The Safety Bell was Silent

Chapters

In Which a Crime is Announced
In Which a Few Visits are Made
In Which a Perfectly Good Breakfast is Ruined
In Which the Tide Comes In
In Which a Conclusion is Drawn
Epilogue

In Which a Crime is Announced

Chapter 1: In Which a Crime is Announced

Some notes on a former client's first impression of Scarlet Letter:

A young earth pony mare, perhaps in her twenties, perhaps a bit past. A well-trimmed coat, orange in color. A mane and tail of dark-brown hair, perpetually unkempt, the enemy of every groomer and stylist in the land as well as many brushes. Her cutie mark is apparently unrelated to her profession, and appears to be a bright gold butterfly alighted on the edge of an open novel with a rose growing from the page. Bright eyes, constantly darting about a room as if trying to take in every detail at once. Her voice is a bit deeper than expected for such a small mare. Highly animated, prone to sudden emotional outbursts as well as periodic lapses into awkward silence. Winces in bright light. In short: not a favorable first impression.

Scarlet Letter's opinion of her client's description: "This is why I prefer to work by correspondence."

It began at eight-thirty in the morning, as Scarlet's days usually did.

Life, in her opinion, was a series of challenges to overcome and puzzles to solve when you reduced it down to its base elements. The most difficult of these were the ones you encountered so often that solving them no longer resulted in a sense of satisfaction. For instance: convincing yourself that it is better to wake up at a reasonable hour and accomplish something productive than to spend the rest of the morning with your face in a pillow and a warm blanket pulled over your head. At this point the act of convincing herself was so time-consuming a task it nearly drove her further under the covers.

Still, it was Tuesday, and Tuesdays were always a little bit easier to wake up for. So she steeled herself and solved the puzzle using the most expedient solution: kicking her nice, warm blanket halfway across the room. It floated through the air for a moment before draping itself over a haphazardly assembled pile of novels sat in the middle of her bedroom floor.

She dragged herself out of bed with protestations and set about the task of making ready for the day. This, too, was a puzzle with an expedient solution: always start with the ritual of the morning brew. She could do, and had done, this relatively elaborate task in her sleep. Wander to the kitchen. Find the jug of filtered water. Avoid the broom she had knocked over while making dinner last night. Pour the water into her automated Quick Fix's Self-Fixin' Kettle(tm). Tap the little ruby at its base to energize the thaumic coil. Watch in blissful glee as steam began to rise.

Find the cabinet. Move the box of expired cereal she had forgotten to throw out. Find the tea chest. Measure the leaves into the strainer. Pour the kettle just as the water finished boiling. Allow herself a few precious moments to yawn as the leaves steeped. Discard leaves. Lift teacup to lips and—

A small 'fwoomph' sound came from the living room. Scarlet frowned. It was far too early. Usually the 'fwoomph' waited until at least nine-thirty. If it happened now she would either have to wait to investigate it or interrupt the morning brew, both horrible options. She allowed herself to return to sipping her tea. If the morning 'fwoomph' was going to be so inconsiderate as to be early, it would simply have to wait until her timetable found it convenient. It said on her flier that she kept her own hours, and she had meant that, damn it.

Instead of walking through the opposite door of the kitchenette into her living-room-cum-office, she set her kettle to boil again and made her way back to her bedroom, where she freed the tower of novels from their blanket prison and began searching for her copy of Market Crash

It was ten in the morning and she was halfway through her third cup of tea by the time she finished reading Market Crash. She had become quite enamored with Short Stock's novels since he had published Lyre's Poker four years ago, and his latest novel was superior in almost every way. To think though—publically traded companies selling financial products backed by mortgages? What utter insanity! No regulatory agency in Equestria would have ever allowed the scheme to get started.

She sighed as she set the book down. It was about time, she supposed, to deal with the 'fwoomph'. She rather disliked cases she got via 'fwoomph'. Every so often she got one with enough intrigue she half-wanted to write a novel about it—girls, police chases, dastardly schemes, a twist in the third act and all.

Most of the time, though, they were rather dull. "Miss L., my husband has been spending far too much time with the colt down the street with the golden mane. I worry he's cheating on me—how can I tell?" "Miss L., last night someone stole my wife's heirloom silver—and I just know it was the help!" "Miss L., last night during our weekly bridge game, someone slipped poison joke into my aunt's tea"—and so on and so forth.

The problem with taking business from Canterlot clientele when cases were interesting was that they recommended you to their friends if you did well, and their friends recommended you to yet more friends, and soon you were overwhelmed by case after case that did not fit your services well. And that meant writing letter after letter patiently explaining that you were an official consultant specializing in fraud but willing to dabble outside it, not a private investigator willing to stalk someone's spouse.

Scarlet's living room was a wreck, as usual. The two short bookshelves by the kitchen door hadn't been dusted in a week, the rug was rumpled and still bore mud-stains from when she had walked home through that rainstorm three days ago, and the bronze statue of a dragon in the corner badly needed polishing.

She inspected the dragon statue's claws. Sure enough, the day's 'fwoomph' was between them: a letter, rolled into a small tube, tied with red ribbon, and marked with a wax seal indicating the noble house of origin. She recognized this one as being House Blueblood's which was something of a relief. The Prince rarely wasted her time when he requested her services, and unlike some minor houses he at least paid his fee on time when she accepted his cases. She'd used the proceeds from the last one to buy the very magic-mail statute this letter arrived via.

Breaking the seal, she studied the letter's contents and sighed. Not a waste of her time, but nothing exciting either. A simple case of blackmail. Blueblood had invited a few guests to a rather intimate party the week before. Now he had received an anonymous letter asking for money and informing him that should he fail to pay, photos would be leaked to the press of him in a rather compromising position, which Scarlet assumed meant that photos had been taken with the escort on top this time.

Really, it was all rather dull. Blueblood himself would be thoroughly confused about the solution, but that was because for all his good points he was never any good at understanding how ponies thought. At their core, ponies were puzzles too intricate puzzles , personalized to each mare and stallion, but puzzles nonetheless. If you removed everything extraneous and focused on what mattered most to your case, it was easy to build a model for how they would act—or react.

It shouldn't take long to solve Blueblood's problem at all—a quick scan of the guest list and what they had said to him before dinner would probably clear it up. She scribbled a request for further information on the back of his original note and placed the letter back in the dragon's claws before pressing its nose. There was a sudden 'fwoomph' as it sent out a small jet of green flame from its jaws which consumed the paper completely.

Scarlet stretched and sighed. She had caught up on her last three cases. What now? It was Tuesday, which meant—she was forgetting something, she knew. Was it her day to take the afternoon shift at Quills and Sofas—no, she had been let go the week before after arguing with the owner about prices. Job search day again? No, she'd dropped off her resume at Herbal Remedy's tea bazaar, she was a shoo-in there, it was just a matter of waiting. Conjure the Meeting club—no that wasn't until Friday. What was special about today?

She trundled back to the kitchen. No matter what it was, she'd remember it by the fourth cup of tea, she was sure.

She was about nine cups of tea into the day by five o'clock and hadn't remembered a thing. Still, the day had been productive enough. She had remembered to throw out that box of cereal for one thing, finished off the leftover pasta from last night, and rebuilt her Conjure deck a few dozen times before sleeving it up for the end of the week. She had even found time to let Blueblood know how to deal with his little extortion problem. Now she was curled up on her bed and mulling through her copy of The Mare Named Stardust Comet for roughly the three-hundredth time. Really, it was evenings like this that made life feel—

A sound from the living room, this time a 'thwump, thwump.'

That wasn't good. A 'fwoomph' from the living room could be annoying at the wrong time of day, but it was mail. Mail was ultimately easy enough to deal with. A 'thwump' meant the door knocker which meant company which meant trying to act presentable. Acting presentable was exhausting. Acting presentable meant trying not to be too excited or unusual, and it meant being charming. She could do charming sometimes, but it was hard and it always felt forced and strange and never lasted. With a sigh, she pulled herself away from her novel and raised her voice. "Who is it?"

She couldn't quite hear what was said but she knew the speaker instantly. The voice was muted, hushed, low and musical. And that only meant one thing.

Scarlet was instantly seized by a sense of desperation and panic as she fell out of bed onto her side painfully.

No. This was not good. She had one job.

Tuesday. Tuesday was date night. Date night meant Perique. Perique meant making everything perfect. If it was not perfect Perique might not be happy and unhappy Perique would be the worst thing in history. What had she done—had she done anything? Dishes. She had done dishes! No—no she hadn't, she'd washed a few plates but they were still in the sink. Sweeping? She had swept the—no, that was last Tuesday she had done that. Cleaning up the books—

Her eyes swept through her room, for the first time taking note of just how many piles of dog-eared paperbacks she had accumulated.

Nothing. She had done nothing. Luna and Celestia above she had let an entire day—probably an entire week slip by again. She was a bad pony. Why was she such a bad pony? She had one job, one simple job. How could she make up for this? She couldn't. She'd apologize. Or something. No that would be no good. Meet Perique at the door and tell her not to come in—no that was rude she couldn't be rude to Perique. Perique was—

"Is everything alright in there, Scarlet?"

Oh no. Perique was worried and she'd let herself in. Scarlet panicked—it must have been the noise she made falling off her bed. This was no good. There were no solutions left, only screaming panic and crisis. Maybe honorable suicide—but then Perique would be sad so that would also be a terrible solution. It was over life was over she was going to be so disappointed and oh no hoofsteps were getting closer and—

Scarlet felt a hoof gently tap her on the shoulder and hit an octave she'd thought previously impossible for her to reach as she shrieked in surprise, scrambling under her bed.

"Scarlet?"

Slowly, her body shaking with fear and embarrassment gnawing at the pit of her stomach, Scarlet poked her head out from under her bed.

Some notes on Perique Blend the batpony, as made by Scarlet Letter:

She walks like a pony who has no idea how beautiful she is, when if she simply spread her wings and chose to strut around town like a noble more than a few ponies might kneel before her on reflex. She says her mane and tail knot and she has trouble keeping them in order, but at most I count a few adorable curls in that flowing orange. She is gentle and kind, and never tries to stare back at you or demands that you meet her gaze, and instead smiles whenever you find the courage to do so. Her tufted ears are so expressive, her coat is lustrous, her voice a low song I can't help but want to hum along with, and every time I talk to her I feel guilty she ever fell for me. Because no pony like me deserves a mare as perfect as her, and if asked to choose between her and Luna as princess of the night I'd indict myself for treason.

Perique Blend's reaction to these notes when allowed access to Scarlet's private diary: "Oh. Gosh."

Scarlet felt herself tearing up as she slowly crawled out from under the bed. "Perique.. Perique oh my, I'm, Luna above, I'm so sorry—" she cut herself off as Perique cringed back reflexively. "Oh no that's right you don't like when we use the princess's names like that oh my—my word I'm, no, I, this—"

Scarlet shut her mouth as a leathery wing caressed her lips, silencing her. "Shhhh. Sshhhh. Calm thyself, little one," Perique cooed, using her wings to pet Scarlet and gentle her until her panic passed.

Scarlet let herself nuzzle against Perique's side, enjoying her touch. "I'm... I'm so... mess...sorry," she managed, finding it hard to choke the words through the ball of anxiety in her throat.

"Mess? Little one, thy mess is nothing but organized disorder. I'll invite thee to my smoking-room Tuesday next and give you a look at my notes for the next Scrivener novel's plot, and there will be a mess worthy of thy panic," Perique chuckled, playfully nibbling at Scarlet's ears as she continued soothing the panicked mare.

Scarlet slowly processed everything. Perique was here. Perique did not absolutely and utterly hate her because her house was a mess and she hadn't done any real work on a Tuesday. She was okay. Things were somehow okay. Perique had even lapsed into Old Colony-speak the way she always did when she began flirting. And called her little one. Perique was calling her little one. With a sigh of relief she pressed herself against the batpony. "T-thank you. M'sorry. I'll be okay."

Perique raised an eyebrow and waited a moment.

Scarlet ventured further. "I'll be okay... Miss?"

"There's a good girl."

Scarlet felt her cheeks light up with embarrassment. Several months into the relationship and it was still like this. She was smitten, good and hard.

"Shall we take a walk, little Scarlet? I have heard the moon will be unusually clear tonight, with the clouds needed for the great storm over in south Canterlot."

Scarlet nodded and nuzzled under Perique's chin, enjoying the warmth and the closeness. "I'd like that."

"And that is when yon priest of the night-mother does explain why he was bold enough to smash a few windows in the course of his evening walk."

Scarlet frowned. "Oof. You weren't joking—that is a bit of a mess. Are you sure the third act with the policemen is completely necessary?"

Perique sighed. "I was worried about that. Thy judgment is usually correct in such cases." Her wings drooped as her lips curled into a frown. "Perhaps I should scrap this one, begin with a new premise entirely—"

"My judgment is sometimes correct in these cases," Scarlet interrupted, pressing herself close to her marefriend and nuzzling her. "Not always! And I think it's super solid, it's just that I feel like the undercover policemen thing is going to get really confusing and it's probably not worth including just to reference The Mare who was Thursday."

Perique's dour expression broke as she chuckled, spreading her wing to hug Scarlet close. "See, thy sensibilities are quite often correct, down to naming my inspiration without me telling you—thou little minx."

Scarlet felt her cheeks flush as Perique leaned over to nibble the tip of one of her ears. It was all she could do to remain upright instead of falling to the ground and asking her marefriend to please take care of her right then and there, on a dirt lane by the edge of Whitetail Woods.

"Thou'rt thinking of asking me to take thee right here, on the edge of the woods, little one," Perique whispered into Scarlet's ear with a low growl.

"Was not," Scarlet said a bit too quickly. Then thought better of it. "Was. Yes. Absolutely was." She scuffed at the dirt with her hooves. There had been a reason she hadn't wanted to do it right here though. What was it? Was there any good reason to stop Perique from leaning over and nibbling the base of her neck, and stroking her flank, and oh heavens that felt delicious, and now she was being tackled and— "I remember now!" Scarlet blurted suddenly.

"Remember what, little one?" Perique had already forced Scarlet to the ground and now stood above her, her muzzle less than an inch from Scarlet's ear.

Scarlet grinned sheepishly. "Um... guess who completely forgot her collar in the aftercare room last time we were at the Society?"

Perique withdrew, chuckling, and Scarlet couldn't help whining in disappointment. "Well then, little minx, we'll have to discuss thy punishment on the way there, won't we?"

Scarlet felt her thought processes come to a screeching halt. She mumbled a barely-audible reply, knowing what Perique's response would be.

Sure enough, the batpony smiled down at her, only a little condescendingly. "What was that, little girl?"

"Y-yesmama," Scarlet mumbled, just a bit louder.

"There's a good girl. Now stay close and don't wander off. Tonight, thou and I shall enjoy all the pleasures."

"meep,"

Some notes on the Clocktower Society, made by Scarlet about a month after being accepted:

Big. Almost too big. It's a miracle the club is still even remotely secret. I think half of Ponyville is secretly a member. Actually, I'm pretty sure half the population of Canterlot are members. At least, all the rich ponies with time on their hooves are. I can't decide whether this is too much of a good thing or the best thing I've ever encountered.

This place was built by the kind of ponies who don't understand what "overkill" means, who build research labs for elaborate sex toys, comission architects to raise false cities to simply chase ponies through, and convert an elaborate cavern system into a transit route for the closest thing we have to social workers. And since I've been here, not one pony has told me I'm an annoyance, or a mess, or disgusting. When I can't look somepony in the eye, the worst they've done is turn it into an excuse to play out the scene a bit more. I'm not the strange pony here. I'm... normal.

Scarlet's addendum to her own notes, written a month after the fact:

In retrospect, I'm not sure if that says more about the ponies who built this place, or me.

The Clocktower Society was a veritable garden of earthly delights for an aspiring kinkster. Travel down one path and you could indulge in faux slave-auctions, complete with branding and transport for those truly committed to their kayfabe. Down another and you would reach the Storytellers guild, willing to temporarily implant new memories or personalities for a nominal fee, guaranteed purgeable at any point. Down still another and you could play the frightened prey in the City, running from particularly predatory dominants until they tracked you down and used you to their satisfaction.

In Scarlet's opinion, all of these were wonderful additions with their own charm but ultimately window dressing. The best place in the Society was beneath the feet of your mistress, wherever she happened to be at the time.

So it was that she found herself curled under a small table on the outskirts of the City, near a little cafe called the Hard Day's Night, enjoying the smell of fragrant herbal teas drifting from the cups set in front of its customers. It served as a bit of an intermediary ground between a full play area and an aftercare room, a place for dominants to gather and show off their obedient little pets to each other while enjoying a nice non-alcoholic drink, often a Clocktower-specialty "clocktail" potion but just as often a delicious tea or coffee.

In the case of a good little sub like herself, it was also an occasion to show how grateful one could be to her top.

Perique was only partially visible to her, seated as the batpony was in a chair by the table. Her hindlegs and hooves were all Scarlet could easily access from her position, curled beneath the table with her forehooves cuffed together and a leash and collar around her neck to remind her to be a good pet. But even with Perique out of sight, it was easy enough for an eager pet to show her devotion. Scarlet leaned her neck forward and began lapping at Perique's hooves, trying her best not to visibly gag in case her mistress looked down.

Hooves, like many things where sex was concerned, were more fun to eat than to taste. Perique was tidy enough to clean hers semi-regularly but even then Scarlet could taste the flavors of the dirt trail they had walked down, the sharp bite of the grass they'd lain in, and a slightly funky after-taste which never quite seemed to go away and which she was slightly embarrassed to ask Perique about. In short: they tasted terrible, and a regular pony would never in a million years take pleasure in cleaning them by tongue.

Perique lifted her left hoof and Scarlet slipped her entire mouth around it.

Good pets didn't worry about flavor, or after-taste. Good pets showed how much they loved being disciplined, and gentled, and trained. Tasting mama Perique's hooves was part of showing her devotion. The more she could do, the longer she could keep her tongue in place, the happier she knew Perique would be, and Perique being happy was wonderful, and magical, and perfect.

As if reading her sub's mind, Perique reached down at that moment and began to scritch just behind Scarlet's left ear. The earth pony felt her entire mind melt into an explosion of color and warmth and happiness as she let everything else go. Mama Perique was happy with her. She was being Very Good. Very Good little pets got rewards and—

"Clockface."

Scarlet blinked in surprise. Clockface? It was rare for ponies to use the "pause" safeword in an area like this, where most scenes were affectionate rather than disciplinary in nature. What's more, despite the voice coming from near her table, it hadn't been Perique's. Something must be wrong.

It was about at this moment of coming down suddenly from her obedience high that she realized Perique's hoof was still deep in her mouth, and didn't taste any better than when she had started. She spat it out hastily and gagged, trying to remove the aftertaste from her mouth.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your fun like this, but something serious has occurred, and we're trying to gather information."

Scarlet emerged from beneath the table to get a good look at the speaker, a bright yellow unicorn with a silver mane. It was her hoofcuffs which interested Scarlet more than anything- she could tell from the clasps and design that the speaker was a den mother, one of the many traveling aftercare-specialists and caretakers of the Society. A den mother interrupting play to make inquiries wasn't just a bit unusual, it was worrying.

"What seems to be the problem?" Perique asked, her proud smile evaporating into a look of concern.

"Does anyone here know a unicorn by the name of Floral Fragrance?:

Nopony at the cafe responded in the affirmative.

"She's a unicorn mare with...": The den mother leaned down and tapped the Pipsub device on her right foreleg, bringing up a description. "...a teal coat and pink mane, and wears a red collar. Her cutie mark is three flowers surrounding a perfume bottle. Have any of you seen a sub matching that description recently?"

Scarlet racked her memories. Teal coat and pink mane weren't enough to go on—she'd seen two ponies that might apply to since coming to the society that night alone, and there were many, many red-collared submissives. Unicorn mare narrowed things down some though, and the cutie mark was fairly distinct. Try as she might, she couldn't remember seeing anypony matching that description. "Why do you ask?" she ventured.

The den mother sighed. "It's alright. We're trying to follow her movements tonight. Everypony, I have some very troubling news."

Scarlet's breath caught in her throat. She'd never heard a den mother talk this way before. This wasn't just a minor worry or infraction then. Something capital-W Wrong had occurred. She fumbled with her society-issue hoofcuffs, easily unclipping them—she'd learned how to do that on her own in case of emergency in her first week there—as she listened.

