The Detective Who Likes To Watch Rainbows

I’ve read that letter over a dozen times. At first, I wasn’t even sure it came from Twilight, until I saw her seal on the bottom. All the details on this seal are the same as every other seal she sends me; she’s… what’s the word, meticulous? Yeah, that’s the word she uses with these type of things. So that’s how I know it’s her.

Now, even though the letter is from Twilight, the whole deal smells fishy to me. I do anything for a friend, but something didn’t seem right. But that matter is gonna have to wait, as I walk on the outskirts of town.

I don’t get it; all that’s out here are open fields. No houses or cabins, just open fields. That’s another thing: Twilight never included any address. Plus, no one in town has heard of the guy!

So that’s how I spent my afternoon off of work, wandering the outskirts of Ponyville while keeping an eye out for a house that probably doesn’t exist.

Wait, I see something.  Close to the Everfree Forest, yet far away from Fluttershy’s cottage – there’s a building, underneath a few trees. A dirt path leads to it with a sign next to it. The words are faded.

Sighing, that house is my best bet. So I trot over to the house, and stop before the door. An urge comes over to me to describe the place, but not words come that suit the feeling justice. All I can say is that it’s a choice to put a two story house next to a forest.

I knock on the door. The blinds on the second story slide left for a second, before sliding back. I huff, and the door before me opens. I inch my head to the left to see if someone was hiding behind the door frame, yet it appears that the door opened on it’s own.

I pretty sure I’m about to get murdered, but, there’s a chance that this could be the place I’m looking for. So, I stepped inside and close the door behind me.

There’s a door to the right of me, but there’s dust on the handle. A closest to my left, with a staircase leading to the second floor. Seeing how that’s the only route available, I ascend the stairs to find what lay on floor number two.

I reach the second floor, where next to me, is another pair of stairs that end at the roof; my assumption being that you could access the roof from there. With walls and only door before me, I take my chance and open it.

I swear I didn’t hear music playing from downstairs. I mean, maybe I was caught up the the weirdness of this place, but I know I didn’t hear any classical music.

The being before me danced from place to place. A violin rested over its shoulder, while its claw plucks the strings.

“Please be quiet,” he instructs, his back facing me. This guy definitely not a pony, as he stands at twice my height. Heck, I bet he and Princess Celestia would be on eye level.

I want to impress this guy. I don’t know why, but, the urge just came up. If this is indeed Spike, the he is a creature who stands on two feet, and looks to have scales instead of fur.Spines prod from the top of his head – none along his back, but a few trail along his tail.

The first thing that comes to mind is, that Spike is a failed mutation of some kind of lizard. You know, like the stuff you read from the comics where the creature is hit by some kind of ray, and then, it becomes a super creature!

…But, we don’t have that kind of technology in Equestria, so I’ll have to throw that aside. Oh, I also forgot to mention he wears clothes. He’s currently dressed with a white dress shirt with a suit jacket over top of it. But yet no pants…

Geeze, guy! If you’re gonna wear clothes, than you might as well put on the full package.

“Rainbow Dash,” the creature before me says, causing me to flinch. “There is a cup of tea ready for you on the counter.”

“But I don’t drink tea,” I say, trying to control my nerves.

“You do so on one exception,” he says, “when there is some milk in it, and a lot of sugar.”

Wha-how… huh?

“Please, take your tea and seat yourself over in that chair; all that walking must of been tiring.”

Okay, so am I in a detective’s office? Or a fortune teller’s?

Still, I do as I’m told and walk over to the counter. I take sip of tea, and as much as I want to say it doesn’t meet my standards out of spite; the tea is perfect. The surface is thick enough to please the tongue, and sweet enough to be cotton candy.

I frown, and bring myself and the tea over to the seat. I sit down and place the tea on the table next to me. I won’t let this guy see me drink it.

“So, tell me what happened. And, please, don’t be boring.”

The way how this guy turn to look at me, or even how down to me, I now understand why Twilight wanted me to keep calm with him. I just hope I can keep the promise to you, Twi.

“First of all,” I say, and I swear I hear him groan. “This matter that I bring up is of the utmost importance.” Did he just stifle a chuckle; I’m pretty sure he just stifled a chuckle! “So, I need to know: is your name Spike?”

He finally puts his violin back on its stand, takes a moment to compose himself, and turns around to face me. It was then upon seeing the fangs in his mouth, that my assumption of him being a lizard were wrong.

He was a dragon.

My legs buckle as the color drains from my face. “You’re… you’re… a dragon…”

“What?” he bows forward with a smirk. “Never seen one up close before?”

I shake my head. “No… besides the drawings in books… the ones with princess and princes.”

“Ah yes!” He stands back erect. “Greedy dragons, all body and no minds. External stimuli over internal, extroverts they are. Hmm.” He strokes his chin.

"Who rampage wherever they go, and keep a hoard rich enough to maintain a kingdom," I say, losing my voice.

"Ah yes, and we can't forget about the killings! My kind know nothing of compassion and go through only for their desires. Some grow so big that they even eat ponies." He licks his lips, lips open enough to show those fangs. Long enough for blood to drip off.

"Tell me, Rainbow Dash, by looking at me, do you think I could become a proper dragon?”

I hop over my fear and take a step forward. Sticking out my chest, I know my first impression was just stupid. “The way you look tells me yes. Eh, no offence."

"Hmm."

"But I can tell you're different. I've never head a dragon play the violin before."

