By the end of the day, Trixie had that bit purse. It was a little joy to have a bag designed for the task. It was made of soft and colorful fabric and had little compartments for each denomination of bit to make keeping them organized easy and pulling one out a breeze.

She also learned that all ponies had pockets, including herself. She had started to put the purse away in her cape, but that made her cape sag with obvious weight. The shopkeep took one look at it and she scowled. "No no no! That is just not the way to enjoy that."

The shopkeep marched up to the startled Trixie and pulled the bit purse free before stuffing it into some new place. Trixie shivered at the new sensation. She could feel the bit purse... somehow inside herself, or next to herself? It was hard to peg exactly, but it was gone from sight. Its weight could still be felt, but it seemed lessened. "You didn't get a cape just to have it drag on the ground," assured the shopkeeping mare with a smile.

Trixie reached with her magic, pulling the bag free of that strange space with a giddy little shiver. That felt so strange, but not unpleasant. "Trixie sees..." She tucked it back away carefully, getting a feel for it.

The shopkeep hiked a brow. "Did your parents not teach you how to put things away? Like, that's crazy." She laughed a little. "Never had to teach a pony that before, that's pretty trippy. Enjoy!"

Trixie fought off the blush that threatened her, barely restraining it, she hoped. "She has seen this before, just forgot a moment. How silly of me." She laughed awkwardly as she turned for the door. "Thank you for the purse."

"Totally not a problem," assured the shopkeep, waving Trixie away as she sat on her haunches. "Enjoy!"

Trixie returned home. It had been a long day, but a good one. She crashed onto her bed, still just as soft as the first day she found it and the rest of her fantastically female room. She had only love for it at that moment. As she sank into its embrace, she pulled up the blanket and closed her eyes, ready to pass out right away.

The rest of her vacation passed by speedily. She ate interesting pony variants of human foods, though some of them were unchanged. A plate of spaghetti was only missing meat, but had other delectables and a thick tomato sauce that was quite familiar.

She saw the statue, rearing up so tall, gazing out across the waters with purpose. Trixie did not understand what that purpose was, but she felt something watching it and gazing up at that serene face. She understood why ponies would come to see it. Perhaps she'd look up its history at some point... But that is not what she did that day.

She got a ticket to a show and watched ponies singing merrily, bouncing around the stage in time to dramatic cues. Even the sadder songs were sung with the bottomless energy that ponies had for singing. The power of music could not be denied in the species, and Trixie watched with wonder as they surrendered themselves entirely to the flow of it.

One morning she rose, eager to continue her exploration of the city when she heard a muted thump against her apartment door. She trotted over to it and pulled the door open with her magic. There was no pony there, just a letter taped to the door.

You're up. Go find Don on the casino floor.

Trixie's eyes swept over the short missive before she pulled the note free from her door and crumpled it. With a throwing motion of a hoof, her magic carried it over to the trash and dropped it in. "Score!" she said with a smile before it faded away.

Was her vacation already over? She wondered what the don had in mind for her. There was only one way to find out. She stepped out of her apartment, cleaned and dressed. She rode the elevator to the open floor, stepping out into the sounds of the casino that Don owned. Her eyes flickered from pony to pony, searching for her target.

There he was, barely visible behind the craps table. Trixie hurried over towards the rattle of dice. She heard the electronic bonanza of a slot machine rewarding someone for pulling its lever. Wild cheering and the clatter of bits accompanied the event.

"Tricks," called out a male voice, but it wasn't Don. One of his many thugs was looking at her with a grin. "Don's looking for you. You'll be doing a team job this time, looking forward to working wit' ya."

Trixie stopped her advance to look over the heavy-set pony. He had a scarf over the top of his head, holding his ears back. His tail was cropped short, the fur only going out a few inches from his bottom. She couldn't see his cutie mark, obscured by his pants. That was a shame, they were such a shorthand for knowing what a pony was about. Not that she could complain, really, her own hidden away. "That's Trixie, Great and Powerful, and do you know what we're doing?"

The pony nodded at Trixie. "Rags," he replied, gesturing at himself. "Nice to meetcha. Heard about your first gig, top work. Even laid the blame on somepony else." He snickered softly. "They'll never find you, or even know ya should be found."

Trixie cringed faintly. "What?"

"You don't know?" He hiked a brow at her. "They got a pony dead to Tartarus pegged for being the one who did done it. Poor bastard." Rags pointed to Don. "You should go see the boss, get the briefin' an' all that. We'll talk more."

Trixie nodded a little stiffly. "She will do that. See you later." She turned away from Rags and trotted over to where Don was speaking with his lady friend.

Don waved at Trixie as she approached. "There she is. Ready to earn us all a nice collection of bits?"

The mare leaned against Don possessively, peering at Trixie. "You did good, last time. Let's hope it wasn't beginner's luck."