"Earlier this evening, Miss Fragrance was found in the Borderlands area by one of our dominants. She was gagged and her Pipsub appeared to be malfunctioning. When we picked her up, one of the Torch Legion members found cotton wadding stuffed into her safety bell."

The cafe erupted with collective gasps and shrieks of near-horror. Scarlet looked at Perique, who had removed her dominant's mask and now looked stricken with terror and far too tense, as if worried about an unseen attacker.

The Clocktower Society was governed by three simple principles: All sexual activity, regardless of the level of intricacy involved, must be safe, sane, and consensual.

Consensual was a given, of course: At any time either a dominant or submissive felt a scene was too intense or uncomfortable, they had the right to pause it, slow it down, or end it entirely through the use of the three Society safewords.

Sane and Safe, however, were a bit more difficult in implementation for such a large organization. This was what had led to the development of the society's intricate color-coded collar and mask system, but also to the safety bell and pipsub, both of which could be used to communicate when a submissive was unable to speak. Three rings on a tail bell could end a scene as easily as a safeword, and every society member had been drilled to never silence a submissive without first checking their bell.

A gagged submissive with a silenced bell was worrying enough in its implications. A gagged submissive with a silenced bell in the Borderlands, where consent was implied unless safewords were invoked, was the stuff of nightmares.

Scarlet felt the blood begin to drain from her face.

One of the other submissives in attendance, a pegasus mare, raised her voice. "Was—was she—"

"No, thank the Flame," the den mother replied. "The first dominant who found her was quite observant and one of our more experienced members. He noticed her reactions were unusual and called Clockface to make sure she was alright. That's when he discovered the sabotage. She's currently recovering in one of our medical wings, and her pipsub and bell are currently being investigated further to determine the nature of the sabotage."

Scarlet frowned. One of the details here seemed... off. She raised her hoof. "Miss?"

"Yes?" The den mother looked down at Scarlet, still half-hidden under the table. "Do you have information related to this?"

"Not exactly, but I was wondering something." Scarlet tilted her head. "Did anypony check to make sure the enchantments on the safety bell were intact?"

The den mother blinked in surprise and nodded. "The first Torch Legion member on the scene did. He wasn't able to do a full scan but according to him, he saw no signs that the enchantments had been tampered with in any way."

"Interesting," Scarlet muttered before she could stop herself.

"If everypony else is satisfied, I'm going to return to check up on Miss Fragrance. If you remember anything or find more information which could be related to this incident, please bring it directly to the nearest den mother, guard, or legionnaire. Remember: in this society, safewords are law. Conspiring to harm another pony in this way goes against every foundational belief of the Clocktower Society." The den mother bowed her head. "For now, I suggest you all do your best to enjoy the rest of your evening."

She turned to leave, cantered a few steps away, and paused. "Ah, and I almost forgot: Clockface. You may resume play."

The cafe erupted with a buzz of whispers and rumors as Scarlet sat on her haunches, puzzling through what she had just heard.

The Clocktower Society was as secure a location as she had ever encountered. She had never seen an organization with as many byzantine rules and safeguards to ensure that as few ponies as possible came to harm during what was an inherently risky and stressful way to enjoy oneself. And tonight, somepony had almost managed to find a way to flout all of them—and maliciously, at that.

She looked at Perique who, despite the scene technically still being in progress again, was shivering. Perique had been to the borderlands before, when she wasn't playing mistress. Scarlet could only imagine what she was thinking—there were already members of the society who privately worried about the kind of ponies who enjoyed rape-play. To hear that ponies Perique might very well know had almost become accomplices in a real crime...

Scarlet gritted her teeth, then moved to her marefriend's side and nuzzled her. "Perique, I'm going to find her. And I'm going to make her sorry she ever messed with this place."

Perique's expression was a bit vacant, and her voice had fallen into the same hushed tones she usually spoke in rather than her Old Colony-tinted flirting-voice. "Who?"

"The rat-bastard. The bitch who did it. Our culprit. In fact..." Scarlet unclipped her own leash, gently setting it down—the time for being submissive was not the present, apparently. "If I may have everypony's attention," she announced in her loudest stage voice, leaping atop the table, "my name is Scarlet Letter, my trade is consulting detective, and I hereby declare I will solve the case of the Silent Bell in a week's time! I'll stake my reputation on it!"

She winced. That was too far, wasn't it? Based on the expressions of the ponies staring at her, almost definitely too far. Which meant Perique would be embarrassed or angry so she'd probably ruined everything and was now a good time to commit honorable suicide? Probably but then—

Oh wait Perique was hugging her really tight which was probably a good sign.

Perique nuzzled her cheek against Scarlet's. "We should probably go," she whispered into her sub's ear.

"This is a delightful idea and I am glad someone else thought of it," Scarlet replied, breaking into a trot as they hastily made their exit.

"Well, now I've done it. I'm sure at least one of the ponies back there is a member of my clientele from the big Flim-Flam Bridge to Manehattan scam thing," Scarlet complained as she nuzzled against Perique. The two had retired to the batpony's home for the night, and were now snuggled deep into her featherbed with a comfy blanket pulled over them. "I'm going to look really silly now if I don't solve this case by the deadline."

"You're taking it seriously then?" Perique asked. "The torch legion and den mothers have things covered. You don't need to do this."

Scarlet frowned. "But I want to do this."

"Why?"

Scarlet sighed. She'd known that this was coming. "Because you looked scared back there, and when you're taking care of me you do such a good job making me feel safe and loved that I wanted to do the same thing for you. And because the Society's important to me, too. And if I'm being really honest... it's a challenge. I haven't had a real challenge in such a long time." She bit her lip. "I was afraid I'd get rusty."

Perique chuckled, kissing Scarlet's forehead. "The thought is appreciated then."

“But I shouldn't have spoken up like I did," Scarlet grumbled, digging herself deeper into the bed. "If I only have a week to wrap things up then I'm going to need to go knocking on doors and doing interviews instead of sending out letters and waiting for replies, and knocking on doors means I'm going to need to find somepony to be my muscle in case one of the suspects decides to throw their weight around."

Perique blinked. "That should be easy, shouldn't it? What about your other other half?"

"Gilda?" Scarlet blushed. "Yeah, this is normally something I'd ask for her help with, but she's up in Griffonstone working on some kind of job that I'm like, eighty percent certain is mostly legal. She won't be back until the end of the month."

Perique smiled. "Well then, I suppose I'll have to play the Dim Bulb to your Smart Cookie this time, won't I?"

"You?" Scarlet scooted back, aghast. "No, nononono. You are way too sweet and kind and perfect to be backup muscle, you might get hurt—"

Perique's smile turned into a predatory grin and Scarlet realized exactly how badly she had screwed up as the batpony reared up in her bed, the covers falling away as she spread her wings and exposed her very sharp-looking fangs. For a moment, Scarlet remembered what the batponies of the Old Colony were once rumored to be, and felt a delicious tremble run through her.

Perique knelt close, her lips just shy of Scarlet's exposed neck. "I received mandatory militia training, little one. I polish my hoof-blades every night. Do you doubt that I can be properly imposing when the time comes?"

Scarlet gulped and looked up into her marefriend's eyes. "...no ma'am."

"Good girl," Perique purred, and bit down into Scarlet's throat hard enough to leave a mark.

The two didn't sleep until much later that night.

Author's Note

Special thanks to all my pre-readers for putting up with me on this one.

As of this writing, we have three of my planned six chapters completed, with updates coming sometime in the next week or so. Sex will not be announced in chapter titles but hidden within like a shiny present.

In Which a Few Visits are Made

Chapter Two: In Which a Few Visits Are Made

Scarlet waited anxiously outside the door to the hospital room, kicking her legs as she leafed through one of the many magazines left for visitors and only half paying attention. She supposed it made sense that Floral Fragrance would end up here: close to her home, a little better equipped than most of the surrounding hospitals, and absolutely swarming with Clocktower Society members who would be well-trained to help her recover from the shock she was going through. You could certainly do worse than Ponyville General.

Fortunately, the staff could also be quite gullible. A sob story here, a mention of a family reunion there, and she had easily convinced everyone she had talked to so far that she was a cousin of the patient who desperately wanted to make sure her beloved family member was alright. Too easy.

Scarlet shifted uncomfortably in her chair as the minutes dragged by.

Really, it was only a half lie.

She should've waited until Perique could come too. The batpony's presence wasn't necessary for this kind of interview, but this hospital was too brightly lit, and smelled too much like disinfectant, and it was lonely.

Scarlet hated feeling lonely. "Lonely" was what happened when you got tired of being alone, opened your door to go look for company, and realized just how few ponies actually cared whether you were there in the first place. Scarlet didn't feel the need to open that door very often, and didn't care to think of what that said about her.

She tried to take the edge off by focusing on the magazine in her hooves, but "How Does Your Garden Grow?" was a blisteringly dull read and her brain already felt half-strangled. She gave up about halfway through a column on garden arrangements written by somepony fascinated by seashells and pebbles. Perhaps this was her karmic punishment for lying her way in.

Then the door to Floral's room opened, the nurse stepped out, and Scarlet realized she had been horribly wrong about what her karmic punishment was.

"I really should have known it was you the moment the receptionist told me that Floral had a cousin here to see her," Nurse Redheart sighed.

Scarlet ran through her list of potential strategies. Bluffing? Bad idea, her cover was now compromised. Panic and run? Attractive, but liable to attract the wrong kind of attention and also counterproductive to her end goals. Apologize? Too easy. Seduce the nurse? Maybe but that would likely involve her ending up in worse trouble than she was in already, Nurse Redheart knew how to use a cane.

In the absence of an actual strategy, her brain defaulted to a tried and tested time-filling maneuver. "Ummmm....."

"That's what I thought. Tell me, did you actually think this plan through, or did you just assume nopony was going to have a problem with you lying your way in to interrogate a patient who has just gone through a rather nasty shock?" Redheart asked, glaring at the smaller earth pony.

It occurred to Scarlet that discarding a solution as "too easy" was a great way to fail to solve a puzzle. "I'm... sorry?" she managed, wincing at how disingenuous it sounded, even to her.

Redheart rolled her eyes. "No, you aren't. You weren't sorry the last three times you lied your way in here to talk to a patient either. Frankly, I'm not sure you know how to be sorry."

Somewhere in the back of Scarlet's mind a tiny little voice spoke up, reminding her that crying in public right before questioning somepony was a bad idea. She paid attention to the voice and didn't cry. The noise she made instead was a stifled sniffle, if that.

If Nurse Redheart noticed, she didn't care. "You've done this one too many times, Scarlet Letter, and if it were up to me I'd ban you from the premises for breaching patient privacy. You could wind up causing serious pain to somepony someday, and I think you know that. What bothers me is you don't seem to care."

Crying was still a very bad idea. Making herself very small and looking straight at the ground was alright, though.

"And do you know what makes me angrier than anything?" Redheart asked, clearly winding up for her big finish. "What really bothers me?" She paused meaningfully.

Scarlet bit her lip. Was this a trick question? She'd left it hanging, it was definitely a trick question. Was it the kind of trick question you were supposed to answer? That was harder. "Ummmmm..."

Fortunately, Redheart continued of her own accord. "It's that I'm going to let you get away with it anyway."

"...why?"

"Why? Two reasons." Redheart was clearly enjoying her moment in the spotlight as she confidently strutted forward so her face was only a few inches from Scarlet's. "First, even if you lied to get away with it your questions do end up getting things found out that much faster." She left another meaningful pause after this sentence.

This time, Scarlet knew what her line was supposed to be. "And the second reason?"

"Because Floral Fragrance is my friend." With that, she turned on her hoof and marched away, her hoof-falls echoing through the corridor.

Scarlet looked at her own hooves and let a confused wave of emotions wash over her. When she was about thirty percent satisfied she wouldn't start crying, she steeled herself and walked into the open room.

Floral Fragrance looked much as the den mother had described her last night. About Scarlet's age—no, a bit younger. Her bubblegum-pink mane was fairly well in place despite her ordeal, speaking to the amount of care she must have put into maintaining it. And her cutie mark was certainly distinct—not many ponies around here with a special talent for scents. Scarlet focused, etching as many details as she could into her mind.

Marks just above her forehooves, deep scratches. Scarlet knew what welts from a crop or cane looked like, and these were different. Dark circles under her eyes—sleepless nights, which made sense. She was dealing with shock. And she wasn't responding quickly. Scarlet had been here for at least thirty seconds now, but Floral was only just now turning to see her. Not a great sign.

Floral raised her head from her pillow and regarded Scarlet with confusion. "You are...?"

Scarlet thought about her answer for a moment and decided on something that would hopefully help Nurse Redheart hate her a little less. "A friend. I think." She cantered forward and sat on her haunches, bringing her head level with Floral's. "I'm also in the Society, and I'm helping look for the pony who hurt you."

"Mmm." Floral looked away, refusing to meet Scarlet's eyes. The silence stretched out between them until it grew into a blanket that smothered them uncomfortably.

Scarlet shifted in place and tried again. "Do you... do you think you could talk about what happened?"

"Mmm."

No purchase. Scarlet bit her lip. Perique would have been able to do this much better, she should have sent her instead. "I..." she searched for something to say. Ponies were hard when they went quiet. "It's a good thing the griffon who found you could tell something was wrong, right?"

Floral reacted visibly for the first time, starting in surprise. "How did you know he was a griffon?"

Scarlet relaxed a bit. She had a reaction. Conversations got so much easier when there was a reaction. "These." She pointed to Floral's forehooves, indicating the marks. "I've been a sub long enough to know what burn marks from restraints and welts from crops look like. Those scratches are claw marks. Plus, I've been dating a griffon for a few years now." She felt a pang as she finished that last sentence. Gilda would also have been nice to have here with her—not as much help talking to a bedridden patient, but at least she would've helped her stand up to Nurse Redheart.

Floral, too, seemed to relax as she pulled her covers up over herself. "...I don't really remember anything from last night, if that's what you're asking about. The den mothers said I'd gone through a severe shock, and it might take time for everything to come back. If it even does."

Scarlet frowned. "So you can't remember who you talked to that night?"

"I remember putting on my collar after I got to the Society. After that, it's all a blur. Grant found me in the Borderlands and he said he could tell I was out of it as soon as he pounced on me. I vaguely remember him calling Clockface, and then..." she sighed. "I woke up after with a lot of ponies asking me questions I don't know the answers to."

Scarlet couldn't tell why she felt so sad hearing that. One reason was, of course, how awful it sounded. A nasty little voice in her head that sounded a bit like Nurse Redheart wondered if it was because of the quality of information she'd just been given. She pushed past it. "So you don't remember anything? Who you met before, anypony you talked to, the face of the dom who found you? Any of it?"

"I remember enough to know you should probably just give up." Floral turned on her side, facing away from Scarlet. "I think I know who the culprit is, and even if you could prove it there's not much you, or anypony else can do."

Oh. She hadn't expected that. Scarlet had assumed this was more of an observational meeting. She stifled her urge to chuckle. All this preparation, all these probing questions she had prepared in the back of her mind, and here was the victim claiming she had a suspect in mind! It was enough to make a detective weep. She leaned closer to Floral, gently touching her shoulder. "Who do you suspect? You'd be surprised what I—what the Society can do."

Floral continued to stare at the wall.

Scarlet frowned. Well, so much for that. Floral's silence alone was telling, however. Did it indicate a member of the Society in good standing, then? Scarlet realized with more than a twinge of excitement that this was a possibility she hadn't accounted for. Lost in her thoughts she turned to take her leave. Maybe a member of the Legion? That would be—

"It's me."

Scarlet paused, her forehoof halfway out the door. "Come again?"

"Me. It's obvious isn't it?" Floral continued to stare away at the wall. "There's no other explanation that makes sense. My PipSub and my bell were both sabotaged, and only I would have the opportunity to do that. They said my bell had its enchantments intact, right? It should've rung even if it was silenced then. So—" she began to sniffle, "so the only e-expl...explanation that makes sense is if I—"

"That's stupid," Scarlet said before she could help herself.

Floral turned to her, her face a mask of confusion layered with anguish. "What?"

Scarlet took a deep breath. Too blunt, too quick. Too late to play it off as a joke and probably more insensitive. No sense walking back now. "That's stupid. Who gave you that idea? They must not have been paying attention."

"I... bluh...?"

Scarlet turned her body back and closed her eyes. Looking at Floral's face was too hard and she needed to concentrate if she was going to lay this out. "I'll be clear: it's certainly possible for you to be the culprit. I just don't see it being plausible. There are too many inconsistencies for the answer to be so simple. Your motive is sketchy. You had no reason to sabotage your own bell, since the enchantments would have kept it from ringing if you didn't want it to. That's common knowledge."

Floral's voice faltered. "B-but what if I just—"

"Just what? Wanted some kind of more 'authentic' experience? Improbable. If I ruled you the culprit without properly investigating, I'd be a hack. Or do you want direct proof? Then tell me this, you were gagged when they found you, right? What was it with?"

Scarlet allowed her eyes to crack open just a bit. Floral was averting her gaze, somewhat ashamed. "Well it was...thick..."

"I'm a member of the Society, I know what gags are. Was it a ring? Bit? Ball? Muzzle, cleave?"

"Ball..." Floral admitted, her voice breaking a bit.

"Well there you go. Tell me, did it belong to you?"

Floral blinked. "What?"

"Did it belong to you? Was it a personal possession?"

Floral stared outward for a moment, alone with her thoughts. "No," she said, puzzled, completely confused.

"There you go, then. That proves there's at least one other pony involved in this story. And I intend to find them." Scarlet stomped her forehoof on the ground for emphasis. "And Floral, you're going to help me clear your own name."

"How?"

Scarlet felt herself grinning. She was going somewhere. Somehow, in spite of everything, she'd won the mare over. "Tell me, do you know the real name of any of the doms you've played with recently?"

It was a fine late-spring day in Ponyville, and the weather team had already completed their scheduled mid-morning shower. The air was warm without boiling, and the sky overhead was dotted with clouds. They had even managed to swing a gentle, delicate breeze, which was a harder ask for pegasus ponies than most of the ground-bound population realized. It was, in short, the kind of day that grabbed a pony by the sides of her head and screamed "run! Run and be free!"

Scarlet respected the day's call to frolic, but she preferred to be right where she was as she walked the town's busy market street: pressed close enough to Perique's side that observers would be forgiven for thinking the two intended to fuse into a single entity.

The batpony extended her wing, drawing Scarlet in closer. "Do you not think it's strange?" she asked.

"No, you are warm and snuggly and the best so it all makes sense," Scarlet mumbled as she nuzzled into Perique's coat.

"...I meant that so many ponies connected to the case would live so close to us," Perique chided, swatting Scarlet's flank gently with her tail.

Scarlet yipped in surprise and pressed closer to Perique in response, nearly pushing the batpony over. "Oh right. That! That's not so weird either." She kept her eyes on the road, squinting as the sun did its level best to destroy her vision. "The only real surprise to me was that Floral lives within a few miles of town. Once I heard that—"

"Wait, Floral living here came as a surprise to you?"

Scarlet paused, her train of thought trundling away without her. "Yes?"

"...Little one, Floral lives two houses down from me. She has been my neighbor for some time."

The silence stretched out for longer than any pony would find comfortable. "Anyway," Scarlet muttered, kicking at the ground under her hooves, "my point was if Floral lives in Ponyville, then chances are anyone with a motive to come after her does too. There's just so many more reasons to hate your neighbor than to hate an acquaintance at your sex club." She yelped in surprise as Perique reached over to nibble the tip of her ear.

"Thou'rt sometimes far too dour with thy judgements, little one," Perique whispered into her ear, her Old Colony accent low and musical.

Scarlet kept her focus on the ground. She had the good sense to bite her tongue to hold back the torrent of bile she wanted to spill out. Perique was perfect, and she didn't deserve to hear that deep down, Scarlet sometimes wondered if friendship wasn't some kind of cruel game that normal, acceptable ponies played with each other just to drive home how little they cared about anyone outside their circle—or so they'd have an excuse to hurt each other when things went wrong.

"This is the place?"

Scarlet nodded. "Ayup. Don't see how it could be anyplace else."

Ponyville was a growing community—Scarlet herself was a recent transplant. Like any growing town it had its share of awkward places, pieces where quaint homes built by the original run of townsfolk butted up against modern flats thrown up to meet demand. The town's most prominent landmark was a crystalline palace which had apparently sprung from the earth not long before Scarlet's move, dwarfing every building nearby in size and scope. Ponyville was, in short, no stranger to bizarre architecture.

Even so, it was rather unusual to see a house with a rowboat sticking out of the attic window.

