wonder if I should buy a slice of cake..." she muttered. To her dismay, Longshots generosity only went so far. Cakes were full price.
Her eye was drawn to a tall stallion, who had decided to come in despite the packed atmosphere. Octavia couldn't blame him: she really liked the place herself. She turned back to Vinyl.
"I'm going to get some cake: do you want some?"
Vinyl shrugged.
"Sure, if they've got chocolate."
Octavia smiled, glad her friend was calming down a little after their argument. She pushed her chair back and got to her hooves. She frowned as her bow tie scratched against her neck as she navigated the sea of chairs, so she loosened it up a bit. She finally reached the counter again, but hadn't been able to cut in front of the newcomer.
He was well dressed at least, and wore a snappy piece of headgear. Pork-pie hats were definitely in this season.
"Get to you in a sec', hon'," Longshot told her as she looked at her new customer. Octavia couldn't help but notice a flash of concern pass the shop-owners face.
"That's mighty kind of you, old lady, but I can wait. Please..." he said calmly, gesturing to Octavia to go first.
The musician couldn't help but get a bad feeling from him. His voice was as oily as a snakes.
"Oh no, I just couldn't..." she replied, tumbling back into her old Trottingham accent, like she did whenever she was flustered. The stallion smiled reassuringly. Octavia felt like a minnow being comforted by a shark.
"It ain't no bother, lil' lady, it's just me and the owner of this establishment need a bit of discretion, if you get my drift."
Octavia bit back a sarcastic retort. This wasn't the time to go acting like her uncle, after all... that old codger had gotten himself in trouble the last time his mouth had run away with him.
"Um... if you insist."
She carefully stepped in front of the stallion, but just before he got behind her, she could swear she saw him smile.
"Well... Could I have a slice of vanilla cake, and another of chocolate?"
Longshot nodded, still keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the stallion behind her, who was searching his pockets nonchalantly.
"You don't sell a Lucy, by any chance? I'm all out of smokes."
Longshot shook her head, and carefully placed the large slices of bakery on two small saucers. Octavia balanced them on her head and began to slowly move back to Vinyl.
Her curiosity got the better of her, however, and she listened in to the conversation that unfolded behind her.
"Now listen, you dumb broad... I don't care if you're some war hero from the Colonial uprising, if you don't pay up, my boss is gonna' get real angsty..."
Octavia almost dropped her plates as her fears and suspicions about the stallion were confirmed. It was happening again.
She'd never hear the end of it from Vinyl if the DJ ever found out.
"Kid, I shot more ponies than you've gone and met. How 'bout you take your little threats outside, see how the sidewalk likes 'em?" Longshot snarled, no longer the smiling shopkeeper Ocavia knew. Was this what she had sounded like during the war?
The stallion was not impressed. The look in his eye told a similar story: he didn't look afraid of a fight either.
"Big mistake, lady. I happen to know that you've got your hooves in a few more pies than you'd care t'admit... more'n you'd care to have become public knowledge. If I was to tip off the authorities, for example..."
Octavia heard the sound of a chair being pushed back. She searched the room for the source of this new disturbance.
The detective had gotten up.
"Speaking of the authorities... 'ello, 'ello, 'ello, what have we here?" he said, flashing a badge at both ponies. "Detective Private Eye. Nice meeting you."
Octavia's breathing became halted and haphazard. She tried to take a deep breath and calm herself: this was no time to panic.
"Just get back to Vinyl... if something goes pear shaped she'll never be able to handle herself..." Octavia muttered to herself. When she reached her friend, she put the two slices of cake down.
"Took you long enough. What's all that noise from the counter about?"
Octavia swallowed nervously.
"Well, don't panic or anything... but you know when you asked if this was a gangster den?"
Vinyl nodded.
"Yeah... pretty stupid of me, I guess."
Octavia paused. Vinyl scanned her face, and frowned.
"Well, not quite so stupid as you might think."
The DJ looked back over at the three ponies at the counter. "What are you saying... is this a hold-up or something?"
Octavia shook her head. "More like a negotiation, I think. In any case, we should wait for an opportunity to leave, and then head for the hills."
"This is a joke, right? W-what day is it?"
Octavia looked over at the three ponies at the counter, worried. If things got out of hoof...
"...Because if it's the first of April, I'll know this is a joke."
"It's not the bloody first of April! We're in bloody November for Celestia's sake!" Octavia whispered angrily.
Some of the customers closer to the door, sensing trouble had already found an opportunity to skedaddle. Octavia and Vinyl, being stranded in the corner, had no such luck. The noise had quietened down, and now they could hear the discussion clearly.
