Jacked Up

-{Chapter 4: "Giddy up, Moneybags."}-

~~~~~

Monday, April 21st, 1002 ANM

Canterlot, Equestria

Upper Canterlot (Exact location Unknown)

Denise eased the door open, creeping behind a nearby piece of furniture, Conrad close behind her.  She peered out, observing the room.

The room appeared to be a large pantry.  There were two island counters parallel to one another on opposite sides of the room, one of which the duo lay crouched behind.  Their suspicions had been correct- a pair of changelings, both blue-eyed with blue-green manes glared at eachother from the corners of their eyes. Neither had noticed the duo enter, and stood guard over their prisoner- a lanky unicorn with a white coat and light pink mane.  The unicorn was whimpering softly, clearly terrified.

"Now what?" Conrad whispered, quietly as possible.

"I'm working on that..."

Denise pondered the situation.  They were all changelings- that gave her and Con an advantage.  They could bluff their way into getting the pony out, but then again, they had no idea what was going on.

"Alright, follow my lead.  If worse comes to worst, get ready to move."

"Real specific, Dee," Con sighed with a roll of his eyes.

Slowly, Denise, eased her way to the corner.  Carefully, she stepped out from behind the counter, attempting to draw the changelings' attention.

"What the- Hey!"

Well, it worked.  The changelings snapped to attention, turning to face Denise.  Suddenly, a green-blue glow began to emanate from their curved horns, and two mean-looking daggers levitated in front of them, surrounded by an identical glow.  Magic.  Denise had forgotten about that.

'This could complicate things...' she thought to herself, stepping back defensively.

"Who the hell are you?!  How'd you get in here?"

'So they do have a few swear words in common with us...'

"Woah, calm down!" she stammered, "I came in through the sewers, alright?  Look, I don't want any trouble; we're all in the same boat here, right?"

"Oh, really?" sneered one of the changelings, telekinetically flourishing his dagger, "I dunno about that.  There's something funny 'bout you."

"Yeah," growled the other, "and not ha-ha funny, either.  Like a what's-up-with-your-eyes kinda funny."

"Yes, thank you, Mirror," groaned the first changeling, "I think she got that."

"My... Eyes?"

Wait- these changelings both had blue eyes- same hue, even- whereas Con had red eyes.  She must have had red eyes, too- but why was that a problem?

"Look," she sighed, "I'm lost, I'm tired, and I have no idea what's going on, so-"

Before she could finish her plea, a door on the opposite end of the room swung open, revealing a third changeling- again, with blue eyes.

"The hell's going on in here?  What's all this yelling about?"

"This girlie just came up outta the sewers," explained one of the thugs, "Says she's lost."

"Oh, yeah?" the third responded, "Somehow I doubt... that..."

He trailed off as he looked over Denise, eyes widening.

"Gods-damn him, the old bug was on to something..." muttered the third, taking a single step back.

Denise stared back, confused.

"Um, Shift?" asked one of the thugs, "What's wrong?  What's up with her eyes?"

Without warning, the third changeling, 'Shift', raised a knife of his own.

"KILL HER!"

The two thugs stared, bewildered, wondering what about the stranger had terrified their boss so thoroughly.  Denise used this to her advantage.

"CON, FUCKING MOVE!"

Everything happened in a flash.  The hostage let out a muffled scream as Con leaped over the counter, propelling himself forward with a quick buzz of his insect-like wings, while Denise rushed for the nearest thug.

"What the-"

Denise delivered a powerful kick to the changeling with her front legs, knocking him on his back and causing him to drop his blade.  In a flash, Denise was on top of him, pummeling his head with her hooves, crushing his skull in a fit of blind rage.  Adrenaline always did wonders for Denise, and apparently that hadn't changed after her transformation.

Eventually, the changeling's cries of pain fell silent, and Denise stepped back, breathing heavily.  Her head shot off to the left, searching for any remaining threats.

Instead, she saw Con, his horn alight with a red-orange aura, with a bloodied dagger, evidently taken from one of the thugs, levitating in front of him, and two very dead-looking changelings in front of him.

"Bloody hell, that was close..." he panted, "... Dee?  What're you staring at?"

"How are you..." she stammered, gesturing to her horn.

"Oh, what, this?" he asked, flourishing the knife telekinetically, "I figured it out in the sewers.  I mean, it took a few hours for me to find you, and I got bored, so..."

Wait, what? She had only been searching for him for a little under an hour, what was he-

~~~~~

"AAH!"