"I think if your parents name you 'High Tide', this kind of thing is sort of bound to happen," Scarlet muttered as she approached the door and knocked.

A gruff voice rang out from behind it. "GO AWAY."

Scarlet didn't move, instead putting a hoof to her chin as she allowed herself to get lost in thought. Then she knocked again.

This time the door swung open.

Some claim that earth ponies are stronger than unicorns or pegasi, which Scarlet supposed might be true if you sat down and averaged out every pony in Equestria. In her everyday life, though, she felt it was a misleading truism. Sure you met earth ponies with excellent muscles but invariably they were farmers like the Apples, or construction workers, or athletes—not magically talented in any especially noticeable way. On the other hand, it was fairly common to meet pegasi who could bench you and your entire family.

Few ponies were better evidence of Scarlet's opinion than the pegasus currently glaring her down. He stood a good head taller than Perique, and absolutely every inch of his physique was rippling with defined muscles. Were it not for the anchor shape of his cutie mark, Scarlet would've assumed he was a bodybuilder of some sort.

"I thought I told you to go away," the pegasus growled down at her.

Scarlet flinched. His breath stank of rotgut, which was not a good sign, and for the brief moment she was able to look into his eyes she noticed a red tinge and a dilation of the pupils. This was a stallion who was having a very bad day—probably one of several.bad days by the looks of things.

Perique spoke up before Scarlet's contemplative silence could further provoke the pegasus. "Are you, by any chance, High Tide?"

"And what's it to you if I am, huh?" he snarled, spreading out his wings and snorting.

"Calm yourself down." Perique advanced, spreading her own wings protectively in front of Scarlet. "We are here to—"

"—to see if you're doing okay," Scarlet interrupted.

High Tide glared down at her. "We've never met—what makes you think you have a right to start askin' if I'm—"

"Well we're in the Society, and we heard about what happened to Floral," Scarlet replied, "and we just assumed you might be—"

"...oh." High Tide dropped his wings and shrank back sheepishly. "I'm.... I'm sorry. It's been—anyway, come inside." He cantered back through the door, motioning for the two to follow.

Scarlet's Further Notes on High Tide:

He's a recent transplant to Ponyville, that much is obvious—the accent indicates Vanhoover, though you can hardly tell unless you're listening very closely. I'd say he's built like a sailor, but to be honest between the name, the boat, and the scars around his hooves I'd say less "like" and more "definitely is".

Hard to tell right now but I'm sure he's an attractive sort if you really like stallions, or muscles, or a combination of the two. His coat's going a bit prematurely grey, I think, you can tell it used to be a much lighter blue. Diagnosis: aging, anxious pony who could accidentally break your leg if he shook hooves with you too hard, currently working through a very nasty hangover..

Scarlet's Addendum to Further Notes: Next time, bring hangover remedy..

Despite his disheveled personal appearance, High Tide's home seemed welcoming, if cluttered. Woven nets hung from the walls, decorated with seashells - Scarlet recognized them as fishing nets, unusual for a largely-vegetarian community like Ponyville. Interspersed with these wall hangings were framed watercolors, themselves nautically themed: sailboats on the open ocean, a Vanhoover port at sunset, and a whale breaching.

Scarlet sank into a sagging sofa - sea-green, of course- and snuggled up beside Perique as High Tide sank into an armchair across from them and took a drink from a rather foul-smelling flagon. It dawned on Scarlet that what she'd thought was bottom-shelf rotgut was more likely some kind of strong grog.

"...I'm sorry I yelled at you," High Tide sighed as he wiped stray drops of his drink from his mouth. "I've been... bad, the last few days."

"You must have taken the news rather hard," Perique ventured, extending a wing protectively over Scarlet. Scarlet snuggled back against her in thanks. Perique seemed remarkably calm, but Scarlet had been with her long enough to see when she was on alert. She prayed that High Tide would be nice and cooperative and not move, because those muscles were extremely well defined, and she didn't want to see Perique have to wrestle him.

"The news? The—aye, the news," High Tide spat as he pounded his half-empty flagon of grog against the arm of his chair. "Floral... fucking Floral, she's so sweet and somepony thinks he can just—I'll find him and—I'll fucking kill him!"

Perique flinched back a bit. "There's no need for such strong language—"

High Tide continued, impervious to her objections, sending a flush of embarrassed color along the batpony's cheeks. "Fuck the bastard right up his skull, that's what I'll do! Keelhaul him, rip his guts out, feed 'em to the sharks!"

Scarlet cleared her throat. "We're landlocked."

"Don't fuckin' care! I'll drag him back to Vanhoover, hang him off the side of the boat and carve him up for fishbait! Fuck that guy! Fuck his mother, fuck his sister, fuck him!" He stared down at the bottle. "She's my sub, he had no right..."

Perique nodded as the storm of foul language subsided. "...I'm sorry," she said, her voice a whisper after the tempest High Tide had just unleashed.

"I take it you have no idea who's responsible, then?" Scarlet asked.

"Do you think I'd be sittin' around on my arse drinking this if I did?" High Tide snapped, chugging yet another swig of his grog. "Can't fucking imagine who it would be. I thought it'd be that fucker Grant, but his mates all said he'd been deep in the Borderlands all night... and I guess it's his fucking thinking what saved her, so—"

"Grant was the griffon who found her then?" Scarlet asked, continuing to probe. "You know him from outside the Society then?"

"Outside—outside? Yeah. Yeah." High Tide's face became a clouded mask. "We took dom classes at the same time. Said he's on some kinda.. Some kinda study exchange program at a university in Canterlot, or something? Doesn't matter, he's a, a straight-shooter kinda guy. Good kind of griffon, if you know what I mean."

Scarlet almost snapped at "good kind of griffon" before Perique mercifully intervened. "Of course we do."

"Yeah. Yeah. Good guy... I... I got real angry at him, they had to escort me home. Now I'm fuckin'... fuckin' gonna be out of the society if I do that again." He raised his eyes to meet Perique's. "You two aren't just Society members are you?"

"We are. But we're also going to find out who hurt Floral. We can't have a dangerous pony like that on the loose," Scarlet confirmed. "I promise that as soon as we know who's responsible, we'll talk to you."

High Tide seemed to sag into his chair. "Thank... thanks. It means a lot." He stared up at the pictures on his wall. "You gotta help. Fuckin'...fuckin' everything's been terrible since the fishing trade dried up in the north. You can't imagine what it's like, being meant for the sea and having to live here. Can't even smell the ocean spray here."

Scarlet made what she thought was a sympathetic noise. It seemed appropriate.

"Floral, she—she's the last good thing that's happened to me. She's sweet, and nice, and doesn't mind care if you're bad at being gentle. And...and I. Fuck." He emptied the bottle in one last swig.

"Thank you, Mr. Tide. We will... help." Perique rose. "Come, Scarlet. We should go."

Scarlet obeyed, turning her head. "Before we go, I have two more questions. First, do you know what neighborhood Grant lives in?"

High Tide nodded. "Yeah... yeah, I went down to visit once. S' right by the palace, near where all the unicorns from the magic school live."

"Good. Now this next question is very important." Scarlet mustered all her energy to keep eye contact as she spoke, doing her best to ignore the red tint of High Tide's sclera. "Do you remember anything about the last sub you played with other than Floral?"

"Last... played with?" HIgh Tide's face was blank. She might as well have asked him what color red was.

"Never mind. We'll let you know if we find anything out. In the meantime, lay off the booze." Scarlet leaped from the sofa and trotted out after Perique.

"Where are we going in such a hurry?" Perique asked as she struggled to keep pace with Scarlet, who was forging forward with single-minded determination.

"Train station. We have just enough time to make a round trip to see Grant if we catch the 11:30 out of Ponyville," she explained as she waited for Perique to catch up. "Can't waste time on this. I'm worried they're in danger."

"Danger?" Perique's voice was incredulous. "From whom?"

"Dunno yet. High Tide was singularly unhelpful. Which I expected." Scarlet trotted forward, wincing as she passed from under a shade tree and into the direct sunlight. "First off he's probably suffering untreated depression. Seems like a tough guy who hasn't let himself talk to somepony in forever. Second, that hangover wasn't just grog. Did you catch that redness around his eyes?"

Perique gave a low gasp. "Salts?"

"Sure seems like it. Not the nice, friendly kind either." Recreational salt use was quite legal in most of Equestria, and most salts gave you little more than a pleasant tingle. Rumor had it that if you found the right ponies, though, you could indulge in a lick that would send you halfway to your foalhood and back again before the high wore off.

Scarlet frowned. "The salts aren't what bothers me, though. What bothers me is that he lied."

"Wait, lied about what—"

The two halted in front of the station. Scarlet around to her flank, then cursed. "Da—um, darn it. I forgot my purse."

"I'll cover us this time, then." Perique reached over and removed a few bits from the saddlebags she had, mercifully, remembered to bring along with her.

"Thank the sisters," Scarlet muttered under her breath. "Also um... this is embarrassing, but I'm gonna have to ask you for a loan when we get there too."

"For the return fare?" Perique asked as they stepped over to the ticket booth.

"No. Tea."

"Tea?"

"Trust me. We'll need it."

Notes on Canterlot and its Citizens, by Perique:

The Royal City, carved from mountains. Just as our little Ponyville is an "earth pony" town, Canterlot is a "unicorn city". Stick your head from the window of an approaching train, you can taste the magic floating in the air if your palate is sensitive enough. Here the sun rises not in the east nor does it set in the west, but all are ordered by our rulers. Here the Moon sleeps in the morning and rises in the evening. Our miracle is that we forget, so easily, the wonder of such things in the tumult of our lives. Ponies rise and bake bread and serve coffee and write novels and go work nine-to-fives in the residential area. In the High Streets of the noble, the wealthy and the famous, they play games with each other and spread their family money about on trivialities.

Do they know, then, that in the center of them all, the sun looks down and laughs and cries, and lives among us? Do they know the moon is gentle, terrifying, and wondrous? Have they forgotten the miracle of the sisters—or do they simply know it far deeper than those of us who live out of their immediate sight? Who best appreciates the miracle, those who are reverent or those who simply accept it?

Perique's Response to the Publication of These Notes: No, no no, please no, it's awful and maudlin—

Canterlot was a noble's city rather than a college town, but every so often you turned a corner onto a place like Gilroy Street and were reminded that a very big magical school was located near the royal palace and its students had to live somewhere when they weren't mixing philters or drinking at the local dives. Canterlot student housing was, like most of the rest of the city, a mixture of old buildings in various states of repair (and disrepair) and hastily thrown-up new structures meant to meet the demand of incoming residents.

"You're sure this is the place?" Perique asked as the two approached one such new building.

"My sources never lie. The only pony who knows more of Canterlot by name than Lemon Squeeze is Donut Joe, and apparently almost as many students come by for tea runs as get donuts around here," Scarlet explained as she adjusted the satchel she and Perique had purchased.

"We're trusting the tea shop pony to know the address of her customers?"

"Yes. Because she has only failed me once." Scarlet raised her hoof and knocked at the door before Perique could question this or object.

It swung open and, mercifully, revealed a tom griffon with a sleek, black coat and tufted 'horns' of feathers above his head. "...Hi?" he ventured, staring at the mismatched pair in front of him.

"We're from the Society, are you doing okay and can you help us solve a mystery?" Scarlet asked, before pulling a small pouch of dried leaves from Perique's saddlebags. "Also I brought tea. It's ginseng because Lemon Squeeze said you like ginseng which I thought was really odd because my marefriend can't stand it, not this one but the other one, the griffon one, anyway can we come in?"

The griffon stared at her before reaching out and accepting the leaf-packet. "...I really do like ginseng," he admitted. "And... it would be nice to talk about what happened. Come inside."

As her turned and wandered in, Scarlet shifted her attention to Perique while forcing a smile. "Did I do that right? I think I did that right. Right?"

Perique nodded. "Absolutely you did that right."

"So High Tide gave you my name?" Grant asked as the three settled around a small table in his kitchen, each with a steaming mug of ginseng tea in front of them.

"Mhmm." Scarlet blew on her tea before scooping up the mug in her hooves, a bit awkwardly—dexterous though they might be, pony hooves were really not meant to grasp the little loops on these mugs and teacups—and took a sip of the tea, letting the oddly sweet aftertaste of the ginseng linger. "He said he knew you from dom classes."

"That's true. I'm surprised he remembered, though, those were months ago and we only had a couple of conversations. I didn't even tell him my address." Grant began to lift his own mug of tea. As he tilted it back to his beak his whole foreleg, talon upwards, began to tremble slightly.

Scarlet raised her voice just a moment too late. "Watch ou—"

Grant lost his grip and the mug crashed to the floor, shattering and spilling its contents everywhere. He squawked in anger and dismay, flinching back.

Perique moved first. "Let me get that. Where are your towels?"

Grant seemed dazed for a moment but shook his head. "No, no, I can't possibly—"

"Let her do it," Scarlet ordered him, crossing to the griffon's side of the table and gently easing him back into his seat before passing him her own mug. "Just relax."

As Perique ventured into the kitchen for towels, Grant lifted his new mug, this time with extra care, and drank. "I'm sorry, I'm—"

"Nervous. You've been nervous since a few days ago, I'd guess," Scarlet interrupted, "and I'm sure us showing up didn't help."

Grant seemed to shrink away for a moment. "What do you mean—"

"Relax. I just mean it's an obvious reaction. When you found Floral, before you used the safeword, you'd already jumped on her right? I saw the claw marks near her hooves. Knowing how close you came to being a criminal must have been nerve-wracking, especially if you play in the Borderlands a great deal. I can imagine you've spent some nights wondering if anypony else you played with was in a similar position—"

Grant made a strangled half-squawking noise.

Scarlet ignored it and continued. "And anyway, I can't imagine a more awkward position. Here you are, a griffon on a high-profile exchange program—Canterlot University is almost as picky as Celestia's school—and now suddenly you find out that some guy from your sex club is bringing up your name in connection with a near-rape. Yeah. I'd be terrified too."

Grant gulped. "...you're here to blackmail me, aren't you?"

Scarlet nearly fell out of her chair, aghast. "What? What gave you that idea? I catch blackmailers, I don't engage in it myself!"

"Oh." Grant's expression showed how far from relieved he was at her protests, which dampened Scarlet's spirit somewhat. "So if you aren't here to blackmail me, what are you two here for?"

"To have tea. And to see if you had any idea who actually hurt Floral Fragrance." Scarlet sighed. "And... look, okay, I hadn't actually known you were involved or how, exactly, until today? And like... look, it's personal now. My marefriend is a griffon—"

"You mean the batpony you came in with?"

"My other marefriend, who I'm like eighty-one percent certain is doing something entirely legal back home and can't be with us but whom I love like life itself, look, my point is she's perfect. And she's hung out with me before. And I get the whole... the way a lot of ponies look at you, alright? I know the kind of things they say about her out of earshot and about you and even High Tide seemed okay with you once he knew you weren't the culprit but he was kind of an asshole and... and I just wanna fix this because somehow it concerns personal things for basically everyone I love." Scarlet sighed. "And me too, honestly."

Grant's feathers seemed to smooth themselves just a bit, and he let out a low sigh. "...your marefriend is a griffon, huh?"

"Gilda. She's from Griffonstone. I knew where to find you 'cuz she told me this street is named after a famous Griffon musician, so I'd been up this way. And also because I bribed Lemon Squeeze to get your address."

"Wait, Lemon Squeeze knows where I live?"

By the time Perique had emerged with a towel, Scarlet had begun to feel a moderately warm and somewhat fuzzy feeling of kinship with Grant.

"Well... crud," Scarlet sighed.

The three had finished their cups of tea, and the evening was wearing on - the last train to Ponyville wouldn't get them home until well after midnight at this rate. It had been a pleasant visit, but between discussing Griffonstone's history (Grant had strong opinions about King Grover), old Equestrian literature (Perique had an animated discussion about ancient philosophy that intersected quite well with Grant's major) and Conjure: The Meeting (Scarlet had noticed the poster of Lily the Veiled on Grant's wall the moment they had walked in and managed to keep silent about it until about an hour in, which showed incredible self control), at no point had anything concrete about the case revealed itself.

"I wish I could tell you more," Grant sighed. "I didn't even know Floral's name until you two told me. She was just another red collar in the borderlands. The only thing that freaked me out was that I pounced on her and she just... she didn't even freeze up. It was like she was struggling without being there, and i wanted to check on her and see if she was feeling dehydrated or something, I didn't want her passing out in the middle of play."

"And a good thing you did." Perique shuddered. "I've played in the Borderlands before. Had you not been there..."

"Yeah." Grant closed his eyes, wincing away. "Yeah. I know."

Scarlet stood up from the table. "...We have to get back to Ponyville. I guess... would it be okay if we came back to see you later, Grant?" Asking permission felt strange considering she was going to come back anyway, but there was something pleasant about Grant.

"Yeah. Hopefully under better circumstances, though." Grant's eyes twinkled. "We could all play strip Conjure."

"I don't wear clothes."

"You'll have an excuse."

Scarlet grinned. Ponies who claimed griffons were all grumpy, greedy bastards clearly hadn't spent enough time with griffons. "...I'm not even into toms, and I think I might take you up on that sometime. I'm just sorry we didn't get anywhere tonight." She ground her teeth together.

"Little one, we should make haste," Perique called from the doorway. "Our train departs in half an hour, we'll have to run to catch it."

"Coming, mama!" Scarlet called in spite of herself.

"Mama?"

"Don't you dare judge," Scarlet hissed as she rose, darting to Perique's side and under her wing.

"She's adorable. I'm jealous," Grant chuckled, pointedly addressing Perique instead.

"Indeed."

As her cheeks began to flame red with embarrassment, Scarlet gasped. "Wait! Grant, I figured it out!"

Grant paused. "What?"

"Floral! You played with her before, right? She'd been in the borderlands other times, before last time!"

Grant nodded, confused. "Yeah, I'd played with her before. It was all anonymous but—"

"Awesome! This is perfect, I think if I'm right this all makes perfect sense! We just have to go confirm—the train!" Scarlet dashed out of the doorway and into the streets of Canterlot.

Perique whirled, aghast. "LIttle one, if you do not slow down and wait for me I am going to punish you when we get home—" she called as she took flight, winging her way after Scarlet..

Grant stood alone in an empty apartment, watching the two recede into the distance. "...What was that all about?"

In Which a Perfectly Good Breakfast is Ruined

Scarlet's Notes on Waking Up at Roughly Seven in the Morning After Getting Home at Three:

Oh Dear Princess Celestia, why was I born?

Perique smelled the fire before she saw the smoke.

She threw her sheets from her bed and rolled out. Her years of experience in the Reserve had left her with combat reflexes that, if not field tested, were well honed enough that she was able to shake off the fugue of sleep instantly. Her eyes flickered to the side - Scarlet was missing, she had stayed the night and spent most of it in Perique's embrace. Black smoke billowed from the kitchen, carrying with it a burnt-rubber scent. She burst in, fearing the worst.

Scarlet sat, coughing, in the center of a rising cloud of noxious, black smoke. The source was what had once been a perfectly good cast-iron frying pan filled with what had at one point been eggs and dandelion greens, now congealed into a crunchy black mass.

Perique didn't hesitate. She flung open the window and drove out the smoke with two heavy wingbeats before snatching the pan from the open flame on her stovetop. She sighed as she surveyed the damage: One pan, now covered in unspeakable residue. The smell of burnt eggs permeating every inch of her kitchen. Two eggs and the dandelion greens she'd been saving for sandwiches, quite gone..

She sighed. "Little one..."

Scarlet blinked back tears. "...I....I...." she muttered, seeming to shrink down into herself.

"Did you try to make me breakfast in bed?"

Scarlet looked up. "...uh-huh."

"Thank you, little one." Perique leaned in and kissed Scarlet just below her jawline, eliciting a sudden squeak of embarrassment. "Now clean up this pan while I fix us something else. You may wait in the bedroom until it is done."

Scarlet nodded, ashamed, and skulked away to find the steel wool.

Perique smiled and began to hum as she opened her icebox, hunting for something special she had picked up in Canterlot's market street the day before. Scarlet was a walking disaster, unable to touch a kitchen. That she'd attempted to make breakfast, despite knowing this of herself, signified only the health of this relationship.