"Hmm," go goes once more. "Thanks for that. I guess being different isn't a terrible thing." He taps his upper lip. "Though, if my boredom continues, then I may need change my ways in the future."

There’s one more thing I wanted to mention, but you could never pay me to say.

Spike is a good looking dragon, and dragons aren't supposed to look handsome.

“Now, as to my identity,” he goes. “My name is Spike – Spike the Detective. Or, know to some, as, Spike the Dragon!” He rolls his eyes and takes a seat opposite of mine.

“Say, do you always style your mane like that, or are you only doing that for today?”

I sit back in the chair. “You know, only mares are suppose to notice things like that.”

Spike hums. “I guess I am a bit of an odd fellow then.” He coughed and looked elsewhere for a moment. “Who sent you? Was it Twilight?”

“How do you know it was Twilight?” Dang it! I just gave away the answer. “And how did you know my name?”

“That’s because–”

“Oh wait, I forgot I’m kinda a big deal. You must have heard about me from the papers or something, am I right?” I crack a grin.

He nods his head, but his eyes keep studying me. He doesn’t seem like a perverted sort, but he definitely has the weird vibe to him.

“So, the letter, do you have it?”

“Letter, how—” I stop to compose myself. “Has, Twilight already spoken to you?”

“Twilight?” he asks. “No, I haven’t spoken to her in years.”

“Wait,” I find myself saying. “How do you know, who I am then, or even that I carry a letter? How did you know I was coming?”

Spike didn’t chuckle. Instead, he threw one leg over the other. “Because I saw you coming to my house. Now, you do look like the adventure’s sort, but only around friends – when you have something to prove – would you do something as foolish as walk into a house that looks to be abandoned.”

I wanted to cry out that he was wrong. Yet I couldn’t find my voice.

“Meaning, that you must of been looking for me in the first place,” Spike says as he places his right leg back on the floor. “Now, when you reached my door; you looked tired and your hooves were muddy. I can judge than, that you’ve been walking around for quite some time, and I can also judge you don’t care much for manners.”

He looks behind him at the open door. “As my stairs are quite dirty.”

“Sorry,” I say. “All that walking and thinking kinda overloaded my mind. I shouldn’t have let something as small as that slip my mind.”

“Not a worry!” he replies. “Now, if you were to look around my flat, you’d come to the conclusion that I don’t mind having it a bit messy.”

I look around and, dang it, he was right! Spike’s an oddball, but he’s got something going for him.

“Now, I must confess that I’ve heard about you and your gang.”

“You mean the Elements of Harmony!” I cry. Just who does this guy think he is? “We’re one of the most important—”

“Yeah yeah, I get it.” His words sounded like they were mocking me, yet his tone came with concern. “I deleted the information a while back, but this newspaper showed me the trace back to that memory.”

He points to the newspaper on the coffee table. I’m surprised that ponies still read the thing. Anyhow, on the front page, it reads: The Elements of Harmony Have Been Stolen! Below that heading, was a photo of the broken glass, and the stands for our elements. And below that, was a photo of the six of us wearing the Elements.

“So that’s how I recognized you and your problem,” he states. “So, the letter?”

“How do you know I have a letter?” I ask. He was spot on with anything else, but there’s no way he could know this without having been told. I can catch his lie here and now.

“You wearing a satchel that sags on the sides. Now, if you’re visiting a detective; one that you’ve never heard of before, than what could you possibly bring that’s so small to hardly affect a satchel?”

“A letter.” I find myself finishing. Now I get why Twilight wanted me to go to this guy. I dig into my bag and retrieve the letter, nibbling on the envelope and placing it on his claw. He opens it up and gives it a read.

Then, when he finished, he threw the letter into the fireplace. “Hey!” I shout. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“If this is Princess Twilight Sparkle we’re speaking of, and she wants sworn secrecy, then she’ll want that letter burned as soon as it’s been read.”

I want to fight back that logic, but he’s got a point. “I thought you hadn’t spoke to Twilight for years.”

“And I haven’t. But you reminding me of her triggered my box of her, unlocking all the memories I have of her.” He slams his fist on the chair; I jump in my seat. “Remind me to burn that box!”

“H-Hold on,” I say; “how do you know her?”

“That’s irrelevant to the matter at hand,” he says, casting his eyes elsewhere. “So, you need my help?”

“Not exactly me,” I say. “But the Royal Guard is at a loss on what they should do next. I guess Twilight needs you to give them a hoof.”

“And if I refuse?”

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come. I didn't expect him to spring that on me.

“Dah, I haven’t had a new case for months and I’m running low on tobacco.” He stands up and walks before me. “I’ll take the case on one condition.”

“And that is?”

“You have to be my partner in crime with this one.”

“Me?” I say. “A partner?”

“Yes,” he replies. “My pet skull fell and cracked to pieces, so I have no one to converse the case facts with.”

“I’m… a… I’m not sure if could.”

“Ah, that’s a shame.” Spike walks away to the coat hanger. He picks up a long black coat and throws his arms through it. It falls along his body and ends just above his ankles. He turns to me at the door frame.

“Going by the paper alone, I already deduce an overarching plot. One that will have gun fire, sword fighting, probably poison, and someone dead. You know, just the boring stuff you do everyday. Enjoy going back to weather patrol!”

He then left the room and proceeded down the stairwell. “Please make yourself at home!”

I sit for a moment. My mind is blank, yet my gut is telling me to run out of the room.

“Dang it!” I mutter. I rise up and dash out of the room.