Snuggles and Heavy Weapons

Canterlot Hills, Fleur's Mansion - 3:23 AM
02/10/19

"Make yourself at home, Danny." Fleur said with a smile, dropping her scarf over a large and ancient looking armchair.

Up in the second floor, in a cozy corner of the mansion, was Fleur's room. Her chambers were richly adorned with a multitude of artworks and statuettes, a private collection acquired over the centuries by her family.

The Lis dynasty was one of the oldest unicorn clans of Cantetlot, and maybe even Equestria. They were powerful in many ways, and weren't afraid of showing their influence when necessary.

Fleur was not your ordinary kind of pony; she was tallest than the average mares, and carried with her a very intelligent and observant mind, an unique personality, that's for sure.

Paintings of ponies I presumed were her parents hanged on the walls side by side. They looked like her in several aspects, in special the eyes; deep, entrancing violet oceans. There was some sort of blazonry stamped on each stripe of the wallpaper, crowns and lilies - those were everywhere.

The room itself was slightly circular, maybe octagonal, certainly inside one of the towers. Tall window panes surrounded the chamber, most of them hidden behind thick crimson and golden curtains. An equally opulent bed was placed right across the room, stained glass panels projecting the shapes of her cutie mark over the bed linen, light scattered around in diffuse pinkish tones.

She walked past the bed, opening some cabinets and doors, focused in doing god knows what, fixing another drink for us, I presumed. I sat down on a couch, my body being practically swallowed by the pillows.

Maybe it was the lilac wine, or maybe it was just ingenuity mixed with my human instincts acting over me. I couldn't say for sure why I accepted Fleur's offer - but now I was here, and the bizarre fact that a pony like her had invited me to an upscale neighborhood started to settle down in my brain, and the thoughts it stirred were quite unsettling.

Most of them ended up with trouble.

"So..." I said, accepting the floating glass of wine that Fleur carried with her magic. "Of all the-"

"First a toast - To the future of our friendship." She said, some odd memories regarding toasts and possible futures emerging in my mind.

"To the future of our... Friendship." I repeated. An uneasy smile in my face. Wine glasses tinkled as they touched, the sound was sharp and ripped the air like a bullet fired upwards during the start of a race.

"So, as I was saying." I resumed my line of thought, not paying too much attention to the wine. I don't think normal people are ever interested in the wine, anyway. "Of all the ponies in that bar, why choose the human at the corner?"

"Why not to choose the human?" She replied.

"That's not an answer." I said, chuckling to myself.

"Ask the right question, and you'll get the right answer." Fleur said, placing her glass aside and resting her head against a pillow. She looked dangerously cute.

"We both know I am not the sort of thing you'd bring home after drinking an entire bottle of lilac wine." I said. Fleur looked at me and smiled in a seemingly mischievous way.

"And we both know you are not the person you seem to be - or want the others to believe you are."

She was sharp like a razor blade, her words pierced and dodged all my questions. Even though I pushed, nothing would come out, at least not if I insisted in this back and forth strategy.

"Tell me, what do you want me to be?" I asked, turning to face her.

Softly, she straightened up, her muzzle dangerously close to my neck, brushing softly against my cheeks, she whispered.

"A dead man."

Before I could figure out what those words implied, Fleur kissed me, closing her kaleidoscope eyes, and pressing her chest against mine. Entranced like a moth in a lighthouse, I refused to struggle when the buttons of my shirt were ripped one by one, the light pink glow emanating from her horn doing all the job.

Tilting her head slightly to the side, she moved her lips away from mine.

"I'm so sorry."

In a split of a second, pleasure turned into pain, as Fleur grasped my neck with a strangling spell.

"What remained of Borealis dies with you, Graff."

Fleur's Mansion
Six Months Ago

"I must admit Fleur, never an agent of mine had been so successful in a planned career before" Said a tall white stallion, a dark suit covering his chest, in front of him a table pilled up with documents, pictures, objects, and all sorts of evidence he needed.

"I know, I'm one of the best..." She said with sarcastic pride.

"Even though the whole operation has been an outstanding victory, I can't help but feel sorry for your model self. I mean - what a pristine reputation you've managed to build along these years in the fashion industry." He said, pacing around the table and all the things scattered, glancing through the windows as if inspecting the neighborhood for the first time. It wasn't the case, naturally.

"Indeed, It's a shame." Fleur said. "But that's life, isn't it? I knew the consequences when I accepted the opportunity. We need to move on, after all."

"Yes, yes... We need to move on." The stallion nodded in complacency.

It was a warm afternoon, and the windows were half-opened to let the air in. The mansion itself was always slightly dark, being day or night, but the skies were clear outside and the sun low at the horizon, casting shadows and long patches of light on the floor and walls.

Fleur sat down on a sun bathed part of the couch, her white fur reflecting the shining yellowish tones.

"Say Fancy Pants, what do you have for me today? I don't suppose it involves more elite ponies." She chuckled.

"Not at all!" He replied enthusiastically, his body partially engulfed in shadows. A faint monochromatic sunset slowly setting on the back of his eyes. "I presume that by this time, you already know something about the new assignment?"

"You presumed right" She assured. "Living human 'relics' from the war times, considerable possibility of heavy weapons, agonizing corporations..." Fleur said, as if making a groceries check list.