Scarlet sighed, pulling the covers of Perique's featherbed over herself. She was dumb. Dumb and stupid and probably worthless. What kind of girl dragged her marefriend across the country to the capital city to have conversations with a stranger because she had to know who committed one particular crime? She wasn't even being paid to solve this, there were professionals dealing with the problem, she was just—

Her wave of self-pity was suddenly eclipsed by the smell of garlic, parsley, and an acrid seafood tang wafting from the kitchen. Perique returned behind it, bearing two dishes. Scarlet couldn't help herself—she threw the blanket off and began openly salivating.

Each bowl was piled high with some kind of culinary alchemy Scarlet could not name, and did not care to. It was a mixture of some kind of corn-colored porridge that had been topped with delicious, savory-looking chopped scallions, dotted with herbs and fragrant spices, and finished with small, pink, perfect shrimp. It was all she could do to keep from snatching a bowl from Perique's hooves, and the moment hers was handed over she dug in with gusto, not even bothering to wait for a spoon.

The porridge was thick and textured, and filled with sharp, acid bites. The shrimp had been pan-cooked and liberally splashed with lemon juice, and the bright acidity nearly brought her to tears with its perfection. She looked up from her meal and summed up her gratitude and wonder in a single question. "What...?"

"Shrimp and grits. I have been meaning to try it out for some time, but getting shrimp in Ponyville has been a challenge." Perique sighed as she began to eat her own bowl in a more civilized manner, with a large wooden spoon.

The two sighed as they finished. Scarlet ran her tongue along her upper row of teeth. "That's... the third time I've eaten fish with you, I think?"

"They are shellfish, little one. But technically, yes."

"They're delicious. Ponies have no idea what they're missing." Scarlet smacked her lips, trying to savor what little aftertaste was left.

Thwump, Thwump.

Scarlet frowned. "Now?"

"I'll get it, little one. It's probably Ditzy with a late mail delivery." Perique exited the bedroom, setting her bowl on her nightstand. Scarlet eyed the half-full bowl with envy before peeling herself out of bed and following. Flattered as Perique might be by Scarlet's love of her cooking, she imagined devouring her marefriend's breakfast might strain that flattery. Besides, she was curious.

The unicorn mare who stood framed by Perique's cottage door stood about a head higher than Perique, and made Scarlet feel delightfully small. Her white coat was well groomed, and her pink mane had been cut back into a military bob. Even without the bright golden necklace bearing the insignia of the Torch Legion, Scarlet wouldn't have taken long to guess.

"Praiseworthy?" Perique asked, looking the Legion mare over. "What brings you here?"

"You know each other?" Scarlet asked, fidgeting in place and avoiding Praiseworthy's eyes. Eyes were tricky at the best of times, and Praiseworthy had a practiced, confident stare that pierced right through your thoughts and broke them apart.

"Perique and I are both in the Reserve, officially. I've assisted in training exercises with her." Without waiting for an invitation, Praiseworthy strode past Perique and into the cottage. "You must be Scarlet Letter?"

Scarlet flinched back, backing towards the bedroom. "Um, yes?"

"It's come to the attention of the Torch Legion you're investigating the incident regarding Floral Fragrance, and you have already had a conversation with High Tide. Is this correct?"

Scarlet nodded. "Yes, but—"

"Please look at me when I'm talking."

Scarlet lifted her eyes slowly, trying not to show how much she wanted to bury herself in the ground. With effort, she met Praiseworthy's stare and only shuddered a little. "Yes, I did."

"Praiseworthy, please. Scarlet had my blessing and assistance, and—" Perique began.

"Don't worry, neither of you are in trouble," Praiseworthy interrupted. Scarlet didn't relax. She had pronounced "neither of you are in trouble" the same way some ponies might pronounce "I hate you", or "ugh, disgusting." "However, on behalf of the Torch Legion I came to remind you that what you're doing is completely unnecessary. We've already identified a suspect and will have our case against them complete by the end of the week."

Scarlet couldn't help herself. "So you do suspect High Tide, then?"

Praiseworthy snorted. "Perique, she's your pet, yes?"

Perique nodded. "Aye."

"Gag her more often. She should learn the value of keeping silent." Praiseworthy whirled on her hooves and marched out of the cottage.

Scarlet felt the floor move from underneath her as her vision began to cloud.

Perique sighed as she closed the door behind the receding mare. "I'm truly sorry for that, little one. Praiseworthy Virtue means well, but—" she turned to face her sub and gasped. "Scarlet? Are you—?"

Scarlet had slumped to the ground and tears were streaming down her face. She barely acknowledged Perique as the batpony bodily scooped her up and assisted her back into the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

"Feeling better, little one?"

"Uh-huh." Scarlet continued to sniffle as she stared into the cup of tea Perique had poured for her, and took a sip. "It's just... never mind, I, it's stupid, I'm stupid. We should probably just stop. We'll get in trouble, and—"

"Little one, last night you were charging off as if you already knew who the culprit was. This morning you tried to cook for me, which I know means you were in a very good mood, because when you are in a foul mood you can't bring yourself to crawl out of bed." Scarlet flinched. "You may know something of ponies and mysteries, but I know you."

Scarlet nodded and sipped her tea again.

Perique waited for an answer that never came. "...What's bothering you, little one? Out with it." She snuggled close to Scarlet's side, enveloping the smaller mare in her wings.

Scarlet hiccuped as she swallowed yet more tea. "It's... it's that she's right, okay? She's right. I'm—I shouldn't be doing this. It was dumb to do this and I could've gotten you and me hurt."

"Scarlet—"

"Lemme finish!" Scarlet interrupted. Perique fell silent as she continued. "Look yesterday I went to see Floral, and Nurse Redheart found me there. And... and I think I screwed up, okay? I screwed up. I lied, and Floral nearly freaked out, and yesterday all we did was make High Tide more pissed off and nearly give Grant a heart attack."

"We're investigating a crime," Perique reminded her, "not trying to be amateur den mothers."

"That's not the point though! The point is the Legion is out there, and they're doing this because it's their job, and I'm—I—I just, I did this because I was bored, okay?" Scarlet shut her eyes and screamed. "I was bored! I was bored and I wanted—I just, I thought this was going to be an interesting case, so I decided to get involved, and now I can't even tell if I'm upset because I'm doing something wrong or because I got caught!"

Perique ran her hoof across Scarlet's forehead. "Shhhh..."

Scarlet began sobbing again, pressing herself to Perique's side. "I—look, I don't know—don't know why you, you put up with me," she blubbered. "I'm ju, just, just selfish and weird, and I fucked up breakfast and did stupid stuff and we could've gotten hurt so many ways yesterday and I wasn't even thinking and I'm stupid and—"

"Little one. Calm thyself."

Scarlet felt the sadness bubbling in her receding as Perique pressed down, pushing her against the bed. "Wh—"

"Ssshh. Calm." Perique's voice had grown lower, dusky, more musical. Images from tales of the Old Colony invaded Scarlet's mind. "Thou'rt lying, to me and to thyself, little one."

"M'not," Scarlet managed. She sounded sullen even to herself, like a child arguing about being sent to bed early.

"Of this I have no doubt," Perique continued, her voice still layered, deliberately milking the Old Colony speech for all it was worth. "Thou hast indeed made selfish decisions. Thou hast told the truth about failing to have concern for others, and of thine own boredom, and this case as a source of pleasure for thee."

Scarlet flinched back, stricken. "Then—"

"I was not finished yet, little one." Perique darted in, biting Scarlet just above her shoulder. Her fangs were small - so small - but so sharp. Scarlet writhed, feeling a mixture of burning pain and a slow build of desire. "Yes, thy desires are in part selfish. But I know thee better than that. And Praiseworthy is in the right in one regard, little one."

Scarlet gulped. "W-what's that?"

Perique pushed her down, down into the surface of the bed. "Thy unruly mouth is in need of discipline."

Scarlet felt her vision cloud over as she surrendered.

"Comfortable, little one?" Perique asked.

Scarlet whined. She was knelt on Perique's floor, all four of her legs beneath her. Perique had drawn a black collar tight around her neck, and each time Scarlet breathed in just a bit too much she swore it was pinching her just a bit, just uncomfortable enough to remind her of her place. A long, velvet-black leash ran from the collar's padlock to one of Perique's hooves.

Perique gave the leash a small jerk, and Scarlet yipped as she was pulled forward. She hadn't realized ponies could yip before Perique.

"We are going to train thee, my pet," Perique breathed into Scarlet's ear. "Train thee to be more honest. With thyself, and with me." Scarlet whimpered as Perique began to circle her, breathing, teasing, but not yet touching. "Understand?"

Scarlet tried to speak, but her voice stifled itself, her 'yes' turning into a whimper.

"Poor little one. So needy." Perique chuckled as she crossed back into Scarlet's field of vision, holding up a line of black cloth. "Canst thou tell me what this is?"

Scarlet shook her head, staring at it numbly.

"What a pity. For all thy deductive powers, thou seemest content to be ignorant here." Perique reached forward, and Scarlet gasped as the cloth was tied around her eyes, cutting off her vision entirely. "This is a blindfold, little one. It will teach thee trust, and discipline."

"Y-yesss..." Scarlet managed, trying desperately to hold still.

"Don't move." Scarlet felt a slight tug on her leash as Perique secured it to the bedpost. She heard Perique's hoofsteps recede down the hallway and shivered.

Not moving was the first thing Perique had trained her to do - to sit still and wait. It was also the hardest. Waiting required patience and self-control, the things she lacked most. It required discipline. Worshiping Perique's hooves or servicing her only needed affection and enthusiasm. Waiting, helpless, with no knowledge of when Perique would return or what would happen-

Scarlet moaned as she resisted the urge to roll over and reach down. It would be so easy - if Perique was in the next room getting more toys, she might not even notice. So easy -

She stiffened. Perique's hoofsteps sounded, quite close by. She'd better not. Mama would be so cross if - no, now they were receding back down the hall. Scarlet strained, but couldn't pick out any further sounds.

It would be so easy.

She squirmed, trying in vain to find any way to surreptitiously grind against something. She could get away with hiding that, but if she rolled over to touch herself and Perique saw - she shuddered. Surely even if she got caught, her punishment wouldn't be that bad? And she could hear Perique coming so easily, too!

She couldn't resist. Just a little touch couldn't hurt. She rolled over, her forehoof straying to her nethers. Just a touch, a little touch, to deal with the itch she felt all through her body. Surely that was alright. She hesitated, waiting for more hoofsteps, and then leaned down to indulge-

"Naughty filly. So close to doing what was told!"

Scarlet felt her stomach freeze and drop out. Perique was in the room. Perique was right beside her.

"Wondering why thine ears failed to detect me, little one?" Perique murmured, her breath tickling Scarlet's left ear. "Then thou must deduce it for me once thou hast enjoyed a well-deserved punishment."

Scarlet whimpered as she was roughly seized and her forehooves wrenched behind her, cinched together and bound with expert skill. The bindings were soft but resisted any effort she made to wriggle free. Perique's hoof slipped beneath her chin, lifting her up to what she assumed was eye level. "Little one, I know thy tolerance for pain is quite... limited. So we shall restrain ourselves," Perique murmured. "But know this: one lost count and I shall begin thy punishment anew."

Scarlet nodded, gulping.

Perique lowered her to the ground once again, taking care to prop up her hindquarters. The moment she felt them being raised, Scarlet knew what punishment Perique had chosen for her, even before she heard the tell-tale swish of a crop moving through the air. "Mama, please-" she began to plead.

Swish-thwack!

The crop lanced along Scarlet's upper flank, carving a white-hot line of pain that left her whimpering. "Little one, thou hast already earned one punishment. Do not try for two."

Scarlet tried to shrink away. It was then that the deviousness of this situation dawned on her. Perique could move silently, without her knowledge. Her eyesight was gone. Her hooves were restricted. If she was bound like there, there was no way to anticipate which direction the strike would come from - or when.

"Count for me, pet," Perique commanded. "Five strokes."

Swish-thwack!

This time the crop cut just under Scarlet's tail, almost too close to her dock. She screamed out in pain.

"Mm... that sound is exquisite, little one, but thy orders were to count for me. We shall have to begin again."

Scarlet whimpered and waited. She gathered herself, waiting for the next blow, trying to predict it. If she failed this time, she didn't think she would be able to take another. In the back of her mind she remembered that she could scream her safeword or simply tap out, but-

-but she needed this, didn't she? She'd been naughty, so naughty. This was mama's way of punishing her for being such a naughty filly. If she did very well, mama might even reward her once it was all do-

Swish-thwack!

"One!" Scarlet screamed, a line of pain tracing itself down the inside of her right flank.

Perique chuckled. "Good girl. Four more."

Swish-thwack!

"T-two!" This time Scarlet felt the lash along her forehooves. Perique was marking her, carving evidence of her disobedience anywhere. She felt hot tears soaking her blindfold.

"That's right, little one," Perique cooed. "Three more for thee, and we may begin thy training in earnest." Scarlet felt Perique's hoof begin to stroke her mane. "I'll give thee a choice, little one - not that thy behavior has earned it. Wouldst thou like the rest of thy punishment slow, or all at once?"

Scarlet gulped.

"If I do not hear thy choice in fifteen seconds, little one, we will have to start over again."

No time. Scarlet struggled fruitlessly against the ropes holding her in place. If she chose to take things slowly, Perique would draw it out, and make her wait for her punishment, force her to savor every mark. If she asked for it all at once - even one hit was agonizing. Would she be able to count if she spoke too fast?

"Five seconds, little one."

"-nce," Scarlet managed.

"Speak up, little one."

"A-allatoncemama," Scarlet managed, choking back a sob.

"My, how brave. Very well then, my cute little minx," Perique growled, her breath hot against Scarlet's ear. "Prepare thyself."

Before Scarlet could obey the command, she felt it.

Swish-thwack! Thwack! Swish-thwack!

The crop carved its mark just below her dock and into each cutie mark. Scarlet screamed in pain, her body shuddering. It was too much - too much - she couldn't. She just couldn't take another. She tried to raise her voice to call for a pause, but it failed, turning into a breathless squeak. She had failed-

Perique's hoof ran through her mane. "There, there, little one. I did not expect thee to succeed," the batpony murmured, hugging Scarlet close against her.

Scarlet snuggled forward. With her sight denied, she felt herself focus on little things - the smell of cherry tobacco on Perique's breath. The warmth of her embrace. The sting of each cut. She began to sob. She couldn't help it.

"There, there, little one," Perique cooed. "Let it out."

"T-three... f-four...fiiiveee..." Scarlet managed, as her words returned to her, tears rolling openly down her cheeks.

"That's right, little one. Tell me, why did you deserve those five strokes?" Perique asked.

Scarlet felt the softness of the bed beneath her as Perique scooped her up and settled her on it. "C-'cuz Mama told me, said I should wait for her, a-and I didn't," she managed.

"True, that is part of it. But there is another reason, little one." Perique's wings were now wrapped around her. "Canst thou think of what it might be?"

Scarlet shook her head slowly. "No, Mama...."

She felt herself being rolled over. Perique was pressing her down into the bed, leaning in to nibble at her throat. "Because, little one, thou hast lied. In word, in deed, and by omission."

Scarlet whimpered. "I-I didn't lie, mama! I didn't, I didn't!"

"Hush."

Scarlet fell silent.

She felt Perique's lips press against hers, and did her best to return the kiss before whining as the batpony withdrew just a bit too soon. Then she felt a bite, just at the tip of her ear- yet another mark. She squirmed, but Perique's weight had her firmly pinned in place. Tied, helpless - just a toy, a pet, a naughty filly who needed instruction.

"Little one, I heard thee not an hour ago insult thyself, to my face. You are my precious little one," Perique growled into Scarlet's right ear, before changing positions and biting her left. "My pet, my little minx. It is not up to thee to punish thyself. That is why I am here."

Scarlet hiccuped through her sobs as Perique's words washed over her, filling her with relief. "Mama..."

"Silence, pet," Perique chuckled. "Thy duties are not yet complete."

Scarlet felt her blindfold being loosened, then removed. She blinked away the haze of tears and saw Perique still firmly gripping the crop that had been used for her punishment. She flinched away. "I-i..."

"Hush now, pet. I know thy limits quite well," Perique soothed before pressing the crop against Scarlet's body, and slowly dragging it down, until it hovered just over her nethers. "Now, little one, I ask thee... what wouldst thou have me do to you, hmm?"

Scarlet felt her mind run blank. The pressure of the crop was light, and Perique was drawing lazy circles with it along her vulnerable belly. Each time it seemed as if it might move lower, it was jerked away. She squirmed, longing to reach out for it with her bound hooves and pull it closer. It wasn't fair! She knew from experience that being pleasured with something like the crop was sometimes painful, obtrusive even, but her entire body was trembling and she just wanted something-

"Oh?" Perique continued teasing her. "Speak up, little one.I cannot quite hear thee..."

"M-mama," Scarlet choked.

"Mmm?"

"L-lowerplease," Scarlet squeaked.

"Oh? Wouldst thou enjoy being pleasured? Down here, little one?" Perique dropped the crop and began drawing lazy circles just above Scarlet's marehood.

Scarlet nodded, too strained for any further answer.

Perique smirked, and pulled her hoof away. "...Denied."

Scarlet looked up, horror washing over her. "No..."

"I am afraid so, little one. Thy punishment for dishonesty is to spend the rest of the day... wanting."

Scarlet howled in frustration as Perique continued to tease her.

She felt better.

Scarlet felt better, for the first time that morning since Praiseworthy's visit. She'd left herself behind and come back. Everything was still a mess but that was alright.

She'd only been teased for half an hour or so before Perique had mercy and let her go. She'd fixed her tea, and wrapped her in blankets, and now they were snuggled together on a big, comfy chair in the living room. Her mind had begun to lose the fuzz around the edges she'd felt since Praiseworthy, and that fuzz dissolved a little more each time Perique nuzzled her or tousled her mane. Dimly she still felt an aching, tingling want, but it wasn't important just now.

What was important was this moment where everything was okay. If everything was okay, she could actually start to think. No unicorns, no self-doubt, no worries about what the case meant to other ponies. Just her, and the facts, and a comfy chair with a willing listener.

She giggled in surprise as Perique pulled her close, snuggling against her as they reclined in a deliciously plush armchair, Scarlet nestled in Perique's embrace. "You have something on your mind?" Perique probed, using a hoof to adjust wayward strands of Scarlet's mane.

Scarlet didn't answer right away, instead enjoying the grooming. Once Perique had finished adjusting things, she nodded. "I think I've figured some things out, yeah."

"Figured things out?" A smile played around Perique's lips. "Do I sense a parlor scene coming on?"

Scarlet felt a warm bubble burst in her mind. "How in Equestria did I ever get so lucky as to have a marefriend who knows detective fiction parlance?"

"The same time I was lucky enough to meet a sweet girl like you, little one." Perique nuzzled her and Scarlet giggled, the warm feeling spreading through her body and down to her hooves.

"It's not really a parlor scene yet, though. I haven't quite figured everything out. It's more... like, the midquel. Did you ever read that book I told you about, The Zodiac Murders of Sunrise City?"

Perique coughed slightly. "...I might have delayed on that one."

"No way!" Scarlet's face contorted into a frown. "Then - argh, this would be so much easier if you had. Anything by Elegant Scene, then? The Zodiac Murders was just re-appropriating his techniques anyway."

"Little one, I prefer my mysteries to border on ones of a capital-M variety. You know this," Perique chided, returning to rubbing Scarlet's mane.

"Okay if I can solve this the first thing we are doing is sitting down with a copy of like, at least one of those books," Scarlet sighed. "You are my marefriend and my official co-detective, you need a proper education."

"Perhaps you could explain your point faster, then?" Perique stuck her tongue out.

Scarlet sighed. Perique was teasing, but with anypony else - how often had she explained that you couldn't just get to the point when the point was a distant station and your mind a train? You couldn't just go there, you had to stop and connect and do - do train things, damn it! It all made sense once it was laid out, even if most ponies had no patience for it. It really hurt that they had no-

She took a deep breath. No. Absolutely no pity parties during snuggle time. That was a rule.

"So..." she groped for a starting place. "So Elegant Scene, he was a bit of an egotist, right? He named his detective after his own pen name, just to mess with readers. And at the end of every book, before the last chapter, he'd deliver - he called it the Challenge to the Reader. He'd tell them they had everything they need to solve the case, and challenge them to guess whodunnit before turning the very next page."

Perique made a noise that Scarlet generously interpreted as interest.

She continued, a little steadier now. "Anyway what he'd do is he'd always put that challenge right before the parlor scene, where the detective walks through and identifies the criminal and explains how he knew. It was a little much, and it interrupted the book but I always thought it was fun - especially when I figured out how to spot his culprits. He had patterns."

