Those Thirty Days

  Keen leaned back in her chair, a billion thoughts rushing through her head. She had heard the ponies gasping at the end of the recording, the sound of a second set of hooves leaving the chamber in the final moments giving her more questions than answers. As her mind raced to catch up and pick up whatever she had missed, a knock on the door tore her from her thoughts. Standing up, she walked up to the door, opening it without looking through the peep hole. Before her stood a stallion she very much knew. Though she had only seen him in grainy, black and white images, it was no mistaking him.

"Hello, Miss Keen Eye, it's nice to finally meet you face to face." He said in a more calm and relaxed voice then what she had come to know him for, not to mention the recording equipment hadn't caught the deeper tones in his voice, which made his voice all the richer.

  "Mister Calculated Risk, please, come in." She said, stepping back from the doorway. Risk nodded politely, stepping in before looking back to the hallway.

  "I'd like you to meet my wife. Miss Keen Eye, meet Brushstroke." He said with an ever growing smile that was only bolstered by Keen shocked expression as the crimson mare Brushstroke walked in through the doorway, giving Keen an earnest smile.

  "Hello, Keen Eye, Risk has told me a great deal about you." Brushstroke said, giving a slight bow. Keen only nodded in response, her jaw still ajar. Calculated Risk quickly cleared his throat, breaking Keen's stupor.

  "As you probably have guessed by now," Risk began, "I am the pony that hired you to investigate the project known as Solitaire, which seems to have expanded into a full on investigation on the Fillydelphia Research Institute." Keen nodded slowly, having had her suspicions for some time, though having no evidence to back it up. "Well, as your client, I would like to thank you for taking the time from your schedule for my case."

  "It was no problem at all." Keen replied. "Though I must ask, why me?" Keen asked as she cocked her head. Ever since the beginning she had had her questions why this pony hadn't hired somepony more professional to take the case.

  "To be honest, you were the twelfth candidate I had made inquiries about. You were the only pony out of twenty-five who, after receiving the case materials actually went past the first day's recording." Keen blushed slightly.

  "Well, I just thought that if somepony asked for my help it was only right for me to try and give it." She replied sheepishly. "But twenty-five ponies, and I was the only one who actually tried to do something about it?"

  "I believe that the F.R.I. had no small hoof in that matter. I hear that most of the investigators had been stalked by a stranger for several days with multiple threats to them. Tell me, did you get any of that in your case?" Risk asked, looking over the apartment, most likely looking for signs of any struggle or ransacking that might tell him.

  "I did, in fact they drafted me into one of their projects, though I managed to escape before the end of the first day." Keen replied. "I suffered very little in comparison to other ponies." Risk slowly nodded in response, slowly looking back to Keen.

  "Yes, it was quite... disturbing to here about things like Illusions or even Ghost Town. Terrible affairs, most frightful indeed." He said, much to Keen's surprise.

  "B-but you suffered as much as they did, if not more." Keen interjected, only to watch as Calculated Rick shook his head with a small smile.

  "I suffered little in comparison. I had Brushstroke to keep me company for the final ten suppers, which more than amply made up for the heartache of the days before." Risk looked over to his wife with a smile that had mingled a measure of pain with the joy it displayed. "The others were alone, or in a world so foreign that they could never find escape, but Brushstroke was my escape, my relief in the times of pain and suffering we endured."

  "We may have gone through an experiment that was intended to be as awful as, if not worse than, many of their other projects," Brushstroke explained, "But when we found each other the project became that much easier to bare. Risk might have been on the brink of a full mental break, but when I came to him... I believe in a sense, I saved him." Then turning back to Keen she added. "We saved each other. If I had been alone I would've likely died, much as he would've killed himself, as dark as that sounds."

  "We both needed somepony, and we both got somepony. We complete each other in a way that we had never been completed before." Risk said, turning back to Keen too. "Ponies aren't meant to be alone. We are intrinsically social creatures. Even shy ponies would feel lost if they had no connection with the world they feel so uncomfortable with most of the time. Even loners  and antisocial ponies need to at least be in situations with other living beings, even if that's just being in the same room and not talking, as long as they can maintain a sense of connection with the world."

  "You are starting to sound a bit preachy, honey." Brushstroke interjected, cutting of the stallion of her dreams before he could go into a long winded speech.

  "I suppose you're right." Risk sighed. "Well, Detective Keen Eye," Risk said, producing a pouch of bits, "Here is you well deserved payment for helping us." Risk lifted an eyebrow at the pouch and at the two ponies.

  "But I didn't solve any case." Keen said, unsure why she was receiving payment before completing a task forth the coin. "I can't accept payment until I do something worth it."

  "I was figuring on giving it to you for taking down the F.R.I. and having the patience to listen to all the tapes." Risk said. "Though if you want to feel you did something worth the pay, then tell me why Brushstroke came to life from nothing but a blood painting." Keen tapped her chin with a hoof, thinking hard about the different possibilities.

  "I suppose that," Keen began, hesitating slightly, "I might be that the innate magics within you that yearned for friendship might have caused the blood to function as a sort of impromptu lattice work for a spell to take hold of, which when fed the desire for companionship as a directive, formed a being to serve as the method through which to mitigate that most vital necessity." Keen offered. Both Calculated Risk and Brushstroke nodded with satisfied smiles.

  "A very well thought out response, with rather solid reasoning behind it to." Risk commented before looking over to Brushstroke. "The explanation we had worked out before was a bit more simple than that, though." Looking back to Keen, he explained. "We believe it was simply the magic of friendship that wanted to see a pony happy." Keen nodded slowly. There was no real right answer to this question since there was so little data on the matter. "And now that you solved a mystery, I hope you will now accept your payment, you earned it for all hat you've been through." Keen gave him a pleasant smile, watching as the two left the room. Picking up the bag of money, Keen picked the coin bag and tossed in onto the couch before closing the door, a final sense of closure settling over the whole thing. Looking back to the group of tapes, file holder filled with blotted out papers, and the tape player that had faithfully played the evidence for her with a happy sigh. Walking up to the pile, she shut the tape player one final time, noticing a small note tacked onto the top of it.

Thank you

Keen smiled, taking the note off before sitting back down on her couch.