Don nudged his mare lightly. "Don't jinx her. Now where was I? Oh yeah, you're not working alone this time. We got another family thinkin' they can muscle in on our turf. Ain't having it. You're part of the team that sends them running and relieves them of some bits along the way."

Trixie felt her jaw tensing. A turf war? That was a far cry from her careful heist. "What is it... you want me to do?"

"Work in a team, to start." He rolled a hoof with a mildly bored expression. "I saw you talkin' wit' Rags before, good, he's one of 'em. Now, don't forget, we ain't in this to rough ponies up. Let the other gangs resort to that kinda nonsense. We're here for the bits. Take theirs. They got plenty enough if they think they can come for ours. You--" He thrust that hoof at Trixie. "--make them regret they even looked at this part of the city."

His marefriend smiled at Trixie in a calculating way. "Think of them as your boss for a little while. They'll need your 'special touch'."

Don nodded at her quickly. "Exactly that! Couldn't have said it better, toots."

That reminded Trixie, her ears swiveling towards the marefriend. "Excuse me, but Trixie doesn't think she ever got your name?"

The mare perked up. "I never gave it. I'm Gold Digger." She tapped her snout lightly. "I can smell the stuff. Did you enjoy your little vacation? You smell like you have less bits now than before."

Trixie tried to figure out why that statement feel as vulnerable as it did. Wouldn't any pony be able to guess that she spent some funds during her time off? She tried to shake off that unease. "Nice to meet you, Gold." She offered a hoof towards Gold Digger.

Gold met it with a light tap. "Charmed. Now go get their bits."

Don grinned wide as he laughed. "Yeah, and any gems, bills, or whatever else they got." He pointed to where Rags stood propped up against a table. "He can give more details."

Her hat tipped itself under her magic. "Trixie is on the case." She turned away from them and trotted away purposefully. She wove back around the craps player just as a mare swore colorfully at her sour luck.

"Rags?" she called to him. "Don said you'd have the details. We're up against another crime family?"

Rags waved it off. "Calling these goons a family is being mighty generous. What they is are thugs, lucky ones. They're the violent sort too." He pushed off the table, standing properly. "Come wit' me." He began to lead the way through the casino at an easy pace. The rag kept his ear fairly pinned, so they didn't swivel and move like normal ponies did, making him feel somehow muted in expression. "They already hurt some ponies."

He turned to look Trixie in the eyes. "People on our good side. Hay, one of them we just finished propping up. Lost their job and everythin', we bailed them out, then here comes these jerks, stormin' in like they own the place or somethin'. Poor stallion's leg's broke."

Trixie paled, imagining the violence. "How'd it happen?"

Rags pressed the elevator call button almost angrily. "We got the guy set up with a warehouse all of his own. He watched some of our goods, and anyone else's that paid him. Not a bad job, he liked it, and he was makin' his own bits again. Happy ending, right?" He leaned up against the wall of the elevator shaft, keeping an eye on the closed door. "Then they came in, busted up half the stuff they didn't take. Mighta been a message direct fer us. Whatever the case, we're takin' the cash back, wit' interest, if ya catch my meaning there."

Trixie nodded stiffly. "Did... the pony try to stop them?"

"Oh yeah. He lives in that warehouse." He snorted powerfully. "Came rushing out when the noise started, told 'em to buzz off, and got mangled for it." When the elevator chimed, he pushed up and circled around to get inside. "Now, look, yer new and all, so let me fill you in." He held out a hoof until Trixie was inside, then pressed the ground floor button with the edge of a hoof. "We're not just a family, we're a neighborhood. We care for the ponies that live around here. Hearing one got robbed and hurt like that? We ain't standing for it."

Trixie put a hoof behind her head, rubbing aimlessly. "Well, no, that's just... It's awful. Is the pony alright? I mean... besides the broken leg."

Rags smiled a little. "We got him up in the best hospital around here. He's alright, you know, physically. We got to show him we can protect his interests and get him back to work without fear." As the elevator slid downwards, his eyes went up to the arrow that showed the progress. "We got a little field outpost, ya know? I'll introduce you to the other guys, then we'll get to busting these jerks."

Trixie's ears went up. "Oh, I never asked. Are all of Don's 'guys', you know, guys? Am I the only mare on his... roster?"

Rags waved it away. "Nah. There's one other mare on this job right now, 'nfact. I mean, sure, Don has more stallions than mares for these jobs, but that's just 'cause we're bigger, and we're too proud to cry when things get tough." He stepped forward just a moment before the door slid open, passing through it just in time for it to be wide enough to permit his form through. "Don't you worry none. You're a magic pony, we get that. You won't be crossing hooves wit' nopony."

Author's Note

Back to work, Trixie! Inter-crime crime? Who's the bad guy? Is this a typo?

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