"Mhm?"

"Yeah! Like... like-" Scarlet felt her train of thought rearrange itself and crash. "I was - I was getting to something, right?"

"You were. Take your time, though." Perique smiled, full of indulgence.

Scarlet snuggled back against her. Her point was still there, it was just a matter of finding the right point on the track to hit the switch, move her closer to the destination. "Right! Well, anyway, what we're doing right now - like, the kind of, the point we're at - if this were a novel, it'd be a challenge to the reader. We're at that point, kinda - interviewed the suspects, the major players, the police have told us to knock it off - that kinda point. That's how it feels."

"And?"

"And what?"

"What's the challenge to the reader, then?"

Scarlet's face fell. "...To figure it out because I have no clue still."

Perique blinked. "What? Then why did you-"

"Because... because in a book that's what this would be, and, and I solve cases- like -" Scarlet struggled, finding words for things that refused to be. "I just, I think of cases, of life, like - like fiction, alright? It's easier that way. Life has no pattern but fiction has narrative. If you look closely, you can build narratives out of life, and discard everything until you find one that makes sense. That's how you solve crimes, right? You make up every story you can out of the facts until you make up the true one."

Perique nodded slowly.

"I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"You're trying, Scarlet. That's the important thing. I'll keep listening, as long as you need."

Scarlet's heart broke into a hundred thousand pieces that quintupled in size and rearranged themselves into a new organ entirely. "I love you."

"As do I."

Back to the train. More stations - no, double back. "I - I started this talking about the Zodiac Murders, right?" Scarlet asked, as much to herself as Perique. "Anyway that book, the author deliberately played with Elegant Scene's idea. He put in two different challenges - one in the same place that Scene always did before you got the reveal of the murderer, and one after that but before the actual parlor scene. The last one, I liked it because it turned the mystery from a whodunnit into - into, like, a whydunnit and howdunnit. And I think that's where I am now."

Perique clapped her hooves together. "Then you do have a parlor scene coming on!"

"A parlor scene without a culprit." And without a guarantee of being right, she didn't say. The problem with learning your trade from fiction was that fiction had a way of keeping to rules that life had no respect for. The Ten Laws of Hard Knocks or the Twenty Rules of Upper Class were well and good until your first case where you realized that it really was the butler.

"Well?"

Scarlet shook her head. "Well... well?"

"Aren't you going to explain your theory?"

Scarlet smiled. "Alright I... it's not good yet, okay? Don't be mad if I'm wrong later."

"Of course not."

She took a breath.

The train started moving.

"I'm going to start with this premise: It's basically impossible right now to determine who attacked Floral Fragrance," she began, deliberately trying to keep herself from speaking too fast. "We have no established motive, no means, and no sense of when they had an opportunity. It is, however, possible to construct a working theory of the kind of pony who committed the crime."

It was gathering steam now. Getting easier. It was all there, she just had to let it connect the way it should.

"Let's begin with the base facts of the case. Floral Fragrance is found in the borderlands. She's gagged with a gag that does not belong to her, but which she has no memory of being fitted with. Her Pipsub has been sabotaged. Her bell has been stuffed with cotton so it will not sound. The culprit's aim is then, apparently, to get her into a situation where she'll be unable to revoke consent." Scarlet felt Perique grow tense against her. "Are you alright?"

"Keep going. I'm fine." Perique's face was impossible to read.

Scarlet pressed onward. "Here's the first point I think we need to understand: All of what I just said is absolute and complete nonsense."

Perique started. "What?"

Scarlet felt the warm bubble burst again. Surprise - genuine, excited surprise. "I mean, think about it like this: The Clocktower Society does not mess around when it comes to consent, right? So every single safeguard we have is redundant to the point of overkill. Pipsubs have mechanisms to overcome magic that can mentally fog the user. Bells have enchantments laid on them so they'll sound whenever the pony they belong to wants them to sound. Stuffing cotton in one shouldn't matter, right?"

"The Pipsub Floral had was broken, though," Perique interjected.

"Exactly - which indicates some kind of mental fogging magic was induced. So at bare minimum, we're dealing with a pony who knows something about magic." Scarlet pursed her lips. "Of course, that doesn't narrow things down very well."

Perique closed her own eyes and nodded. "Between the Storytellers' Guild and some of the ponies with Root access..."

"Let alone the possibility of a changeling culprit," Scarlet added. "Changeling magics would go a long way toward explaining some of the behavior we've witnessed in this case. I could even think of a way for an earth pony or pegasus to pull this off. I've said over and over again that it's way too easy to get your hands on controlled substances in CTS. Starbright makes you a little more sensitive, Stampede makes you horny, but put them together and you don't always get a bad cocktail."

Perique gasped. "Alchemy?"

"Even I can brew a bad fertilizer potion when I'm in the mood, and in Ponyville we're right on the edge of the biggest source of dangerous magical herbs this side of Canterlot. I can't imagine that somepony hasn't at least wondered how easy it would be to put together a philter of mental mastery, or whatever, and slip it into somepony's Creamy Pussy." Scarlet stuck out her tongue. "Honestly, that'd probably improve the flavor."

"So we can guess the culprit used mental magic, but there are too many kinds of mental magic they could have used for us to even identify a species. I thought you said you had an idea of howdunnit, though, little one?"

"Getting there, I promise!" Scarlet felt another warm rush. Parlor scenes, even partial parlor scenes, were the secret desire of every detective. "While I can't tell you the age, gender, or species of the culprit, I can tell you three things about them that are near certainties."

"Oh?"

Scarlet closed her eyes "First: The culprit wanted this crime to be discovered."

"How so?"

"The bell." Scarlet furrowed her brow. "I've been confused about the bell since the start of this case, and after talking with Grant I think it's finally started to make sense to me. The bell was stuffed with cotton wadding, right? But Clocktower bells are enchanted, and none of those enchantments were broken. In theory that bell should have only sounded if Floral wanted it to."

"But you just said Floral was under mental fogging magic."

"Exactly!" Scarlet clapped her hooves together. "The mental fogging magic was what should have silenced the bell, not the cotton! Stuffing the bell accomplishes only one purpose: it creates the idea of an outside culprit!"

"Creates... the idea?"

"Yeah! Like, think about it this way. If you heard a sub wandered into the borderlands gagged and couldn't recall how or why she got there until after, and her Pipsub was broken, what would you assume?"

Perique thought about it for a moment. "...I guess I'd assume that she had simply been overcome by the intensity of play, or been dehydrated or something."

"Yup!" Scarlet wriggled out of Perique's lap and began pacing furiously around the room. "And the broken Pipsub could just be explained by someone getting a bit too rough during play! But if you add in cotton wadding, what does it say? That the sub wasn't just heading out on her own, she was sent there by someone. Therefore, the criminal definitely wanted someone to realize that they exist!"

Perique nodded. Scarlet studied her marefriend's face as she allowed the information to sink in. "Then... why? What purpose would that serve?"

"Misdirection." Scarlet smirked. "Easy misdirection. Since we know the criminal wanted other ponies to recognize that a criminal act had been committed, we can presume they benefit in some way from that recognition. If this were, say, a jewel heist or a series of crimes, I'd assume they were after notoriety - that this was a calling card. Right now, though, my best guess is that they are planning to use the investigation to benefit themselves in some way."

"So..." Perique clapped her own hooves together. "They have someone they want to turn into the culprit?"

"Exactly!" Scarlet pounced forward, kissing Perique on her cheek. "It's exactly that, you got it, yes! They're running a frame job of some kind! They want somepony else to take the blame! And that leads me to a third conclusion. Now, this pony might be like, honestly stupid. But I don't think they're stupid- they were smart enough to get around the Clocktower safeguards, for instance. So if they're not stupid and they're triggering an investigation on purpose..." she trailed off, waiting for Perique.

"They think they're above investigation in some way," Perique finished, a look of moderate awe written on her face.

Scarlet danced a bit in place. "Oh my, yes, you are awesome, I'm in love, yes! And more than that, if they think they're in a place where the investigation can't or won't touch them, that only means a few things: either they're so remotely related to the case that nopony is thinking about them, or they're confident they can control and influence the investigation themselves!"

Perique leaped out of her chair. "...Scarlet, we should go see Nurse Redheart."

Scarlet cheered. "Yes, exactly! Nurse- wait what?"

"I know she and you have had differences, little one," Perique chided, enveloping Scarlet in a comforting wing. "But you are not the only one here capable of deductive analysis. Think about this: we were able to profile our motive thanks to you. But it's the means that will help us determine more specifics about our criminal."

Scarlet let the information flow through her. Her train connected. "A toxicology report?"

"Ponyville General may not have the information now, but they will certainly be better at retrieving it than either of us," Perique confirmed.

Scarlet tackled her to the floor and leaned into the kiss.

Author's Note

Hi kids, I brought you sex!

In Which the Tide Comes In

Chapter Four: In Which the Tide Comes In

Scarlet shuddered as she and Perique sat in the waiting room of Ponyville General. "Are you absolutely sure we need Nurse Redheart to get the toxicology reports?" she whined.

"I'm certain." Perique continued to turn the pages of her copy of The Rose Without a Name. "Little one, if you really don't want to be here, you don't have to be."

Scarlet flushed with embarrassment. She remembered her grandmother telling that the difference between being a child and an adult was that adults knew when they had to do things, even if they didn't want to. The lesson had stuck with her to this day. It was how she knew that no matter how old she got, she was not an actual adult. "I'll stay here," she said out loud, pushing back against her seat. "I mean, I want to know what happened and you're right that this will help but... does it have to be Nurse Redheart?"

"Name another employee who both of us know with access to the patient's records, information about how she ended up in her condition, and any chance of sharing that information with the two of us."

"Just because I can't do it right now doesn't mean they don't exist!"

"Um."

Scarlet blinked. That voice was, while musical, far too high to be Perique's. She turned to face the source and immediately had six heart attacks.

It was impossible for anypony to be that cute. The silver-coated unicorn mare sitting to her left was clearly a facsimile of some variety. She had been put together by some kind of cunning dollmaker, and she was here to fight her sisters for the right to be a real mare - no, that was the plot of Rose and Maiden, which Scarlet found herself suddenly wanting to re-read.

The adorable creature brushed a wayward lock of her golden mane away from her eyes and shrank back from Scarlet. "Um... uh, you're staring at me, a little?"

Oh dear. She'd hurt the cute one's feelings. Scarlet flinched back into her seat. "Oh gosh, sorry!"

"Anyway, um," the vision of cuteness cleared her throat awkwardly. "You two are the ones everypony is talking about, right?"

"I would suppose that depends on what everypony is saying," Perique answered. Scarlet noticed her tensing ever so slightly as she did.

"Well, um, I just, I heard you two were looking for the pony who went after Floral, and I um- well, I wanted to warn you that you probably shouldn't." She stared at the floor, sadly.

Scarlet noticed Perique shift herself slightly, ready to stand up in case of a confrontation. "And you are?"

"Um, I'm Simple Syrup."

Dear Celestia. Even her name was sugar-sweet and adorable. And her accent was adorably foreign. Vanhoover? There was so much of that going around lately.

Scarlet frowned. First the Legion, now cuteness incarnate had decided to bar the way? This was unfair. Most detectives had to deal with corrupt police interference at best. "I think we can deal with whatever is coming," she huffed, turning away from the cherub in pony form.

"It's not that!" the perfect vision squeaked.

Scarlet turned in spite of herself. The more she looked at this mare - her perfect little dimpled cheeks, her shapely contours, those glassy and perfect eyes - she just wanted to pick her up and squeeze her and snuggle her and never let her go. "So, what is it?"

"It's just, um. I knew Floral back in school and, um. I think she's... I think I know what got her in the end. And you can't catch it."

Scarlet, for the first time, managed to register anything about the new pony other than "cute".

She was younger than Floral, perhaps. A bit on the plumper side, and pleasantly so. Her mane appeared at first glance to have many errant locks and curls, but closer inspection revealed it had been well cared for and tightly groomed. Her horn was well polished. Her cutie mark displayed a shooting star, a rainbow trail stretching out behind it. A wicker basket piled high with muffins and baked goodies rested beneath her seat.

"You're new in Ponyville, right?" Scarlet ventured.

"H-what?" Syrup gasped, shrinking back in surprise. "I'm that obvious?"

"No, but that basket looks like a party favor from Sugarcube Corner. Pinkie Pie likes to spring those on ponies." Scarlet smiled in what she hoped was a disarming way. "So tell us, if you're new in town, have you kept in touch with Floral?"

"Not - not really. I'd heard she moved here, but um," Simple Syrup wrinkled her nose and sighed. "I kind of had to, um, disengage for a while."

"Disengage?" This time it was Perique who piped up.

"Mm, um, yes. Yeah. She was, uh. Sorry. I'm trying to put this in like, diplomatic fashion," Simple Syrup half-mumbled.

"Self-destructive?" Scarlet supplied.

"Mm, yes," the unicorn mare nodded, smiling in gratitude. "Yes, um, exactly like that. She um, when we were in school together, she used to, like... how do I put this? She'd put all her pain into fantasies, and run away from it." She sighed and shook her head. "I-I figure... she just, um,"

"I can already tell what you're thinking," Scarlet interrupted. "Don't bother."

"What?" The unicorn's eyes flashed with annoyance for a moment and softened again. "I mean, I appreciate what you're doing, but you can't just-"

"I constructed this scenario in my head the moment I heard what happened," Scarlet continued. "Let me lay it out for you. Floral Fragrance is sad, disturbed, and self-destructive. She wants to hurt herself, but can't get up the courage to let it be 'her own fault'. So she stuffs her own safety bell with cotton, and she breaks her own PipSub. Once she finishes that she self-induces a mental trance and goes to the Borderlands, hoping somepony there will take advantage of her."

"So you suspected?" Simple Syrup gasped, bringing her hooves to her mouth. "Oh, goodness! Then-"

"Then I realized it was unlikely," Scarlet interrupted. "She didn't own the gag she was found with. The cotton wadding pointed to someone trying to indicate an external culprit. Everything so far points away from her."

"Um.." Syrup furrowed her brow. "Doesn't that like, indicate the opposite though?"

Scarlet blinked. Was the cute pony actually offering a counter-argument?

"Um. Like. There's plenty of ways to get somepony else's gag in the Society," Syrup continued, apparently oblivious to Scarlet's shock. "I could do it pretty easy if I wanted to, even. And as for wadding, she could have done that to throw suspicion off herself as easily as, um, anypony else. So um. I think it's just. More likely. Given what I know about her..."

Scarlet looked away from Syrup and toward Perique. Perique nodded. "It seems at least plausible, little one."

"Drat." Scarlet bit her lip, her cheeks flushing red. "I... I hadn't thought of that. I'm so stupid! That's such an obvious way to look at things." With great effort she met Simple Syrup's gaze and smiled. "Thank you."

The unicorn mare smiled back with relief. "So um, you guys believe me?"

"That you know Floral? Yeah." Scarlet shook her head. "But in your solution? I'm not convinced yet. I think it's certainly possible, though."

Syrup's smile melted into a mild frown which, framed by her dimples, somehow managed to make her seem even more adorable. "But like, why? Are you her friend, or something?"

Scarlet closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "No. Not even remotely. She's been my marefriend's neighbor for a while now, and I never even bothered to say hi to her before all this. This doesn't really have anything to do with her."

"Then why?"

"If I had to give you a reason, it's that it's too simple an answer," Scarlet sighed. "That's all."

"Miss Syrup?" The voice of a young stallion rang out from the waiting-room's doorway. "Your friend is ready for you now."

"Um. If you aren't going to give up then, uh, good luck I guess." Simple Syrup raised herself to her hooves and lifted her muffin-basket as she cantered away. "Just, um. Don't be too disappointed if it turns out the answer's too easy."

As the door closed behind both nurse and Syrup, Scarlet pressed herself back into the fabric of her seat.

"What now, little one?" Perique asked, moving close to nuzzle her.

Scarlet relaxed, letting Perique's wings fold around her and craning her head to accept scratches. "I don't think anything changes now. We're gonna solve this just like we said we were going to."

Scarlet's Notes on the Torch Legion:

Normal cities have policemares or a night watch. Royal cities like Canterlot have the Guard. The Clocktower Society has that too, but we also have the Torch Legion.

How best to describe them? Imagine your country's military. Now, your military has an elite force, right? A specialized, prestigious unit. Not just anypony gets in, you mention it in your job history and you instantly get hired as private security or a bodyguard for anyone you want, that kind of thing? Well, imagine a country took that unit of its military and it just donated it to a kink club. There you are, that's the Torch Legion.

This makes more sense when you remember this kink club basically exists to ensure that enough ponies are fucking at any one time to keep the world from literally freezing over.

The thing about the Legion, though, is that unlike a general military they get called on quite often to do police work. Somebody breaks the rules really bad, it's the Legion's job to track them down. And, bless their hearts, they have some of the best wizards in the business and certainly some of the fittest looking mares and stallions I've ever seen - I mean, damn some of those mares - but it's important to remember they're trained to protect and serve first.

What I mean is, the Torch Legion aren't detectives.

Scarlet had rules for dealing with ponies who made her feel uncomfortable: be calm, keep her head down, and avoid provoking them as much as possible. If you did those things you could usually dodge the situation by excusing yourself the moment you had accomplished the bare minimum of whatever business had brought you there in the first place. If you brought a friend, it worked even better. Use her as a shield, and you had to interact half as often.

The problem with these rules was that they really didn't help when you had two ponies who made you feel uncomfortable right next to each other in a tiny space.

Nurse Redheart had indeed been waiting outside Floral's room. Scarlet had expected that. She had not anticipated Praiseworthy Virtue to be waiting as well. Nor had she expected the two to look so deeply disgusted already. They were glaring at each other, and at any moment Scarlet thought she'd see one or the other break the standoff and begin a shouting match.

Scarlet was struck by a sudden urge to flee. Take Perique, run to Sugarcube Corner, get a bun. They could spend a pleasant evening together eating pastry and snuggling, and they wouldn't have to worry about the toxicology report until tomorrow. Everything would be fine. They had time.

Scarlet thought of High Tide and his bloodshot eyes and his stinking breath.

Scarlet cleared her throat. "Um..."

Both Redheart and Praiseworthy turned their heads, and both gave the same exasperated sigh. Scarlet flinched and stared at the floor. It didn't keep the bite of Praiseworthy's voice out of her ears. "Ah, the little detective and her handler. Tell me, what are you doing here? I distinctly remember informing you today that the Torch Legion has a suspect well in hoof."

Scarlet felt Perique's wing enveloping her. "And we appreciate thy concern," Perique replied, hugging Scarlet close to her side, "but thou'rt out of line to suggest a talented pony avoid thy investigation in this way."

"Am I?" Scarlet managed to meet Praiseworthy's gaze for only a moment before looking away. "Am I, really? Because what I see isn't a talented investigator. It's a little lost pet playing hero for her own satisfaction. Even she can tell. That's why you can't meet my gaze, isn't it?"

Scarlet felt a lump in her throat form, but just as suddenly felt a flush of heat moving through her body. "...say that again," she muttered.

"Speak up," Praiseworthy snapped.

Scarlet took a deep breath and shook off Perique's wing. She closed her eyes and raised her head. When she opened them she was staring into Praiseworthy's."I said," she enunciated, taking extra time with each word, "say. That. Again. But you know what? On second thought, don't. I'm not avoiding your eyes because I'm guilty, I'm avoiding them because eyes are really fucking tricky and because I think you're fucking attractive in spite of being an absolute and total ass!"

The words rang through the hallway and Scarlet felt adrenaline buzzing through her veins, reducing her thoughts to a low buzz. She'd done it. She'd actually told off a Torch Legion member. This was going to backfire so hard but it was so worth it.

Praiseworthy turned to Nurse Redheart, ignoring Scarlet entirely. "Nurse Redheart, if these two ask for any materials or information related to this investigation, I will consider it an obstruction of justice if you provide them. For all I know, they're planning to tip off our suspect." She pushed past Scarlet and Perique, deliberately passing between the smaller mares.

"Apologize," Scarlet growled.

Praiseworthy stopped in her tracks. "For what? Doing my job? Keeping you two out of harm's way and ensuring minimal risk to an ongoing investigation?"

"For saying I need to be gagged more often. We weren't in play, I was at my marefriend's house having breakfast, and you showed up to intimidate me. I'm a sub, not a fucking child." Scarlet realized that she actually believed what she was saying. She wasn't sure if that was more terrifying or surprising.