"Detective. I think you'll find that today this is out of your jurisdiction," the stallion said. The detective shook his head.
"I don't think so, Shady Shears. Been looking for you for a long time. As for you, miss Longshot, I thought you were out of the smuggling business. Looks like I was mistaken."
Longshot narrowed her eyes. "I think you'll find you are mistaken. I did smuggle artefacts out of Zebrica, but I don't do that anymore."
Shady chuckled. "Naw, now you just move salt around... you know, the real good stuff."
The look that Longshot fired at Shady could have melted titanium. Detective Private Eye raised an eyebrow, halfway between amused and disgruntled. Octavia gathered that he didn't like the salt trade.
"Salt, huh? I'd be very interested to have your testimonial on that, Shady. Mind coming to the department with me? Unarmed, of course."
"No can do, boss. I 'got a job, and it doesn't involve me spreadin' rumours about a possible client... if she decides to pay up, that is."
"Go soak your head," Longshot spat. Shady shrugged.
"Still not keen to go to jail though, boss. Sorry 'bout that."
"So if I try to arrest you, you'll resist, huh?" the detective asked.
Octavia swore as obscenely as she could under her breath. Vinyl gave her a shocked look.
"Even I don't know that word!" she exclaimed.
"I'd rather you didn't, boss," Shady said. Both ponies were mere inches away from the other, and the tension in the room felt electric. Longshot was immobile behind the counter, her hooves invisible. Octavia prayed to Celestia that she wasn't going to try anything foolish...
The seconds seemed to slow down, and Octavia's muscles tensed up. The air began to feel thin as she waited for somepony to chuckle and come to an understanding. Longshot twitched, and in that second, Octavia realized that it was not to be.
Longshots forelimbs snapped up, lightning fast. Both detective Private Eye and Shady Shears leapt aside, without even waiting to see what it was she held in her hooves. They didn't need to check: they already knew what it would be. Octavia and Vinyl didn't have such quick reflexes, and by the time they realized that it was a double barrelled rifle, it was too late: shots had already been fired.
One bullet snapped into the wall behind Shady, and the other caught his pork-pie hat, whipping it off his head. The remaining customers screamed and made a mad dash for the exit. Vinyl didn't scream: she was too stunned to even squeak, but she too tried getting to her hooves. Octavia saw Shady lift a six-gun of his own towards her, however, and caught her tail just in time, yanking her behind the table.
The shot missed by inches.
"Nopony move!" Shady bellowed, all his false charm gone. Private Eye growled.
"Oi! No shooting civilians!"
Whilst Longshot ducked behind her counter to reload, Shady rolled his eyes at the detective's demands.
"I ain't a copper, boss!" Shady shouted back. He flipped over a thick wooden table to use as cover, in much the same manner that Private Eye was using a comfortable looking settee. Octavia rolled her own table onto it's side and pulled Vinyl as close as she could so they would be both safe and out of sight. The disk jockey struggled as she tried to escape her grasp.
"Are you crazy? We have to get out of here!" Vinyl whispered.
"If we move, we'll be shot."
"Please remain calm, ladies. I'm sure we can all be civil here, right?" Private Eye shouted. "How about we lay down some rules?"
"Buck your rules. You show your heads, either one of you, and I'll blow your brains all over the wall," Longshot growled. "I ain't going to the slammer."
"Rule number one: no shooting civilians," Private Eye continued, ignoring the old mare. Longshot hesitated.
"Well... okay for that one. I guess I don't like the idea of killin' a payin' customer."
Octavia felt it best to avoid mentioning that she didn't pay for her coffee.
"You might not wanna' hurt anypony, but if they move, I'll shoot 'em myself," Shady declared belligerently. "I don't know about you, but I like killing ponies."
"Rule number two: no petty insults, please. We're all better than that."
Longshot nodded.
"That's fair."
"I can't believe we're doing this..." Shady grumbled. "Fine. If I get caught with no class, that's my street cred' out the window."
"Rule number three: no suicide. That's just cheap."
"I may be old, but I ain't goin' out just yet. Agreed."
"I may not be old, but seconded."
Shady glimpsed around the edge of his table, eyeing the room. A tremendous crack echoed throughout the coffee shop, and he pulled his head back just in time to avoid having his skull turned to jelly by Longshot's rifle.
Vinyl tensed up at the noise. "Oh, ponyfeathers! Horseapples and candysticks! I'm never letting you choose our restaurant again, 'Tavi. You're useless!"
"Vinyl, if we get out of this, you can take me to as many expensive bars as you want."
"They're not expensive! Celestia, why am I even arguing with you? Why am I still talking?"