"AAAAH!

"AAAAAAH!"

~~~~~

Oh, yeah.

"I, uh, might've been out a bit longer than you."

"Really?  Well, it's not that hard, I can show you later-"

His explanation was interrupted by a muffled yelp.

"Oh, blimey, almost forgot about her..."

The duo rushed to the unicorn's side, eliciting yet another yelp.

"Woah, hey, we're not gonna hurt you," Denise assured the hostage, "We're gonna get you out of this."

Con's horn flared once again, removing the gag from her muzzle.

"P-please, don't kill me..." sobbed the unicorn.  Her voice was soft, and carried a distinct French accent.

"Shh, it's okay, we're here to help," Denise replied, trying to calm the mare.

"You... You're not going to hurt me?" the mare whimpered, surprised, "But... You're..."

"Changelings?"

The mare nodded.

"Yeah, well," Denise sighed, "not all changelings are psychos like these guys."

"Hey, I recognize you," Con said to the mare, "You're Fancypants' wife, right?"

"Fancypants?" Denise deadpanned- she recognized the name from the show, some rich noble snob, but still couldn't help being unimpressed by the name.

"Y-yes, Orion- Fancypants- is my husband.  My... My name is Fleur de Lis.  Wh- what's going on?"

"I don't know," Denise admitted, "We were lost in the sewer and found an old entrance that led to some wine cellar.  Then we overheard these goons," she gestured to the dead changelings, "and figured we'd lend you a ha- er, hoof."

"The sewer?" the unicorn replied, as Con cut away her restraints, "That... makes sense, I suppose- there was a landslide here several decades ago.  It buried most of the area- I suppose it's possible to break in from the old tunnels..."

"Look, we're still lost," Con explained, "if you could tell us where we are, exactly?"

"Oh- of... of course.  This is my home- me and Fancypants'- in the Garden district."

"... of?" Denise drawled, hoping for more information

"Why... Canterlot, of course.  Where else?"

"Er- yeah, well," Con replied, "we're... very lost."

"I can tell..."

"Wait," Denise interrupted, "You said this was your home?  Where's your husband?"

"Upstairs," replied Fleur, rising to her hooves, "They were going to keep me down here until Orion led them to where we keep our money- please, you have to help him!"

"Don't worry, we will," Con replied, "Where do you think they'd be now?"

"Probably in the lounge.  It's where we keep our safe- as long as he thinks they have me, he'll do whatever they want."

"Lounge, upstairs, got it," Denise repeated, "Stay here and wait for us.  We'll take care of these assholes."

"Th- thank you," Fleur sighed, "I'll come up when things quiet down- please, don't let anything happen to my husband!"

"We won't," Con assured her, "I promise."

~~~~~

Monday, April 21st, 1002 ANM

Canterlot, Equestria

Garden District, Fancypants' Mansion

"I have nothing against you changelings, but I swear, if you lay one hoof on my Fleur-"

"Shove it, Moneybags," growled the changeling behind him, telekinetically prodding him with a crossbow, "Just show us the bits."

Orion Rosewood Fancypants was not a pony to be trifled with, and these changelings were no exception.  Given the opportunity, he would have gladly shown these ruffians a thing or two about what he learned in the royal guard.  Unfortunately for him, they outnumbered him seven-to-one, and as much as it pained him to allow these thieves free reign of his home, he simply could not let harm befall his beloved Fleur de Lis.

"Giddy up, Moneybags, we don't have all day here!"

"Alright!" he growled, "The safe is behind the bookshelf, next to the fireplace."

The lounge had two entrances- one from the hallway, and one leading to the adjacent study.  It was a large, open room, designed to house a small party's worth of Canterlot nobility.  Large bookshelves lined parts of the wall, others covered in expensive-looking portraits and paintings, with comfortable seating tastefully scattered across the room, occasionally accompanied by fragile-looking lamps or decorative vases.