"Praiseworthy," Perique added, crossing between Scarlet and the Legion mare, "you do owe her at least that much."

"And you two owe me the courtesy of leaving investigations to the professionals," Praiseworthy snapped.

Scarlet hissed as the unicorn mare disappeared. Then she realized exactly how dizzy she felt, and how much her legs were shaking, and how easy it would be to just collapse next to Perique. "I did it," she marveled. "I actually - I actually did it."

"I never thought I'd say this, but I'm sorry that happened to you, Scarlet," Nurse Redheart said.

"Don't be," Scarlet assured her, leaning in as Perique began to stroke her mane. "I think she's angry because I figured out who her suspect is already." She turned to look at Redheart. "So um. I guess telling us what substances you suspect were used on Floral is out of the question?"

A devious smirk played across Nurse Redheart's lips. "Absolutely out of the question, not under direct orders from a legionnaire. I can't tell you that no official toxicology report exists yet, or that I did any sort of informal investigation. That's why I'm also not telling you about the fact that when I did so, I confirmed that Floral's showed signs of using high-grade salts quite recently."

"High-grade salts," Scarlet mused. "Thank you for not sharing."

"I don't like when ponies tell me how to best protect my patients. Or my friends." Nurse Redheart gestured down the hallway. "You two should go now."

"Our thanks, sweet Nurse." Perique swept Scarlet under her wing and the two began to make their exit.

Scarlet grinned in spite of herself. Salts. Of all things, salts. It all felt like it was falling into place. "Actually, one more thing!" she called to Nurse Redheart, turning around.

"Make it quick, I do have to get back to my rounds."

Scarlet squinted. Was that a smile playing around the corners of Nurse Redheart's lips, or was she imagining things? "The salts I don't know about, hypothetically speaking. Has more than one pony in town been using this same kind of salt?"

Nurse Redheart pursed her lips. "I certainly don't know of at least three others, one of whom is actually connected to the case."

"Pity. Thank you anyway!"

The Ponyville Weather Team were busily arranging clouds into a fluffy, grey blanket in preparation for the afternoon's scheduled shower when Scarlet and Perique left the hospital. Scarlet frowned. "Well, I suppose time wasn't on our side to begin with. We need to hurry over to see High Tide, ideally before the Legion pick him up." She set off at a brisk trot.

"You think she's going to be making an arrest this soon?" Perique asked, easily matching Scarlet's pace. "And how are you so sure that he's the suspect?'

Scarlet grinned and increased her pace, moving just a hair ahead of Perique. "I admit, it was an educated guess before. What Nurse Redheart just told us almost certainly confirms it, though."

"The salts?" Perique hummed to herself for a moment. "I suppose that does establish a link between the two, but you were certain even before you heard that. Why?"

The first raindrop spattered into the dirt path the two followed, and Scarlet frowned at it. "Think about High Tide for a moment."

"Hmmm..."

"We know, for instance, he's suffering from depression, right? And he's fixated on Floral Fragrance. That much is obvious from the way he talked about her," Scarlet continued without waiting for Perique's conclusion. "He mentioned that he's close to getting kicked out of the Society as well, and he was willing to attack even somepony who objectively saved Floral. Add to that his use of low-grade booze and high-grade salts as a coping mechanism, and..."

"...And he seems like the kind of pony the Torch Legion might have already had on a watchlist," Perique finished for her. "Excellent thinking, little one."

Scarlet practically skipped, the praise sending a bubbling jet of happiness through her entire body. "Thanks, mama!" she chirped, pressing herself close to Perique's side. "Pets?" Perique reached over with a leathery wing and rubbed the very top of Scarlet's mane, tousling it gently. Scarlet felt herself nearly melt as they turned the next corner. "Of course, it goes beyond that if you apply a little imagination."

"Oh?"

"Well, I can't prove anything until we talk to High Tide or Floral but let's suppose that, say, High Tide is feeling very possessive of her. And he makes that very clear to her. Maybe he intimidates a dom she plays with. Maybe he begs her not to go out into the Borderlands, or he lectures her about it. Whatever he does, it's creepy and weird and she doesn't like it. What do you think she does after that?"

"Immediately reports it to the Guard," Perique answered without missing a beat.

"One, yes. Two, I love you and you're perfect." Scarlet pecked Perique's cheek, noting the slight flush in the batpony's cheeks with satisfaction. "So High Tide's behavior gets reported. It's a first-time offense so all he gets is maybe a stern talking to or some stink-eye. After that he backs off a bit but the Legion keeps an eye on him. You know, just in case."

"And that leads us here," Perique mused.

"There's something else too," Scarlet admitted, "but I want to talk to High Tide before we get to that." She came to a halt just outside High Tide's home. "Unfortunately, Praiseworthy has probably made good use of her head start."

"You think she's been here already, then?"

"I'd put bits on it if I had any with me." Scarlet strode up to the front door and knocked. To her surprise, she felt no real nervousness this time. It was just a visit to a friend or client. A friend or client with severe alcoholism and an addiction to particularly nasty substances, but under the circumstances it didn't much matter.

The door swung open and Scarlet looked directly into High Tide's chest. With effort, she craned her neck up to get a good look at his face. The pegasus was just as drunk as the last time she had seen him. He was also tired. His face was sagging, his shoulders drooped, and she could feel the exhaustion weighing him down. She tried to say something, but looking into his vacant eyes she found her words strangling themselves half-formed in her mind.

"Oh. It's you," High Tide said at last, his voice as empty as his stare.

"It's us," Scarlet confirmed. "We just wanted to check up on you again."

"Uh-huh."

This was bad. She had expected him to be angry, upset, vitriolic at the absolute injustice of being falsely accused. Here he was gripped by exhaustion and melancholy. With the right push, she could probably convince him to sign a confession regardless of guilt. Maybe Praiseworthy already had. Scarlet searched frantically for something to say.

"Mr. Tide," Perique intervened, drawing close, "let me make you something to eat."

A spark of life flickered in High Tide's eyes. "Something to eat?" he asked. He sounded like he was saying the words for the first time.

"Yes. I'm no professional, but there's quite a bit I'm capable of. I seem to remember you have a quite nice kitchen from our visit the other day, and you look as though you have been starving yourself." Perique drew herself up, almost reaching High Tide's height as slumped over and haggard as he was.

"What would Floral say if she saw you starving yourself like this?" Scarlet added.

"...I'd like that," he admitted.

That was when the rain began to fall in earnest.

Scarlet stirred the contents of her bowl and inhaled the heavenly aroma.

Scouring High TIde's kitchen for ingredients had revealed a surprising bounty. While some of the food in his pantry was old enough to alleviate Scarlet's guilt about her own hoarding habits, Perique had been quite impressed by the contents of his spice rack. Scarlet had located some delicious heirloom tomatoes fresh from Ponyville's farmer's market as well as a nearly-clean stock pot. Under Perique's guidance the two had set to work.

The fruit of their labor was a bowl of deep, red deliciousness. One sip warmed Scarlet's body to the core and teased her mouth with errant bites of exotic spice. She ripped off a bit of the crusty baguette she had found hidden in High Tide's refrigerator and dipped it into the soup, then bit down, enjoying the flavors as they flowed out. Across the table she could see Perique doing the same.

High Tide didn't move for a minute or two, and Scarlet found herself split between encouraging him to take a taste and asking if she could have his portion. At last the bewitching aroma overcame his defenses, and he tilted the bowl to his lips. A warm smile crossed across his face, unbidden, as he smacked them in satisfaction.

A vision filled Scarlet's head. A vision of a younger High Tide, still rough and scarred from his work on the seas but less angry and miserable. A rough stallion, but a stallion who smiled easily, laughed loudly, and spoke his mind without thinking. That High Tide was the kind of stallion somepony might fall in love with almost without noticing.

High Tide set his bowl down, nearly empty. "Thank you both," he managed. His smile was fading, but the vacant emptiness from his earlier expression had yet to return.

"Think nothing of it, friend," Perique said as she set her own bowl down. "In the Old Colony, the priests of the Night-Mother teach us that to show friendship is to serve others in their time of need, and that to set food before the hungry is to show devotion to our ruler. You are quite hungry."

Scarlet felt her stomach make a small, happy flip. Perique didn't often speak of the teachings of her faith, but each time she did Scarlet found herself wanting more.

High Tide sighed. "I ain't... I haven't...." Scarlet felt her heart go out to him as he searched for words and found none. "I thought everypony had given up on me."

"I haven't." Scarlet wondered who had said that, and was surprised to realize it was herself. And that she believed it. "And you probably shouldn't worry too much about Praiseworthy." She saw High Tide stiffen and tense at the name. "She did visit you, then?"

High TIde nodded somberly. "She... I thought she was here to, to take a statement. Talk to me about Floral or something. And then she starts asking me about salts, and where Floral got them. Tells me not to leave the house. She. She looked at me like I'd done it." He looked from Scarlet to Perique and back again. "Is that what everypony thinks? That it was me?"

"I am sure not everypony thinks that," Perique began.

"It doesn't look good though," Scarlet cut in. She had been waiting for this since they arrived, and couldn't help the feeling of euphoria that washed over her as she stood up and crossed to the corner of the room. "They found evidence that Floral was using salts. I'm going to guess they're the same kind you've been using yourself, aren't they?"

High Tide flinched. "I ain't using-"

"Don't play dumb." Scarlet rolled her eyes. "I'm a shut-in but even I can see the signs. High Tide, why does a pony who belongs to the sea move inland? When the fishing trade takes a hit, sure, you have to find work where you can manage it - but why not another coastal town? Why not a place where your strength is valuable, someplace under constant construction like Los Pegasus?"

She saw High Tide's mouth fall open a little and smirked. "So I'm right, aren't I?"

Perique looked back and forth from High Tide to Scarlet. "...Little one, I feel somewhat out of the loop."

"It's pretty simple when you think about it. Why does a pony who lives by the sea come inland, and what do they do there? They bring the sea back with them. High Tide here isn't just a salt user, no ma'am." Scarlet smiled as sweetly as she could at High Tide, enjoying the surprise spreading across his face. "He's a dealer."

High Tide buried his head in his hooves. "How'd you know?"

"Didn't know. Suspected," Scarlet corrected him. "Now I do. Don't worry, I don't think you're our mystery assailant. Though lying to me the way you did last time Perique and I checked in on you isn't going to help your case. I imagine it looked even worse if you tried it on Praiseworthy."

High Tide shook his head, as if trying to clear it. "That ain't what it was though," he protested. "I just. I just..."

Perique crossed to the pegasus's side and caressed his shoulder with her wing. "Be at peace," she whispered. "Be at peace and let not your past crimes scar you. 'Tis the night-mother's creed." High Tide didn't respond out loud, simply nodding.

Scarlet returned to her chair. "High Tide, let me make something very clear to you. I am a detective. My goal is to uncover the truth by any means necessary. I'm not doing this to save you. I'm doing this because I want to know what really happened. For what it's worth, I do not think you are the pony I'm after, but I'm not here to pull you out of a pit you dug for yourself. I can't stand it when ponies lie to me."

"I didn't mean to," High Tide protested. "I just couldn't say it! I couldn't. I can't. I can't admit she's-"

"That she never loved you?" Scarlet supplied.

Before the words had even left her mouth, she saw something in High Tide break to pieces. The stallion began to sob uncontrollably, tears rolling down his face. Perique moved close to hug him. Scarlet, after a moment, did the same.

They stayed like that for a while.

"So you knew all along?" Perique asked.

Scarlet sank into her chair. They had commandeered High Tide's living room while he recovered upstairs. She felt bad for him. The dam that had broken had been holding his tears back for a long time, and it might be a while before the flow subsided. "I never know," she corrected Perique. "I just have good hunches."

"Very good hunches, little one," Perique mused. "Both on your way here, and all that you said to High Tide? Thy suspicions have been quite well-informed." Scarlet shuddered a bit with pleasure as Perique let her Old-Colony accent show through.

"It's... well, it's all there. I didn't know all of it until now, but the more things played out, the more certain I became," she answered, trying to stifle her own pride. "It's just guesswork though."

"Really now." A smile played across Perique's lips. "Suppose thou takest some time to inform thy Mama of just what went through thy mind until now, little one?"

Even without the encouragement she had been having a hard time holding herself back. Perique telling her to go ahead in that way, with that voice? Scarlet thought she might melt. "Well, let's start where I did then - the house."

Perique cast her gaze around the room. "The house? And how did that factor into thy reasoning"

"Indirectly," Scarlet admitted. "But it was significant. When you look at this house and High Tide, it's easy to see the root of his depression is related to how much he misses the sea. I can't blame him for that either. If I couldn't practice my vocation, I'd go to pieces." Unbidden memories of her last attempt at a regular job overwhelmed her. "I do go to pieces, honestly."

"Thou findest in him a kindred spirit then?" Perique probed.

Scarlet frowned. "I... I suppose I do." She tried to reorient herself, gathering her thoughts again. "Anyway my point was I could tell he was depressed because he was away from the sea. He's been drinking to deal with it. The salt use factored in as well. And Floral? She's something else he was using." Scarlet half-smiled. "Remember what he said about her when we first met?"

"Let me see... that she did not mind him being gentle in aftercare?"

"You've got it. Our friend has trouble expressing himself. For a stallion like him, a mare who likes rough play but doesn't give him problems when he wants to be nice must have seemed like a dream. Dreaming of a relationship with her must have helped him keep things together. Just like filling his house with all this fishing tackle." Scarlet brushed the strands of the net hanging on the wall with a hoof. "Dreams to keep his personal demons at bay."

"That explains thy knowledge of his lies. I noticed too, his claims that she was his. Floral wears a red collar. Not what I would expect from an attached sub." Perique smiled. "Well thought out, little one. Though thou still hast much to explain. How, for instance, do you account for thy knowledge of High Tide's new career?"

"That? Oh, it was sheer guesswork," Scarlet chuckled, slightly embarrassed. "Honestly it was kind of flimsy reasoning but it all fit together in the end. We know Praiseworthy has reason to dislike High Tide, right?"

"Aye, but how does that factor in?"

"It's how I guessed. Actually, that was what got me thinking about it in the first place. At first I figured High Tide was just a salt-user, trying to drown his depression in it. I figured he'd be a suspect because if he's this possessive of Floral, she might have already complained to the Torch Legion once."

"We discussed as much on the trip over," Perique confirmed.

"Uh-huh. But then Nurse Redheart mentioned Floral had used salts. If they're the same salts as High Tide, that means there's another link we hadn't considered." Scarlet smiled. "And she was also kind enough to confirm multiple ponies in town were using them, so I suspected a local dealer."

"But that could simply prove that the two shared a supplier. Why go farther, little one?"

"Two reasons. It was a bit of a stretch, but when I saw High Tide's reaction, I realized I was on the right track." Scarlet held up one hoof the way she sometime saw Gilda holding up a talon, and regretted she didn't have individual claws to count off on. "First, where do salts come from? The ocean. Salt is refined from seawater. What pony in this town has a better connection to a coastal region than High Tide?"

"Hmmm. Still a stretch, little one, but I follow. What else?" Perique coaxed.

"The second reason was Praiseworthy's fixation. And it got me thinking, what if it wasn't simply an issue of being possessive? Plenty of doms speak possessively when they shouldn't, and not all are under investigation. What if Floral hadn't reported him for creeping on her? What if he attracted attention doing something a bit shadier? Say... promoting his wares on Clocktower grounds?"

Perique gave a low gasp of surprise. "He would never have been allowed to sell such a product there for use. It goes strictly against the rules."

"No, taking it onto Clocktower grounds is against the rules. Using it in the Society is against the rules. Mentioning you sell it out of your home by mail-order to a submissive in an aftercare room or to a fellow dom while you're discussing bondage tips or something? It's not encouraged, but nothing says you can't." Scarlet smiled. "High Tide is bad at admitting his feelings, but he's even worse at thinking about how other ponies will interpret what he says. Just look at everything he's done so far in this case!"

"And this led thee to taking a shot."

"The moment he said that Praiseworthy was asking where Floral got her salts, I knew I was on the right track."

"Very well thought out, little one!"

"Thank you, Mama!" Scarlet chirped. She felt a twinge of embarrassment as she said it, but it was overwhelmed by the euphoria of triumph.

"That does leave us with another awkward question." Perique pursed her lips. "Who might have done this?"

"I have one idea," Scarlet admitted. "Well, two. They're both a bit of a stretch until we find a final clue. And if Praiseworthy's already here, we're on a time limit. High Tide could be in jail by tomorrow." She leaped from her seat. "Do you think he's alright to talk to yet?"

"Alright as I'll ever be."

Scarlet jumped in surprise, a squeak of shock leaping to her lips unbidden. High Tide stood in the doorway of the living room. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" she protested.

"Little one, he has been there listening for the past minute," Perique chided her. "I would have said something, but I thought thou hadst taken note of him already."

Scarlet felt her cheeks turning crimson. "Oh." She searched desperately for some way to repair the situation. "Hey, um, I just wanted to..."

"It's alright," High Tide assured her. Scarlet took a better look at him. His face was covered in tear stains and his eyes were still reddened, but underneath he looked healthier than he had at any other point in their short acquaintance. "You're not wrong. It's my fault I'm in this mess now. Floral was... she was never mine. She's never been mine. Probably never will be." He sniffled a bit.

Scarlet tried to find something to say to comfort him but here, with his secrets in the open already, she found she had nothing to add.

"Anyway I'm... I'm grateful for what you're doing. For her. And for me now, I guess." High Tide managed, regaining control of himself. "If... if I make it out of this without doing time, I'm going into rehab. Taking some time to put myself back together."

"I can recommend a few places," Perique offered.

High tide nodded. "S'funny. When my old captain offered to cut me in as one of his dealers, I thought it'd be fun. Good money, no back-breaking work, no wondering if the next catch will be enough to keep food on my plate." He fell silent.

"And now?" Scarlet asked.

"Now I'm up to my wingtips in debt an' everything good in my life's gone out like the tide. Listen to me and listen well. If anypony tells you to run away from a job you love for money, for ease, for anything? Buck 'em upside the head. I should've. I should've done a lot of things." High Tide lifted his hoof. A small necklace dangled from a it. It was a plain, black cord with a bright piece of what looked like polished and carved jade hanging from it. "Listen. If they end up takin' me in, this is gonna do me no good. So it's yours now."

He tossed it into the air. Scarlet barely managed to catch it, nearly losing her grip a moment later. "You're sure?" she asked. "I'm not looking for payment and I can't promise we'll save you."

"Ain't about payment. It's about letting go." High Tide closed his eyes. "That was my grandma's. My grandpa carved it for her back in the old days, when he was a river-driver. Came from a mine right on the shore. My ma told me to give it to somepony special. I was savin' it for Floral. Instead, all I gave her was salts and a chronic case of wantin' nothing to do with me. Broke my heart somethin' awful. I tried to pretend she was mine to make it easier. Made things worse."

Scarlet took a closer look at the carved jade. It had been shaped into a small anchor, much like High Tide's own cutie mark. She strung it around her neck and smiled. "I promise I'll return this once we expose the real culprit."

"Nah. Forget it," High Tide shook his head. "I'm done thinkin' about love for now. Give it to your sweetheart instead. Then it'll be making somepony happy instead of making me miserable."

Scarlet fondled the anchor with a hoof. It didn't match Perique's sensibilities, but on the other hoof, there was a griffon she could think of who might at least find it a sweet gesture. And after High Tide's comments the other day, maybe this was karmic justice. "I'll do that."

"Thank you. Now you all had better go." High Tide gestured to the door. "I don't know when the Legion are coming back to pick me up, but I don't want you two caught up in that."

"Of course." Perique rose from her chair. "I thank thee for thy hospitality, and wish thee luck." Scarlet could think of nothing to add, and simply joined her.

"Oh. One more thing!" High Tide called just they passed through.

Scarlet turned her head. "What's that?"

"I remembered!" High Tide answered. "Not her name, but I remembered!"

"Remembered what?" Scarlet pursed her lip. "Who?"

"What you asked last time. I did play with someone other than Floral before. Took me a while to remember it. Had to sober up some." High Tide scratched the back of his head with a hoof. "I remember she was a white collar. Sweet girl. Nothing else though. Rest of the night's a blur. I got myself right wasted afterward."

"Don't worry." Scarlet's lips curled into a smile. "I think that about settles what happened."

"It does?"

The rain, which had dwindled into a light drizzle, began to pick up again.

"I'll tell you later!" Scarlet called over her shoulder as she and Perique dashed around the corner, looking for shelter.

That was it. The final piece.