"Just shut up, you dumb broad!" Shady bellowed. "You're embarrassin' the grown-ups."
"Hey! What did I say about petty insults?" Private Eye exclaimed. "Let's keep this civil!"
"It's just my regular speak, boss! I can't help it!"
"Well, make an effort."
"Girls, girls... you're both butt-ugly, so shut the hell up!" Longshot growled.
"Fine! Everypony ignore rule two, why don't you? It sucked anyway!"
"Can I introduce rule four? Everypony please try to keep calm!" Octavia interjected. "I think that the more relaxed we are, the better the chances we all get out of this alive."
"Screw that. As far as I'm concerned, the old lady over there tried to blow my head off... three times, the copper over there wants me arrested, and you're witnesses. You're all gonna' be pushin' daisies by the time this is over."
"I actually like rule four," Private Eye told him as he pressed himself against the comfortable settee.
"It has a nice ring to it," Longshot added. "But I'm not exactly a cold blooded killer, so..."
With that, she lifted herself over the counter and took aim at Private Eye. It wasn't hard to tell that she had been a master marksman in her day: if either Vinyl or Octavia had been watching, they wouldn't have even had time to blink before she had finished her fluid movement and pulled the trigger. She fired directly into Privates hoof which was poking out the side of his cover, making the detective cry out in pain and whip his forelimb back into cover. Longshot didn't have time to savour her small victory, however, since before she could get back in cover, Shady fired two shots straight at her. She collapsed behind the counter.
"Damn it! Longshot! Oi, Longshot!" Private Eye shouted, gritting his teeth as he tried to ignore the pain of the bullet. "You alive?"
There was no answer. The detective sighed
"Well, that's one interrogation I won't have to handle, at least. Salt trade, you say, Shady?"
"Yup. She might have even been lacin' her coffee with it. Gives it a bit of a smoky quality, you know?"
"Actually, I wouldn't. I don't do salt."
Octavia sighed. She couldn't believe that she might have been made a salt addict all this time. Longshot had a lot to answer for... or at least, she did. It was scary how in such a brief moment the old mare had been ended. Both Private and Shady were back in cover, Private nursing his hoof and Shady purring like a cat, proud of his shot, even if Longshot had been made slow due to her old age.
"'Tavi? 'Tavi, did... did Longshot..." Vinyl began.
"It looks like it, Vinyl. Just keep your head down, you'll be fine."
"If that madpony wins, we're both gonners'. I want to go home..."
Octavia glanced over at the corridor that led to the bathroom, only a few yards away. The path was littered with tables and junk, though, so getting there would be no picnic.
"Maybe I can get to the bathroom and escape via the window... get some help," she suggested, as quietly as she could, trying not to tip Shady off.
"Won't help already be on the way? I mean, so many ponies made it out..."
Octavia's face fell. "This is Lowtown... I doubt they'd go to the police."
Vinyl swallowed. Under the circumstances, Octavia figured she was handling this pretty well for a pony used to the luxuries of Upper Town. Vinyl had never been without her phone, taxi's that arrived on time, television, decent take-aways and a regular job. For all her bluster, deep down, she was a very innocent pony.
"Hey, what 'you whisperin' 'bout back there?" Shady asked.
"I'm... I'm telling her... Uh..." Octavia began. After a brief moment of thought, she narrowed her eyes. "Bugger that."
She threw herself towards the corridor, towards the safe zone out of sight as fast as she could. Shady saw the movement and fired at her, desperate to hit the moving target. Private widened his eyes and tried to react in time, but his injured hoof stung so bad he lost his grip on his weapon.
A small splash of blood hit the wall. Octavia collapsed in the corridor, moaning in pain and clutching her hind leg.
"'Tavi!" Vinyl screamed. "'Tavi?"
"Buck. Just grazed her..." Shady grumbled.
Private Eye hit his head against the settee he used for cover. With his injured hoof, he wasn't fast enough to keep up with Shady's reflexes, and he knew Shady was aware of his disadvantage. He wouldn't risk getting out of cover yet, though... he'd wait.
"Ugh... I'm okay... but I can't move..." Octavia groaned.
Vinyl felt like screaming. This was a horrible day.
"Oh my gosh! This can't be real..."
"Anypony got a smoke?" Shady asked cockily, smirking as he blew on the barrel of his weapon. Private Eye shook his head, un-eager to lose face against his opponent.
"Sorry, I just quit. Those things will kill you."
Shady tutted, disappointed.
"Speaking of things killing you, you know that Longshot had a daughter, right? How long do you think you'll last before you'll be shot in the head by a sniper rifle?" Private Eye asked. Shady shrugged.
