Long and Bell stood side by side. Long had been confused that they allowed them to remain close together while working. "Aren't they afraid of gangs and things?"

Bell shrugged softly. "Couldn't say. You know how to use this thing?" She pointed with a wing as the great machine whose belt they were stationed beside. "'Cause it's time to start work."

With a great whistle, the belt lurched forward. A soft thump announced the arrival of the first project. It was a perfectly rectangular thing, all white and mysterious as it descended at the other end of the line. As it reached the first prisoner, they grabbed a bottle in their mouth and began spraying it with some brightly colored blue stuff.

The next pony took a bottle with their wing and added to the pattern with pinks.

"Look ahead," whispered Bell urgently.

Long's eyes snapped ahead and saw a dangling piece of paper across from her. It showed a specific pattern and a long streak of color at the bottom told her what color it was to be in. She looked around in a moment of panic before finding a row of the color bottles. She willed the correct one into the air just in time for the rectangle to reach her.

It was no mysterious object. It was a cake, she realized. It was a cake and she had to decorate it. They were using their prison labor to decorate cakes. It was such a pony answer to a problem that she felt stunned. Her old human sensibilities just refused to reconcile the difference and she laughed. She laughed without control and the cake slid right on past her, undecorated.

A hoof came down on her shoulder, her laughter dying instantly. "What's so funny?" barked the jail master, giving her a bit of a shove, enough to make her stagger. "You missed it. That's your only freebie. Get the next one."

"Y-Yes, sir." Trixie's ears sagged with defeat as she looked up to see the next pattern and color. She grabbed for the bottle and turned it partially into position. "Ready..." When the next one arrived, this one round and two-layered, she got right to work, painting it as the hanging paper specified. "Ta da!"

Part of her wanted to just magic the problem away, but the floating bit of magic around her horn that was not her color forbade anything more advanced than lifting and basic telekinesis. She would not magically paint the cakes, nor would she teleport out of jail, as lovely an idea as that was.

"Make sure she keeps going," warned the jail warden toward Bell. "I know you two are friends. If she slacks, you pay too."

Bell sagged with defeat. "Ugh, sure thing, Boss. You heard the stallion, keep it up!"

A new bell sounded before the belt shuddered. A massive five layer cake thumped down onto it and the prisoners scrambled, many having to get onto provided little step ladders to do their part of the cake as it slid past them. There they were, grizzled prisoners, many with interesting scars and the men, er, stallions, all sporting beards of various ill-repute, consigned to paint pretty pictures on cakes.

Bell had an obvious advantage, flapping up into position to do her part without any other assistance required. She had to carry the bottle in her mouth, but had her part done in short order. When the cake slid towards Long, she swooped in and grabbed the startled-looking unicorn, lifting her up so she could see her portion.

"On it!" She grabbed the color with her magic and got to quickly adding her piece of the overall work. "I never imagined this would be what I'd be doing..."

"Yeah, crazy huh?" Bell set Long down gently and returned to her station.

With the flow of work down, they set to it without further issues. They finished their shift with colorful little streaks as battle wounds, tired but victorious with many cakes ready to go out to ponies who hadn't committed various crimes against the natural order of ponykind.

Bell nudged Long with a wingtip. "C'mon, let's--"

"--Get you two dressed," cut in a female prison guard, a brow already arched. "You know the drill. Nice to see you again, Tailslide."

Bell's ears fell with a weary sigh. "Yes'm."

The guard looked to Long appraisingly from behind her sharp black glasses. "And you're a new face, but not unknown. Thought you could rob a bank? Ambitious." She grabbed a nightstick but only used it to point the way. "C'mon." She led the way at an easy walk, not seeming very afraid of the new convicts behind her. "We run a tight ship her, but a good one. You follow the rules, we won't have a problem."

A thousand movies about jails played through Long's mind. The fact that many were lost to the haze of her memory only made it worse as she patched the holes with horrors. "I... yes... ma'am?" She smiled nervously. "I've... never been in jail before."

The guard looked over her shoulder at Long, brow visible over her glasses. "That so? Let's make this your last time." She turned back ahead. "Not often we have to throw an inmate to the magicians before she's put in her cell..." She raised a hoof as she walked.

Long colored at that, wondering what she looked like when she first arrived. "It wasn't too... hard to fix, I hope?"

"Thank you for your concern," she said with sarcasm dripping, her tail giving a good flick. "They didn't complain more than usual, but that doesn't say much." She pointed through a doorway. "Get them suited up," she barked through the door.

"Got it," came a male reply. Inside the room were racks on racks of orange clothing and a smiling stallion with glasses and a horn. "Don't you girls worry. I'll have you both in fashion in no time at all."

"Hey Dress Code," sighed out Bell with a little smirk.