The only question now was who it best fit?

Scarlet's Address to the Reader:

Hello.

If you are for some reason going through my notes of the Safety Bell Incident, first, I'd like to inform you that I never intended to have these published. If for some reason they were, many names have been changed to protect the innocent. I hope.

Second, though, I imagine I've published them to indulge my egotism. I'm curious. Do you see the same thing I have seen?

If you continue any further into these notes, the culprit will be unmasked. We've met every major player by now. Every mare and stallion who factors into this sordid tale. I'm sure you've ruled a few out - I did too - but as with any good mystery, a twist ending is quite possible. Have you forgotten how nervous Grant was, for instance? I attributed that to losing his position as a student, but we only have his word that Floral was already bound and fogged when he found her.

The mysterious angel, Simple Syrup? She seems to know something about Floral. But is the culprit really somepony who appears so late in the story? I wouldn't be particularly satisfied with that, myself.

What of Floral herself? If any mare had the best means and opportunity to accomplish this crime, it'd be her. Did she perhaps drown herself in fantasy? We know she was using salts at the time, quite against Clocktower rules.

What of Praiseworthy? As a Legionnaire she is in the best possible position to guide the investigation. Why has she spent so much time trying to cut off both myself and Perique? Is she really that disgusted with us and High Tide? Or is she trying to create a plausible culprit herself?

Oh, and I'd be remiss if I ruled out High Tide entirely. Perhaps he wasn't the mastermind of the crime, but could he have deliberately assisted and offered to shield Floral? Perhaps in an effort to make up for his own crimes?

Here I give you every possibility. I assure you at least one of them is not entirely a falsehood. And now, reader, if you are seeing this, I can't resist.

Do you see what I see?

Let's match wits, you and I.

In Which a Conclusion is Drawn

It was already late when Scarlet and Perique arrived at the Society.

Scarlet tugged nervously at her collar. She'd put it on out of habit more than anything else, and she knew that before at least one conversation she planned on having it would need to come back off again. On the other hoof, it was hers and it was comfortable, and there was something delicious about walking pressed next to Perique while wearing a padlocked collar indicating just who she belonged to. It was such a nice feeling, belonging.

When you knew that, it all made sense.

"I trust you have a plan, little one?" Perique murmured.

They were crossing a busy public area now. Scarlet could see a tour group passing overhead, and caught sight of a passing tour group on a raised platform above, and spread throughout the area the doms and subs of the main site were performing the evening ritual of hunting for partners. Red and white collared submissives cooed at passing stallions and mares while masked dominants silently perused their options. It was erotic, if you liked that sort of thing.

Scarlet had to tear her attention away and bite down on her lip. Business before pleasure. "I sort of have a plan," she admitted. "Sort of."

"Sort of?" Perique snorted. "Little one, what kind of plan is 'sort of'?"

"Well, I know what we're going to do. A lot of it just depends on whether I'm right and everyone's here tonight. If Praiseworthy's here gearing up to get High Tide, we've found the culprit." Scarlet pointed down a long corridor, towards a pair of patrolling guardsmares. "We need to get a chance to interrupt them, now."

"And we're doing that by...?"

"That's the part that makes this a 'sort of' plan." Scarlet forged ahead towards the guardsmares. "We're going to start by demanding an audience."

"They are not going to give us an audience."

"We still have to try something."

The guardsmares halted as Scarlet and Perique blocked their path. They were both outfitted as Dawn Guards, and Scarlet suspected they were on loan from one of the units. One carried a standard-issue spear in her golden nimbus of magic. The other had what Scarlet recognized as hoofblades equipped. That was troubling. Armed guards in the Clocktower usually meant somepony expected a chase, and not the kind that ended in everyone involved having sex.

Scarlet lifted her head towards the spear-wielding guard, a unicorn mare with a bright red mane. "Excuse me, miss? We need to speak to the Torch Legion."

The unicorn guard's partner, a cream-colored pegasus, answered instead. "And why is that?" Scarlet flinched at the wording, even if the mare's tone indicated genuine curiosity.

Perique stepped in as Scarlet fumbled for an answer. "We have information related to an ongoing information which we would like to relate directly to the officer in charge of the case. Urgently, if possible."

"I'm afraid we can't let you," the spear-toting guard answered.

"Let me guess: our descriptions were circulated among the guards today as ponies not allowed near the investigation, under any circumstances?" Scarlet asked, as sweetly as she could manage. It almost didn't sound like a threat.

"I get it. You two are concerned about your friend. Nobody's happy about a case like this, but what he's done is done," the pegasus mare consoled them. "The Legion has this well in hoof."

"The Legion has the wrong mare. Or stallion, in this case," Scarlet countered, drawing herself up as high as she could. To her chagrin she barely reached the guardsmare's chin, which did not bode well for her ability to act physically imposing. "I'm sure you are both away of Legionnaire Praiseworthy's attitude towards the accused?"

The two guardsmares exchanged a glance then looked back. "She is... dedicated," the spear-mare admitted.

"But the evidence we received is compelling," her partner continued. "You must understand, we're not at liberty to reveal all of it-"

"We already know about the salts," Scarlet interrupted. "Anyone and their mother can tell High Tide's a salt user, and it took me about a day to figure out he was dealing them, and that's without your resources." She felt waves of palpable annoyance wafting from the guardsmares but pressed forward. "High Tide was definitely selling salts to Floral, but I can tell you already that the salts had nothing to do with what happened last night. Well, kinda. Indirectly, I mean."

"Look, Miss... Letter, wasn't it?" the pegasus answered, looming over her. "We appreciate your concern, but all you've shared so far is conjecture. If you really have hard evidence, my partner and I will be happy to take it to the Legion for you. Otherwise, i think you should go."

Perique scowled. "Is it customary, then, for the Legion to harass ponies in their homes and then claim they have obstructed an investigation?"

The guardsmares looked uncomfortable, and genuinely surprised. Scarlet felt the moment arrive, and seized it. "Also, we do have hard evidence. Not of the culprit, but evidence that's still relevant to the investigation."

The guards exchanged worried looks again. "And that evidence is?" the unicorn asked.

"Praiseworthy reported that High Tide was using salts to fog Floral's memory, right?" Scarlet asked. "If you talk to Floral herself, I think you'll find that she was experiencing a three-day high before she even came to the Society that night. I'm sure whoever was watching her will corroborate the story. I'd wager Praiseworthy herself was aware of this possibility, and deliberately forbid anypony else from interviewing Floral."

The guards sat, stunned, for a moment. "..You realize what you're accusing Legionnaire Praiseworthy of, correct?" one asked a moment later.

"Dereliction of duty? Avoiding evidence that upsets her conclusions? Yes, absolutely. I'll stop short of 'collusion', because I won't know if she and the real culprit had an arrangement until I get the chance to speak with them. Which I'm off to go do now, hopefully." Scarlet turned and began to walk away before turning her head. "By the way, did anypony visit shortly after Floral was found, claiming High TIde was seen with her earlier that evening?"

"How did you know...?" The unicorn began before her partner 'shooshed' her.

"Thought so. Let me guess. Two or three of them, including a unicorn mare with a white collar, probably a grey coat as well?"

"Wait, really, how did you know?"

"Didn't know. Suspected," Perique corrected the two, winking at Scarlet. "Now we know."

"Thank you both for your contribution to the investigation. You can rest easy, I'm off to go find a criminal now!" Scarlet blew a kiss at the guardsmares before dashing off around the nearest corner, Perique in tow.

"You still haven't mentioned who the culprit is, Scarlet." Perique nudged the smaller mare's shoulder as the two wandered the labyrinthine hallways of the Society. "Nor have you mentioned how you plan on finding them. This isn't exactly a small place."

"I haven't said their name because there's still a chance I might be mistaken," Scarlet answered as she picked a tunnel at random and wandered through it, passing yet more tourists and more happy short-term couples. "There's a small part of me hoping I'm wrong, in fact. It's not the kind of answer that makes me happy."

"But you have an answer?" Perique pressed. The two had emerged from this tunnel into the outskirts of the City, and they carefully avoided setting foot into the actual center. Above them, pegasi and batponies wheeled as they engaged in high-speed chases.

"I do." Scarlet stopped short, thought for a moment, and turned right, pointing herself vaguely in the direction of Pet Town. "As for how we're finding our suspect, at this point I'm just going places I think we're likely to encounter her."

"'Her'?" Perique started back in surprise. "You suspect Praiseworthy, then?"

Scarlet sighed and paused. They were crossing the outskirts of Pet Town now, and the sound of six or seven pegasi making happy 'tweets' as their doms teased them were drowning out her other thoughts. "Praiseworthy is not the culprit. She had every motivation to destroy High Tide, and every motivation to sabotage the investigation. That said, she would never hurt Floral. That's not the kind of pony she is."

"Then who could you possibly be referring to? There aren't any other mares remotely connected with the crime except Floral, and she's not here right now."

"There's one. The sub High Tide was playing with, the white-collar he can't remember."

"But he couldn't remember who she was!"

"I know who she was."

Scarlet felt a slow grin spreading across her face as she stared out into Pet Town's 'dog park'.

There she was. She had practically gift-wrapped herself.

The unicorn mare was as gorgeous as she remembered, perhaps even moreso given her new context. Which, as of this moment, was taking a blue-coated unicorn stallion up to the hilt in her mouth, giving him the most sumptuous blowjob Scarlet had ever witnessed. She could see every inch of care put into it as she worked, and she could imagine the mare's tongue tracing invisible lines, caressing every inch, teasing the little bundles of nerves.

Scarlet felt Perique's hoof swat her own away from her nethers. "Bad girl," Perique growled into her ear. "What did I just tell thee about today?"

Scarlet let out a squeak as Perique bit down on her ear, reducing her entire being to a pile of quivering smallness. "Sorrymama!"

"There thou art, little one. Now be at peace, and keep thy mind on thy work instead of pleasuring thyself to the image of a rapist."

The word broke Scarlet's concentration and cut through her arousal almost immediately. She hadn't expected Perique to say it out loud. Nopony had. Not even her. That what it was, wasn't it? Not directly, but conspiracy, conspiracy to steal another pony's body, to leave them wondering when and where they would ever be safe again, to punish them for seeking pleasure.

Something bright and iron gripped Scarlet's heart and she advanced on the happy couple just as the unicorn mare pulled away from her stallion's shaft. "Clockface," she growled at the two.

Both blinked up at her in surprise and annoyance. The stallion 'tsked'. "If you don't mind, some of us are busy here."

"It can wait. Your sub's got urgent business with me," Scarlet interrupted.

The mare raised her head and turned, and Scarlet saw recognition spread across her face. "Um, if this is about what we talked about earlier, can it wait? I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"Simple Syrup, I'm here to tell you that you're a liar and a criminal," Scarlet spat back at her. "And tomorrow morning, everyone in the Society is going to know it."

Scarlet studied the emotions that crossed Simple Syrup's face. First shock, then fear, then a hardened, biting anger. The kind of anger that could burn a pony to death from the inside if they weren't careful. That was it, then. It could only be her. "What did you just say?" the unicorn hissed.

The stallion got up slowly, and Perique stood to block him. Scarlet smiled gratefully back at her and pressed onward. "That expression's pretty scary. Is that what you looked like when you saw Floral the other night?"

Simple Syrup's expression melted into confusion, but only for a moment. She jerked her head to the side. "Let's take this to an Aftercare room."

Scarlet smirked. "Of course."

"I apologize for this," Perique said before taking up her place at Scarlet's side.

The three departed, leaving a very confused stallion alone in the park.

Further Notes from Scarlet's Case Files: A Challenge to the Reader, Continued

Don't tell me I cheated. I did mention from the start that this is real life, not a detective story. The fact that I'd be disappointed in the answer doesn't make it any less correct.

Did you follow the clues? Were there enough for you? I admit that I got here almost entirely by the scruff of my tail, but they're there for you to see.

The remainder of this document will contain the account of my confrontation with the culprit. This is your last chance. If you're reading this and you identified the wrong culprit, see if you can follow my reasoning.

Matching wits with the detective is the entire point of a good mystery, after all.

Scarlet settled into a comfy, plush reading chair. She had allowed Simple Syrup to step into the shower without protest. It wouldn't have been a very satisfying criminal interrogation if she'd had to spend the whole thing with cum dribbling down her lip, after all. She had waited long enough for this moment anyway. She could wait a little longer.

Though, Syrup did seem to be slow-rolling their confrontation.

Scarlet felt Perique's breath on her shoulder, and the batpony's muzzle nuzzled up against her cheek. She sighed and relaxed a bit. It would be okay. This was the end of the story. Nothing could go wrong from this point.

The sounds of the shower stopped and Simple Syrup emerged, drying herself with a fluffy, pink towel. Scarlet coughed. "So, are you ready to confess?"

"Um. Hardly. I just wanted to tell you off somewhere where it wouldn't make a scene," Simple Syrup replied. Her expression was as bitter and charmless as it had been in the park, and Scarlet felt grateful. It would've been hard to be mean to her if she'd stayed as innocent-looking as she had from the beginning. "How could you blame me?"

Perique stared back at her, her expression rigid. "I cannot claim I follow my little one's reasoning either."

Scarlet felt a sudden shock of pain stab through her spine, all the way to her core. No. Perique wouldn't do this. She couldn't possibly. Not after all this time. Simple Syrup relaxed, almost imperceptibly. "You agree with me, then? This is all a pile of, of manure." She wrinkled her nose as she enunciate the last word.

Scarlet tried to grasp for words, but nothing came. "You. I. This, I know it's you, and I can-"

"Prove it? I um, think not. I'm also, um, pretty sure that you just ruined my date. And you should apologize." Simple Syrup's eyes had narrowed again, and Scarlet felt her advancing forward, her presence expanding to fill the room. She was losing control. It was all going to fall apart. She should have said something, should have run it past Perique first. Now-

"Pardon, Miss Syrup, I did not mean to give you a false impression," Perique interjected. "I said I do not follow my little one's reasoning, not that I do not trust her. I do not follow simply because she has yet to lay it out for me." Perique spread her wings and folded Scarlet in them, and suddenly Simple Syrup's presence shrank away to a pinprick in the distance.

"Sorry 'bout that, mama," Scarlet muttered, twisting to peck Perique's cheek. She was rewarded with a cheeky kiss back that sent tendrils of happiness knotting through her stomach. With a grin she slipped free of Perique's protective embrace and matched Simple Syrup's stance, glaring confidently into her eyes. "Tell you what, Simple-"

"I um, prefer Syrup."

"Right, whatever. Tell you what, Simple," Scarlet continued, enjoying the annoyance writ large on the unicorn's face, "I'll explain my reasoning and you tell me why I'm wrong. If you can prove it, we'll personally apologize. I'll even voluntarily give up my Society membership so you'll never have to worry about me bothering you again. Sound fair?"

Simple sat back on her haunches with a huff. "Can we, um, just get this over with already? It's obvious it couldn't be me."

Scarlet giggled. Mother had always told her to go into law, and there was something dreadfully fun about getting to cross-examine a witness with high stakes on the line. "Right then. I'm going to start by telling you a story of a unicorn mare who fell in love, and the idiot stallion she fell for."

For the first time Scarlet saw Simple Syrup flinching away slightly. She really did have to work on her poker face, that mare.

"Our story begins in Vanhoover, some years ago." Scarlet continued. "I'm not sure how old the mare and stallion are, but I can guess she was pretty young. He was too. He was strong then, and happy, and enjoyed her company. She and that stallion were very good friends. For all I know, that mare and stallion lost their virginity together or something."

"Do you have a point?" Simple Syrup folded her forelegs and tapped a hind hoof on the ground, a feat of coordination Scarlet hadn't expected and was duly impressed by.

"Getting there. Now this stallion was a fisherpony, but the fishing trade dried up in Vanhoover's ports some time ago. I could tell you why, but that's really not the point. The point is he was out of a job, and not just any job, but one that called to him. His captain gives him some advice, and he goes down to a little landlocked town and starts a side business running salts." Scarlet grinned as she saw Syrup flinch at the word. "So you do know this stallion?"

"As if. I just don't like salts," Syrup growled. "They're nasty."

"As is tobacco," Perique muttered almost inaudibly, "and yet right now I crave my pipe."

"I bring this stallion up because he's the key to this entire mystery. I realized it when I talked to him and he told me he'd forgotten the name of the last person he played with." Scarlet grinned. "He was on a bender, sure. But the thing is, you don't get into the Clocktower Society if you're on a bender."

The color began to drain from Simple Syrup's face. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, don't be silly. We both know that the reason they serve those godawful excuses for cocktails in here is because we can't get proper booze inside," Scarlet chided her. "We're a dry location. Same thing goes for hallucinogens like salts that tend to fog judgment. If High Tide had been high as a kite that night, he never would have made it into the building. He should have still been able to remember the mare he played with."

Simple Syrup's mouth dropped open just a little bit. "What?" she asked, more softly this time.

"Aye. I had wondered about that myself," Perique added. Scarlet felt her move to her side, lending her support. "He has seemed more spotty in his memory than salts should allow, even coupled with that rotgut he drinks."

"From the beginning of this case, I knew mental fogging magic was involved," Scarlet continued. "A broken PipSub indicated somepony trying to circumvent either the prototype Archangel or the current H.A.R.M. system, which could've let anypony paying attention notice something wrong. High Tide's memory also indicated he was a target. The fact that it pertained to ponies he had played with indicated somepony he'd been with in perhaps the last week or so was to blame."

"And that proves it's me?" Scarlet heard Simple Syrup's voice crack on the last word.

"Not on its own, no," Perique admitted. "But now that I follow the reasoning slightly better... High Tide did indicate, as his memory returned, a white-collared submissive. Thou wouldst indeed fit the bill." Her fangs glinted in a crooked smile.

"You're sufficiently remote from the investigation that it would be unlikely to touch you," Scarlet added. "If you hadn't shown up of your own accord yesterday, I might have taken weeks to track you down amid a sea of candidates."

Simple Syrup's face was frozen halfway between a grimace and a nervous twitch. "This is, um. That's. Absurd," she struggled. Scarlet noticed her body shivering. "I. Um. I mean, I was there to visit Floral. I haven't even heard of this, um, High-"

"Haven't heard of the dealer supplying your close, personal friend with salts? Of course not," Scarlet cooed, drowning her out. "But putting that little absurdity aside, you mentioned knowing Floral when you were school-age, right? So foals."

Syrup's expression relaxed. "T-that's what I said!"

"Uh-huh." Scarlet felt a wave of relief wash over her. If Syrup hadn't stuck to this part of the story, things might have been shakier. "You should really have taken more time to cover up your accent then."

Syrup gave a sharp gasp.

Perique let out a short, uncomfortable laugh of her own. "I had completely missed that. In all my time speaking with yon Floral, it had never once occurred to me that she lacks the dulcet tones of a Vanhoover native. Nor, I would wager, will she corroborate any story of her living there."

"If it helps," Scarlet offered, "it was a good lie. Floral was halfway-convinced she was the culprit, and for a moment you even fooled me. But the accent was what got me. Add to that the fact that we had nopony's word but your own that you knew Floral, and it all started to make sense. All I'm stuck on is a reason you'd go visit her, but I think 'adding insult to injury' would count as a decent guess. You really shouldn't have added time to gloat."

Syrup was shrinking back now, as if she could turn into liquid and slip away through the shower drain. "I'm... I'm..."

"I never did finish my story." Scarlet smiled as sweetly as she could. "The mare from vanhoover has been very lonely for some time, and she tracked down her fillyhood sweetheart. Huzzah! They play once or twice, but it's clear he only has eyes for some... shameless hussy, let's call her. A cute little mare who does nasty things like take salts, or go off and fuck around in the Borderlands. And she's breaking this poor stallion's heart. So the mare confronts him."

"Stop. This is... this is ridiculous. You can't. There's no proof." Simple Syrup had almost completely shrunk to the floor now, and looked ready to curl into a ball in terror.

"Really? Because I beg to differ. Because this little mare decided she would take revenge. She'd make sure both the shameless hussy got her comeuppance, and her childhood friend would learn the error of his ways." Scarlet licked her lips. "So first, she scrambles memories of her friend, so he'll have a very difficult time talking about what he's been up to."

"I begin to see the shape of things," Perique broke in. "Then, she lures the new mare aside on some pretext, perhaps sharing complaints about her own childhood friend."

"She picks a night when Floral has been using salts, so she'll have a hard time realizing she's been subjected to mental fogging magic." Scarlet stepped forward, advancing. It was nearly there. She could taste it. "And she sends her deep under, into a trance where she's quite pliable."