"How long do you think you'll live before a truck full of ponies armed with automatics shoots your house to bits? What do you think will happen to your missus, eh?"
"Joke's on you: my wife divorced me," Private Eye retorted.
"Is nopony going to help 'Tavi?" screamed Vinyl, outraged. Private sighed.
"Doin' my best, sweetheart."
Private Eye went silent. Octavia wondered, through the haze of pain, what he was thinking. What strategy could an injured guard come up with whilst being pinned down by a deadly gunpony? With his injured hoof, he might be able to take a shot, but it was more likely that Shady would get him. And then, what would happen to the civilians? The criminal had made it clear he didn't want them to live. Private Eye sucked in the air through his teeth as he pondered an idea. After a short while, the detective discreetly slid his gun over to where Vinyl was hiding, and gave her a look. Vinyl knew what that look said: it said that she'd have to pick the gun up, and maybe use it.
"Oh, no!" she exclaimed, loud enough for everypony to hear. Private Eye forced himself to sound confused.
"What's that, lil' lady?"
Vinyl looked at the small revolver that lay on the ground in front of her. Celestia above, she didn't even know how to fire that thing...
"What's goin' on? I don't like all this noise, folks..." came Shady's threatening voice. Vinyl didn't respond: she didn't want to provoke him.
Tentatively, she picked it up. It was made of heavy metal, and weighed more than she expected it to. Everypony she saw always seemed to treat it as something light, after all. She closed her eyes.
"Guns and ponies don't mix..." she muttered. She felt Octavia's stare on her.
Damn it, she thought. She had to save Octavia...
She raised the weapon towards Shady, leaning out of cover despite her better judgement. To her surprise, the place she sat gave a fairly unobstructed view of the criminal. Shady noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye, and looked over at her, surprised. Instead of looking panicked, he calmed down and knowingly, as relaxed as he dared.
"Dumb broad... I can't believe you'd be so stupid as to think you can shoot me..." he said, and slowly raised his own weapon towards her with painstaking deliberation. "You don't have the guts."
Despite all her best efforts, though, Vinyl couldn't bring herself to shoot.
"Damn it, is this even where the trigger is?!" she wailed. Shady grinned.
"Sayonara..." he smiled, and fired.
The bullet would have hit Vinyl, too, if he hadn't been tackled at the last second by Private Eye, who took advantage of the distraction to slam him into the ground, making Shadys shot go wild and hitting one of the boilers. Steam began leaking from it, whistling loudly. Vinyl dropped the gun, paralysed.
"Oh, horseapples... I almost died..."
She looked over at Octavia, who smiled, despite her injury. Vinyl trotted over to her so she could examine the wound, shaking as she did so.
They were finally safe.
Vinyl picked up the glass mug and brought it to her lips, drinking the delicious beverage in. Octavia was sat next to her, her rear leg bandaged up like a mummy from an old horror movie. She was forced to replace her cello case with a crutch, and she wasn't happy about it.
"See? Isn't this better than some stinking coffee shop?" she asked. Octavia sighed.
"Serves me right for thinking I can take you anywhere..." she grumbled. "But don't think that it proves Lowtown is all danger and guns."
Vinyl shrugged. "Hey, probably not, but I'm still not going down there again. You know what I learned? That I like being used to the finer cheap things in life. Like the sort of cheap bars that don't have scummy criminals groping ponies, and have padded seats at every table. The sort of down to earth taxi that doesn't overcharge. I like those things a lot, 'Tavi. I like always having cell reception, even when it's crap. You can't take those things away from me: they're part of who I am."
Octavia sighed. "Well, I suppose that means you'll never want to have an adventure again, will you?"
"Nope. Leave that to the elements of harmony. I like music: I want to play music. And guess what? I can't do that if I'm dead," she said. "And that means that I pick the restaurants from now on. Also the hotels. And the supermarkets. In fact, I'll choose everything."
Octavia looked down at her cider, morose. She had created a monster. "Pity. I really did like Longshots coffee..."
"That's just the salt talking."
"You know, nopony ever proved that."
"It's Canterlot lowtown... what do you expect?"
Octavia snorted. "You've only ever been there once, Vinyl."
"Well, I'm a fast learner. No more crossing the street for me. I'm going to find bridges... or nice, quiet country roads."
The cider in front of Octavia was beginning to get warm. She sighed, and took another long gulp.
"I'll need to find a new coffee shop, now. A safe one, preferably. I don't know how many bullets I can survive..."
Vinyl nodded. "Sounds like a good plan. I think I'll stick to cider. No getting shot, understand?"
"I promise to try my very best."