"Right, Pose, Pic!  Get to work moving the shelf.  The rest of you, keep an eye on Moneybags here.  I'm gonna check on the little missy."

The various changelings nodded, attending to their respective duties as their boss left the room.

"Still don't undersatnd why he gets to act like he's in charge," grumbled one of the changelings moving the bookshelf, 'Picture', "I mean, that's why we left old Morph, ain't it?"

"I know what you mean," growled the other, 'Pose' apparently, "I say that buzz-off's just as much of a wannabe-queen as the old bug was."

"Heh," chuckled Picture, "Imagine, a male queen."

"Ha, guess that'd make him a king, right?"

"Yeah, haha!"

The pair's shared laughter lasted only a moment, before being interrupted by a crash from outside.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and two red-eyed changelings burst through, one wielding a dagger, and the other armed only with a murderous look.

"What the hell-"

One of the changelings guarding Fancypants, a female, cried out, but was cut down before she could finish her exclamation.  The unarmed changeling, another female, pounced her, smashing the guard's head repeatedly with her forehooves.  The second red-eye launched himself forward as well, driving his dagger into one of the guard's necks.

Picture and Pose stood, shocked, unable to move.

"Wha-" Picture stammered, "What the hell is going on?!"

"Who cares!?" cried Pose, scampering towards a nearby window, "We gotta get outta here!"

Picture spared a quick look back at his four former allies- three, now- and made his decision.

"Never liked these jerks anyway..." he muttered to himself, shooting out of the window with a buzz of his wings.

~~~~~

Okay, that one was dead.

Denise backed off from the changeling she had pounced, turning to face Con.  He seemed to be holding his own against his second opponent, the other lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood.  That left the two by the bookcase, who she had seen fly out the window, and-

-Wham!-

... That guy.

Denise fell to the ground and rolled onto her back.  The last changeling stood above her, hovering a crossbow menacingly close to her head.  Denise squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for what would come next...

-Smash!-

-Thump!-

Her eyes shot open at the sound.  The changeling above her was bleeding from several small cuts on it's head, with what appeared to be shards of marble lodged in some of them, and was comically teetering back and forth.  It had dropped its crossbow, unable to focus its magic in its dazed state.

In her panic, adrenaline rushing through her veins, Denise lurched towards the crossbow.  Her horn erupted in a red-orange glow, and she smashed the grip of the weapon into the changeling's stomach, then the side of its head, knocking it to the ground with her.  Quickly, she scampered to her hooves, reversing their roles in mere seconds.

She took a moment to breath, keeping the crossbow aimed squarely at the changeling's head.  Suddenly, the changeling groaned, weakly lifting itself up on its forelegs, and looked up- directly into the tip of the crossbow bolt.

"NO, PLEA-"

The bolt shot through the changeling's head, pinning it to the floor.

In the excitement, Denise had failed to notice it, but now that things had calmed down, she was able to fully appreciate it- she had used her horn!  A slight smile spread across her face as she maneuvered the crossbow in front of her.  It was almost instinctual- a thoughtless action.  She just wanted to grab it, and she did.  How the hell did that work?

No, she'd save those questions for later.  Less thinking, more surviving.

Breathing heavily, Denise turned again to Con.  He had finished off is opponent, and was now struggling to telekinetically dislodge his dagger from the corpse.

'Wait,' she thought, 'if he's doing that, then what-'

"A-hem."

She turned sharply, coming face-to-face with a white, blue-maned unicorn much larger than her.  His horn was aglow with a golden aura, and next to him floated a smashed marble bust, covered in the same glow.

"Well," she heard Con sigh from behind her, "That was fun.  In a twisted, horrible, not-fun-at-all kind of way."

"I'll have to agree on that," sighed the unicorn, gently placing the bust back on its stand, "I never though I'd see a brawl like that again- not since I left the guard at any rate...  Now, if you two 'good sa-mare-itans' could explain why, exactly, you've come to my rescue, I would be much obliged."

Denise turned to look at the mess she and Con had left in their wake, before turning back to look the Unicorn straight in the eye.

"Mister," she sighed, "I have no goddamn idea."