"Breaking Floral's PipSub on-site is difficult. They tend to make noise. But 'twould be quite simple to break thine own and substitute it for hers." Perique stroked her chin with a hoof. "Though that is idle speculation."

"I'm quite certain she took one of High Tide's gags though. And made sure to tell Legionnaire Praiseworthy about it, perhaps inflating the evidence of his wrongdoing a bit in the process." Scarlet chuckled. "Given her... one-track mind, shall we say, it's quite easy to see how the investigation plays out from that point. Praiseworthy ignores everything that interferes with her conclusion, and doubles down at every opportunity."

Simple Syrup stopped retreating. She shook her head as if dislodging cobwebs. Her mouth fell open again, then closed. "...You know quite a bit," she muttered.

"Enough to know that you really shouldn't have drawn attention to yourself." Scarlet stuck out her tongue. "Honestly, I had hoped that the criminal in this case would be someone actually intelligent. You could've kept yourself completely remote, and even if your scheme were uncovered it could have taken months to actually find you. The arrogance you showed in visiting Floral was just pure audacity."

Simple Syrup bit her lip. Scarlet felt her heart swell with euphoria. This was it. "Simple Syrup, I accuse you of assault, mental battery, and conspiracy to commit sexual assault. You are the culprit!" she declared as dramatically as she could, pointing her finger at the accused mare.

It wasn't quite a parlor scene, but it was close enough.

To her surprise, Syrup simply smiled at her and clapped her hooves. "Um... neat story, you two."

That was not a good reaction. Scarlet frowned. Had she missed something? She couldn't possibly have, not after she had come this far. But so much of this was speculation. "You seem amused with it, at least," she grumbled.

"You um, had one big flaw in your reasoning though."

Scarlet felt her heart seize up. "And that is?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

She knew what her mistake was the moment a nimbus of golden light gathered around Simple Syrup's horn, in the split-second before a wave of gold washed over her and swept her mind away.

"You forgot to wear a PipSub."

It was simple, really.

When she had asked that older stallion down at the Storytellers' guild how they coped before Archangel, they had made it sound so simple. Autosuggestion. You automatically suggested things to yourself. That broke your mind out of trances.

The problem was autosuggestions need triggers, and if you don't have a friend nearby and you're under a spell yourself, you will have a hard time pushing those triggers. That was what they had said. She had been grumpy until that cute mare with the bouncy mane had suggested just making the triggers a daisy chain. Suspect mental manipulation magic? Set off the first trigger, and even deep in a trance you'll set off the rest.

Problem: triggers are, ideally, highly emotionally charged when they're used for emergency purposes. Things your mind can't really dismiss. Things that sort of cut through the rest of the fog. And happy ones didn't always do so well, because spending too long on pleasant things could reinforce a trance.

So they needed to be a shock.

So many things could be shocks. Bad memories. Awkward experiences. An unpleasant taste or smell.

For her it was the wrong feeling.

It had been with her since she was small. It was gone most of the time, now. The doctors helped fix it. But every so often she woke up and it was back, and she wasn't sure if her body was real or not, if it wasn't some kind of elaborate doll with a pony's brain inside. It was very good as an autosuggestion to counter mental spells. It took her out of herself.

The white fog of the trance woke up the wrong feeling, and it sailed through her mind, each of its myriad triggered thoughts triggering further autosuggestions, triggering recall after recall. The spell ran its course, and Scarlet opened her eyes.

Simple Syrup was on the ground, with Perique snarling over her. Good, she'd missed Perique. If she'd hit that would have been bad. One less potential witness for one thing. But also, she deserved to be where she was right now. Deserved to be...

...what was she doing again?

Scarlet blinked away the fog at the corners of her vision and her memories. A haze of details began to piece themselves back together. Aftercare room. Simple Syrup. The spell. The confrontation. Simple Syrup's spell. She was charging it again but Perique would be faster. Probably. Still better to do something. Something. Something. What was that something? There was a, a confrontation. Yes. She had figured it all out.

Scarlet began to laugh.

It wasn't a nice laugh. Nice laughs from Scarlet sent her rocking back and forth on her hooves almost noiselessly, too overcome by mirth to form sound. This was a high-pitched cackle that set manes on end and broke crystal goblets if they were too close.

Perique and Syrup were both staring at her now, transfixed. Good.

Her mind remembered how language functioned. "I. I was not. Expecting you. To be. So. Silly," she hissed, moving lose to Syrup's face. The unicorn was trembling. Was she terrified? Good, she really should be. "You are a very, very silly little unicorn, you know? All that effort, and you could have saved yourself the trouble by not bothering to try and mess with me. Or just not bothering. That's right you could have just, not done this."

The laughter came again. It was working of its own accord now.

"You could have just. I don't know. Anything. Anything else. But you raped her, didn't you? You tried to rape poor little Floral by proxy. Do you know that because you picked a night where she had already been using salts, she could have spent the rest of her life wondering if it was secretly her own fault? I bet you did. It sounds like something petty and cruel you'd do." Scarlet practically giggled. "But I don't really care about that."

Simple Syrup was struggling underneath Perique's hold. "Make, um, make her stop!' she pleaded.

Scarlet liked pleading. Pleading was such a good look on her. "Petty little Simple Syrup from Vanhoover. Has a ring to it, doesn't it? I wanted it not to be you so very much. It would have been far more exciting to have to prove a guard or legionnaire was responsible. Oh, that would have thrilled me. But you, at best, provided a few days of farce with your silly, stupid revenge plot."

She could see Simple Syrup's eyes dissolving into confused tears. Well, she was getting lectured by a crazy pony who should have been a docile, pliable little mind-slave, so of course she was frightened out of her wits. That laugh didn't hurt either. She'd have to remember how to do that when her mind didn't feel like it was sparking and on fire.

"You hurt High Tide. You hurt poor Grant. Oh, I'm sorry, you barely even know Grant, do you? He's the nice bird who found your victim and saved her. Oh and you really hurt Floral. But they will all wake up one day, and be able to put this experience behind them. For a while, at least." Scarlet brought her face down close with Simple Syrup's. "But you won't. Even if you walk out of this room a free mare, you'll live the rest of your life knowing somepony knows your secret."

More pleading eyes. What was with the pleading eyes? Floral probably had pleading eyes a moment before her mind was taken out of her control. Look where that had gotten her.

Scarlet cackled. "Oh, I can see it now. You know what I'll do? I don't even think I'll turn you over to Praiseworthy, she might not believe us even if we show her evidence of the spell you cast. But High Tide will know. And Floral. And Grant. And everypony else around here will hear the stories. You know what that'll be like? Being cut off from a place like this when you're such a lonely, miserable little pony?" She licked her lips. "I'll make your life agony."

Simple Syrup let out a wail, and then a choked sob. Perique moved away from her, allowing her to her feet.

There was a pounding at the door to the aftercare room. "Torch Legion! Our spells detected commotion inside. Open the door!"

Scarlet sighed. The voice was quite familiar. "Oh, don't worry. It's already over," she sing-songed as she let the door slide open.

Praiseworthy stood in the entrance, flanked by two other Legionnaire stallions Scarlet didn't recognize. "Ah. I thought it might be you." She glowered down at Scarlet. "Are you harassing my star witness? You realize that's obstruction of justice, correct?"

Scarlet stared back without hesitation. Somehow, after the rattling her mind had just had, Praiseworthy's eyes didn't seem so bad. "Your star witness is a liar, Praiseworthy Virtue. In the course of a simple conversation with her, she attempted to wipe our minds clean of memories in order to mislead the legion."

She looked back at Simple Syrup and let herself grin the widest grin she had ever managed in her life. "Isn't that so?"

Syrup stared back, sniffled, and dashed to Praiseworthy's side, throwing herself on her hooves. "IT's true, it's all true I um, no, I, please don't let her near me!" she howled.

One of the Legionnaires at Praiseworthy's side glared at Scarlet. "And just what have you been up to that this mare is so frightened of you?" he growled.

Ah. Right. Optics. Bad optics. Scarlet had forgotten the possibility of that. Of course, not that it would matter. She didn't see Syrup revoking that confession any time soon. She would just tell the nice gentleponies to scan their thaumic signatures for evidence of the spell Syrup cast, and that would be that. Easy enough. Of course, doing that while being arrested for intimidation might be difficult. Scarlet frowned.

Maybe she could seduce them? No, bad idea. She didn't want to sleep with Praiseworthy.

"Legionnaires Shadowed Ember, Praiseworthy Virtue, and Steel Heart. I am quite glad to see you." Scarlet had almost forgotten that Perique was still presence. She'd been so quiet since Syrup had let her spell fly.

Praiseworthy frowned. "I think you should remain still, Perique Blend. You are also a suspect in this... debacle." She practically relished the word.

"Debacle?" A slow grin spread across Perique's features. "Do you mean what just occurred? I hardly see what is unusual about an investigator on commission from the Night-Mother interviewing a suspect, and the suspect being subdued as she attempts to flee."

Scarlet's jaw dropped. Commission? Night-Mother? The Night-Mother was Princess Luna, which meant she... no, which meant Perique? Perique was commissioned to investigate? When had that happened? Was this a bluff?

No, Perique had a terrible poker face. This was no bluff.

The Legion shifted uncomfortably. The midnight-coated stallion Perique had identified as Shadowed Ember spoke up first. "We weren't informed of this commission in advance, Lieutenant Blend."

"Of course not, I apologize. In the interest of ensuring a swift and speedy end to this horrid affair, I took the time to re-activate myself today, and named noted private investigator Scarlet Letter as my outside counsel. The Night-Mother is amenable to my decisions on the subject. We have had talks." Perique gestured to Simple Syrup. "While our two investigations have diverged, it would seem that the suspect we chose has made her full confession."

Scarlet's head was swimming. The biting pain of the mind-spell's after-effects began to recede into a dull, aching throb. She had thought of this in advance. Perique was smart. Perique was perfect. Perique was wonderful.

Praiseworthy shook her head. "You two make me sick. How dare you cover for a known felon, and implicating a witness in the process?"

"I think you'll find that neither is an accurate statement. A simple thaumic scan of myself and my collaborator, as well as High Tide, should reveal spellcasting from the same unicorn applied as recently as this week. Floral as well. Should this not satisfy you, then I present to you the contentious fact that you, Legionnaire Praiseworthy, invaded the home of a private citizen specifically to intimidate her." Perique's eyes were a dim, gleaming red in the room's light.

Steel Heart snarled. Shadowed Ember's magical aura held him back from snapping at Perique. "Is that true, Praiseworthy?"

"Of course not! I never would have.'

Scarlet sighed. "So your visit to Perique's house, specifically to warn us off?"

"That..." Praiseworthy looked away. "That was in an unofficial capacity."

The two Legionnaires flanking her blanched. Steel Heart groaned. "Virtue, you did not."

Praiseworthy was shrinking back now. "It was for the sake of the investigation! I didn't want ordinary ponies getting themselves hurt. Who knew if the culprit would be dangerous to them? Besides, we already had the matter well in hoof."

"Obviously not," Perique sniffed. "I believe you three should return to your headquarters. You will no doubt find evidence of our commission, and also the time to properly listen to this mare's confession.."

Shadowed Ember stepped forward. "The Torch Legion will cooperate in this instance. However, Lieutenant Blend, next time please give us advance notice of your activities. We would prefer to work with the Dusk Guard, not to have our operation sabotage each other."

"My apologies, Legionnaire Ember."

The two saluted each other, and the three legionnaires disappeared, Simple Syrup in tow.

Scarlet smiled. 'It's over, isn't it?" she managed.

"That's right, little one." Perique stroked her and smiled. "I am... I am so glad thou'rt safe. I had thought the worst when the spell enveloped thee."

"I got better," Scarlet managed as Perique suddenly enveloped her in a crushing hug. "Ahh! Mama, ribs, ribs, riiiiiibs!" She exhaled as Perique dropped her to the floor suddenly. "Um. Thank you." She nuzzled her marefriend, drawing strength from her presence. She felt so tired, suddenly. "But how did you. Like. When. The commission?"

"The Night-Mother owes my family a great favor. I have simply called mine in. As for how I did so, thou'rt not the only one with express mail to Canterlot." Perique snuggled close against Scarlet. "I shall have to make a full report on tonight, of course, among other things. But the Night-Mother's backing shall likely be enough."

Scarlet felt suddenly unsteady on her hooves. "That's. That's good. That's really good. That's. Um." She searched for the words. "All's well that ends well. I think."

She dimly remembered the reason autosuggestion and breaking mental spells were usually rather difficult involved backlash, fatigue, and the ground swallowing you up as you swayed sideways and fell.

Author's Note

That's it, friends. Epilogue soon-ish.

Scarlet Letter will return in "Mare-ami Vice."

Epilogue

An Excerpt from the Dream Journal of Scarlet Letter:

I'm twelve again. I'm twelve again and everything feels incorrect.

I tell myself this is all just a phase. Every filly hates their body. I'm internalizing what I've read in books, right? Colts must feel awkward too. I'm normal. I'm perfectly normal. I say it over and over like a mantra, to convince myself not to speak up. If I'm normal then if I say anything, then I'm just taking attention away from ponies who really need it. So I'm normal. That's how it is.

But it never feels correct.

I look at myself in a mirror and I see little things wrong. The mane, too short, too boyish. The way my voice sounds when I say 'hello'. My face.

What's wrong with my face?

As I'm watching the mirror I'm growing older.Hair sprouts where it shouldn't be, I've got scruff around my chin, my voice is turning into a deep bleat. I'm backing away, trying to ask it to stop, but it won't. My mane's turning salt and pepper gray like my father's, I'm seeing wisps of that grayness through me. My face is still so wrong.

What is wrong with my face?

I start crying. It sounds hideous. It's wrong. Fillies don't cry like that. Dad says colts don't cry. I shouldn't cry.

But my face is so wrong.

Everything in that mirror is so wrong.

I smash it. I use my hooves, like my Dad says farmers do when they bring in their fruit harvest. I see shards of glass hovering through the air around me. Every single one reflects my face back, reflects what I am.

I scream.

Scarlet woke up screaming.

Her hooves went to her face and began touching, pushing, trying to make sure it was still there. There was no scruff around her chin, no bulge near her throat. Her mane was the same disorganized mess she had left before. Everything was going to be okay. She was still her. She was still fine.

The wrong feeling was still buzzing in her skull but it was okay. It went away now. Sometimes it just went away. And sometimes when she had these nightmares it lingered in her skull, hunched over and breathing at her.

She blinked and focused. First things: establish place. Establish time. This was a small, very white place. There were curtains. Alright, not in the Society anymore then. When most of your facility is underground, you don't tend to maintain curtains in your comfy rooms. What else? The sheets she had kicked off her bed were a soft, white linen. Celestia above, what was with this room and white?

There was a smell in the air, an alcohol smell, an iodine smell. Disinfectant. She was in a white room that had been disinfected many times over. Which meant hospital. Which, in all likelihood, meant Ponyville General.

The door to the room swung open and Nurse Redheart burst in looking as concerned as Scarlet had ever seen her. "Are you alright? I heard screaming," she panted. A first aid kit hovered in the glow of her magic. Scarlet wondered how far down the hall she had been that it had taken her so long to get here.

"I'm... fine," she answered slowly, looking down at her hooves. "Was a nightmare, that's all."

Nurse Redheart's expression of concerned melted into relief, then evaporated entirely. "I see. Be careful, then, you'll wake half the other patients. These walls aren't very well soundproofed, you know."

Scarlet pulled herself fuzzily to her hooves, sliding off the bed. The ground beneath her still felt unstable, but if she focused she found it was easy enough to walk. "How long was I out?"

"They brought you in late last night. You were shuddering in your sleep, so we gave you a calming potion and left it to run its course. It seems to have worn off." Nurse Redheart sniffed. "And you, young lady, should still be in bed. From what I hear, you broke a mental compulsion spell. I paid enough attention in my classes to know that this is the sort of thing that often caries backlash."

"Mmm." Scarlet bit her lip. It was true. When she had learned how to break compulsion magic, she'd been told as much. The best case scenario for a spell-breaking maneuver like the one she had tried was exhaustion, mental burnout, and nightmares. The worst case scenario is that the spell wasn't cancelled out after your first attempt and you spent days, weeks, months, maybe even the rest of your life fighting its influence. Perique had ended up fine anyway. She hadn't needed to take the risk.

But it had worked out.

Even if she still felt like a pony trapped in a doll when she moved her limbs. It had all worked out.

Nurse Redheart was talking again. Scarlet strained, trying to make sense of a sentence she obviously hadn't processed the first time through. "-k you, I guess, is what I'm trying to say."

"That was... what?" Scarlet blinked. "Sorry. Um. I wasn't there for a minute."

Nurse Redheart rolled her eyes, exasperation bleeding into the air around her. Scarlet shrank back from it automatically. "You need to get your hearing checked. I said that I guess I should say 'thank you'. Floral.. 'Til yesterday, she really thought it was her own fault."

Scarlet breathed a sigh of relief, then flushed red and warm. Had she just received a compliment? From Nurse Redheart? Not even a back-handed one either, a genuine thank-you. It was a good day. She smiled back as naturally as she could manage. "I... thank you too, I guess, then."

"For keeping tabs on you? It's my job. Now you should get back in bed, I want you under observation for a few more hours before anyone in this building even thinks about releasing you."

Scarlet shook her head. "Not for that." She bit her lip. That had come out wrong. "Okay, yes for that, but also thank you for um, what you said before."

"About the report? Please. That was for Floral's benefit, not yours."

"No, um, before that even. When you said I was selfish." Scarlet took a deep breath. "You... you aren't wrong. I am. And I'm sorry about that. I guess I just, I don't know how else to be."

Nurse Redheart sighed, closing her eyes. Scarlet felt agonizing seconds tick by before she replied. "I appreciate that you see how selfish you are, but saying you can't help it is a lame excuse. You have to start trying to be a better person eventually. You can't just hide behind your personality like a shield."

"I know. But I also don't know how to stop." Scarlet bit her lip. "Look...I. What I'm trying to say is I'm selfish, and I might always be selfish, and I don't think I can get rid of that part of me entirely. The best I think I'll ever be able to do is channel it in a way that helps people other than me."

Nurse Redheart was staring at her now. Scarlet felt the floor beginning to fall away again. She shouldn't have said anything. This was a bad idea. She should try to leave now. Yes, run away. Running away was a good idea.

"Next time you have a case that requires you interview a patient, don't lie or I'll get you banned from the hospital. You want a chance for an interview or to get information, you see me first. And you tell the truth. Do you understand me?"

Scarlet blinked in surprise. Was Nurse Redheart volunteering to be an informant?

"I said, do you understand?"

She nodded. Yes. She understood. This was okay. Things had turned out okay.

"Good." Nurse Redheart's exasperation softened. "Incidentally, your marefriend's in the hallway. Should I let her in?"

Scarlet smiled back. "I'd like that."

Nurse Redheart slipped out the door, and Scarlet dragged herself back onto the bed to wait.

She didn't wait long. What felt like seconds later, the door swung open and Scarlet stared into Perique's concerned eyes. "...Hey, mama. I'm fine."

Then the world was nothing but hugs, and touches, and leathery wings enveloping her. And it was alright, again.

An excerpt from personal correspondence, left in Scarlet's home care of Dragonfire Statue:

Hey, Scritches,

I'm coming down to see you in a couple of days. Things got dealt with faster than we figured on. Turns out stretching rabbit meat with rat meat is almost perfectly legal back home, so the spicy meat pie enterprise is a success. Only one customer came down with an infection but I'm pretty sure they ate at Gruntilda's first so we're good. Got three other birds working our stands right now, and I cashed out. Figure we can take a little vacation when you get back. You'd like that, right?

-G

Author's Note

Hey all.

Thanks for reading, favoriting, and commenting on this story. I didn't expect it to be a hit outside like, my significant others and friends. And they're obligated to say they like it. Getting feedback from almost total strangers made my day, as has every new follow picked up.

Also, genuinely sorry this epilogue isn't a sexy one. I tried thinking about how to make that work, but ultimately this is a smutty mystery, not pure smut. For that you'll have to pay attention to my future stuff, because if all goes well I have a collab planned with a way better author for these characters. It'll be hot I think.

I'll have a post-mortem for the story up on my blog within a day or two, so check back over there and/or follow me if that sounds like something you want to read. (UPDATE: Read it here.) In the meantime, I'm going to leave my pair of lovebirds here.

See you in Vice City.