"Little Bell! Welcome back! What'd you do this time?" He waved them both inside as the other prison mare took her leave. "I remember your size... let's see." He turned, horn glowing as he plucked a suit off the many racks and floated it over to her. "Go on, try it on."

Bell took it on an agile wing and started towards a fitting room. "Nice to see you too. Anything change since last time?"

"The newest thing is right in front of me." He was looking at Long, appraising her intensely through his thick glasses. "You don't belong here."

Long blinked with surprise. "I was just brought here?" She pointed in the direction the prisonmare had gone.

"No, I mean, your eyes." He reached for her, placing a hoof on either side of her face without so much as asking. "You don't belong here."

Long drew back away from the touches. "I did... I did the crime." She sagged with renewed defeat. "I belong here..."

He smiled suddenly. "Maybe now, but not again." He put a hoof on her chest. "Promise me never again."

Bell poked her snout free of the dressing room. "Are you harassing her?"

He waved a hoof at Bell. "I'm just telling her to not come back in here. She deserves better, I can see it! I have an eye for these things."

Long cleared her throat, raising a hoof to brush his away and get it in front of her mouth all at once. "I'll... try not to... I... owed a pony."

Dress Code shook his head. "Well it's gone now. Unless whoever that pony is walks in and gets you out, you've paid your part, I say." He flashed a sudden smile. "Now, what kind of dress should I get this darling little magic mare in front of me, mmm." He snatched a dress that looked like all the other, a bright orange overall, and floated it over to Long. "Try it on!"

Long accepted the clothing in her own magic, feeling numb. Was her contract broken? How would she know? She thought of the idea of simply walking away from the don. It... didn't seem as alien an idea as it had before. She had to talk to him. She felt certain she had to tell him. She frowned at the idea. Talking to him was a terrible idea, even without the magical bond that had been placed on her. Even if she were a regular pony, just walking up to a Don and telling him off seemed like an awful idea...

She would just not go back. She could write him a letter, her resignation. The tension inside of her seemed to break. A letter, yes, that would be good enough. She would tell him clearly, but not in person.

"Breathe," softly spoke Dress Code, a soft smile on his face. "You look like you're wrestling a demon, on the inside. I've seen that before."

Long blinked, focusing back on the world around her. "That isn't... Oh." She saw Bell had emerged and moved to take her place in the dressing room. "I should get changed." She closed the door and got to dressing herself in the orange symbol of her crimes.

Bell glanced after Long before looking to Dress pointedly. "Stop bothering her. She's in a tough spot."

He smiled gently. "I'm not a threat to her, but if you can protect her, good." He lifted his shoulders. "You'll be better with her. Maybe you'll stop coming here."

Bell blinked softly. "What? Look... I don't have a lot of other ways."

He pointed to the changing room. "There's one. Try it?"

"I don't swing that way!" defended Bell, turning red across her face, her wings spread wide in her emotional flare.

Dress Code rolled his eyes. "I don't mean it that way. You don't have to keep coming here." He stood up and approached the stall. "Does it fit?"

The door opened, glowing dimly with Long's restrained magic. "It's not... Great and Powerful, but it fits." She looked back over herself, her pelt largely concealed by the flowing orange. Her cutie mark was stenciled on the rump, she noted. "How did you know what my mark would be in time to have it there?"

"That's why they pay me," he sang out with a happy smile. "Now, take care of it please, but if it gets a hole, you come right back here and I'll patch it up in no time, alright?"

Long nodded at him. "Thanks..." She wasn't entirely sure how thankful she was. She looked to Bell with a smile that was more genuine. "Let's go find out how long I'm here."

"Yeah, that sounds good." She turned to lead the way. "We're off until dinner anyway. If we're going there, may as well find out my time."

Long strode alongside Bell, an ear quirked at her as her eyes darted to every pony that came near them. While she knew Bell, all the others were potential dangers. They looked dangerous in her eyes, as unfair as that guess might have been. She shied away from them, cringing when they came too close. "Um, I mean, don't you want to know how long you're stuck here?"

"Does knowing get you out faster?" she countered with a little snort. "I never had something I had to rush to before..."

"You do now?"

Suddenly a wing folded over Long, drawing her closer. "If we get out around the same time, wanna run away together, you know, away from all this? No more crime for either of us. Don can run his own empire?"

Long was stunned, walking silently as she tried to parse her new options and the proposal being put toward her.

"Nevermind," suddenly Bell aborted, drawing her wing back against herself tightly. "It was a stupid idea..." She huffed as she accelerated. "This ain't no foal's book with no happy ending."

Author's Note

Welcome to jail! We have fun here. Or else.

Pony jail is not like human jail in several broad and kinda pivotal ways.

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