"It's not as simple as it may seem, I'm afraid." Fancy Pants said, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. "Someone out there is almost literally a time bomb. Someone who has been in standby for a long, long time. A psychological limbo, it seems"

"Psychological limbo?" She repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"The heir of Borealis - Daniel Alexander Graff. A paranoid mid-thirties human raised right here in this same neighborhood of yours, now living in Lower Canterlot, doing Celestia knows what. The last of his family still in this world. " He said, laying on an armchair across the living room. " He's a mix of fear, regret, and a little bit of repressed anger."

"And why should we worry about someone like him?" Fleur asked.

"Because this 'someone' carries the access codes to the most destructive thing ever built in Equestria. The major problem is not him, but the three thermonuclear warheads he has access to."

Silence filled the room at the mention of nuclear weapons. It was an ominous word, no matter how hard they tried to ignore the feeling.

"And where are those things?"

"That's your job to find out... What we do know is that he has a necklace with the coordinates. Find Daniel Graff, get the necklace." The stallion said, resting his empty glass aside.

"What about him?" Fleur inquired.

"He's disposable. The guy knows too much for his own good." He sighed coldly. "Eliminate him"

"Get off me!" I growled, feeling my face getting numb.

Something happened when her spell surrounded the necklace, something odd. As I struggled to set myself free, a bizarre light repelled her magic, as if an invisible shield had just been placed between me and Fleur. That thing pushed her away in a sudden jolt of energy, throwing the mare on the floor. I breathed heavily, my lungs aching as air filled them up again.

"What-what the fuck are you doing?" I said, crawling away from her.

She never answered me. In a second, Fleur was standing again, her horn was lit, and with heavy thuds the doors started to close. To hell with that, I turned around and started to run. There were no more cozy spots, no safe heaven, only one corridor leading out, and its mirrored walls towering over me.

I looked back, and couldn't believe in my eyes when Fleur lifted a grotesque gun from a cabinet. Even more grotesque was the fact I had seen that kind of stuff before - it was manufactured by Borealis, although Fleur's one was clearly enhanced somehow, that thing fired crystal rounds. My heart pounded like a train as I dodged from the imminent shots.

The first explosion sent hundreds of shards all over the corridor, the windows being knocked over by the blast wave. A violet fire quickly consumed the wallpaper and furniture, burning everything on its way - including me.

"I'll kill you Graff!" Her voice echoed through the hallway, I couldn't see her, but I felt the heat emanating from the smoke. Fleur was completely unaffected by it.

When I finally reached the stairways, my head throbbed painfully, and I could hear blood flowing in and out. The hair on the back of my neck stood up with static.

"You are making a huge mistake, Fleur. You have absolutely no idea of what you're trying to do." I said as I stopped to breath, pressing my chest with an arm. I couldn't have a heart attack - not there - not yet.

"You are the mistaken."

Ozone, magic had a smell, and it smelled like ozone. Like old bumper cars is amusement parks.

I came to realize that soon after the second explosion hit my back. The bumper cars of Waterbury Park, when I was five or six years old, a few years before I moved to Canterlot. They were the only thing in mind, as my body fell down the stairs, there was no pain, no anger, only energy and ozone.

I was supposed to be dead at the spot, carbonized, just like the rest of this world would be in less than ten minutes. But again, I guess it wasn't supposed to be this way.

Somehow, for reasons I never figured out completely, that necklace immunized me. An odd irony, considering its purpose.

Even more shocked than me, was Fleur, by the moment I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, still too weak to move, but conscious enough to be aware of my situation. I coughed, chuckling at the tough nature of this life of mine that refused to go away.

"That's not possible..." She muttered, walking through the vivid fire as if it was nothing. "How?"

Fleur stopped in front of me, my clothes had turned into dark ashes, surrounding my silhouette like a meteor landing site. I was intact. And so was the necklace.

Silently, she touched it. Her eyes reflecting the chaos around us.

"No..." I said, holding her hoof. "Do anything you want, but don't take this thing out." My voice sounded oddly raspy and shattered.

"And what happens if I do?" She pushed my chest against the floor, the necklace surrounded by her magical grasp again.

"Your world dies." I replied with crude honesty. "There are three ballistic missiles in an underground silo-" I coughed, dust making shapes in the air. "Near the coast of Manehattan... The system is activated in case of death, or removal of this necklace." Fleur finally backed away, shaking her head in denial. "What's the matter now? Afraid to get burned? I have this shit around my neck since I was five. Do you think I had a choice?" I growled.

"Someone must know how to remove it, why didn't you never-"

"This someone is dead." I said. "The system may have been deactivated over two decades ago when my father stepped down from the company directory. But that's not enough!" Resting my back against a tapestry covered floor, I sighed. The sound of royal police sirens and the whole fuss on the streets crept in the mansion halls through the cracked windows.

"I've been trying, Fleur... God knows how far I went to look for these damned codes. But nothing... I can't access the necklace, I can't change the program. I'm living in a fucking abandoned mine only to keep your stupid race safe for another year."

"Royal Police!" Someone shouted, a sound of hurried hoofsteps making their way inside the house. "Drop your weapons and lay down!"

"I can't fix this mess alone. Not anymore." I muttered, rolling on the floor with my arms behind my back.

I heard something being dropped on the ground, as I presumed, Fleur was forced to lay down as well. No one had special privileges when the royal police stepped in.

It was late, my eyes were heavy and burning like a pair of brass lanterns, Fleur was in no better situation; with dark chunks of burnt fur tarnishing her once pristine coat, and her mane standing in the most random shapes, she definitely would've exterminated me if it weren't for the missiles.

That was such a beautiful night.