There was a loud knock, cutting through the silence, echoing through the cavernous mansion. Fancy Pants jolted awake, his heart racing from the sudden disturbance. The creak of his front door let out a hollow echo. He stiffened, getting from his bed to his hooves, slowly.
Once hoofsteps resounded through his home, his breath caught in his throat. Fancy galloped, almost falling down the spiral staircase. He saw somepony in the dark, who’s head snapped toward him. “You can’t take anything!” He blurted. Hopefully they’d be threatened by that, alone.
“Oh! I was actually looking for you. Sorry to bust in like this, but you know how it is, don’t you?” The intruders horn illuminated, revealing the vaguely familiar face of a white unicorn with a bright pink mane. “Say, do you remember me, actually?”
Fancy blinked. “..... Yes.”
“Good! Good. I would have waited for you to answer the door, but well-“ she gestured a hoof toward a window. “It’s blizzarding outside, surely you can understand why I couldn’t exactly just stand there?”
He didn’t seem to hear her question. “What are you doing here?”
“Ah. Good question. And I have a good answer! It’s time for you to return the favor. I need financial compensation, Fancy Pants. This is a serious matter. I’m not asking for your life, I’m asking for your help.” She trotted toward him, almost floating over the floor in her grace. “I... Many ponies... Need your help. And it will cost you almost nothing.”
Fleur embraced the stallion, lifting him off the ground, before immediately dropping him, and falling into a picturesque pose. “Thank you, Fancy Pants. I’ll never ask anything of you again.” Oh how she wished that was a guarantee. But ponies were at stake, and she knew she’d need his help again.
He brushed himself off. “Well, if I may ask my dear, what’s so important that you absolutely needed to come to my home in the middle of a blizzard to ask for a bit of money?”
Her thankful demeanor dropped, and Fleur’s gaze hardened. “You may not ask, Fancy. I’m sorry. Maybe I’ll be able to tell you another day. But that day isn’t today. Won’t be for awhile. If you know what’s good for you, this financial aid is the most you can pry, do you understand?” Her voice was firm.
Fancy looked taken aback. “I.... Yes. I do. Excuse me if I’m interpreting this wrong my dear.... This seems like a departure.”
She opened his door, the crisp, frosty air of the outside immediately chilling her to the bone. “It is. I’ll see you again another day.” She turned to him with a smirk. “And this time I won’t break into your home.” She closed his door, trotting away. Now, she had a meeting with the princess.
Fleur’s upper lip curled at the ponies holding their head way too high.
The ponies around her, the shops and dreams and wishes, the dying hope in the eyes of those who just moved to Canterlot, the contempt displayed by the experienced, expecting spontaneous genius or failure, never understanding the meaning of improvement, or working hard, as far as she was concerned.
It was a mystery to her why the princesses ever left their old home, for a such a city. Manehatten in a fancy veil.
Fleur approached the princess, getting on one foreleg, bowing her head. “I’ve come with a code to decipher, and the finances to go through with the next mission your highness. Do you mind if I take a seat at the table?”
Celestia stayed still as stone. “Play the message, please. Then you can take a seat. I need to hear this.”
Fleur nodded, understanding, then pulled out the burnt recorder, its corners dripping a black oil-like substance. Its condition was poor, yet it miraculously has its insides intact. She closed her eyes tightly, tensing as she pressed the play button. “Moment of truth....”
Every pony in the room jumped with baited breath, as the recorder let out a very mechanical shriek. Fleur’s magic around it fizzled and popped in response. The shriek was cut off with the sound of a whispery wheeze. “Intense... Care... Unit.... Fancy.... The code is Intense... C-c-“ the recorder crackled, then gurgled, the black sludge spreading until it was a pile of mush.
Every pony was still, Celestia’s hoof was in her mouth. “Did anypony happen to write that down?” Fleur cut through the silence. She noted a small nod from one of the other ponies in the room. Golden Gavel. “Good.” She walked to the coffee machine, ignoring the others eyes boring into her. “So. Any suggestions?”
Celestia shook her head. “It doesn’t make any sense. Even if Fancy Pants might be involved, how is the Intense Care Unit relevant to any of this? What kind of code is this even meant to be? Is it an anagram? A Caesar Shift? An acronym?”
“That’s brilliant, your majesty!” Fleur exclaimed, making the entire room freeze at once. “An acronym. Or more accurately, what the acronym SOUNDS like. I.C.U.F. What do those letters sound like as words?” She snapped a hoof toward Perfect Pace “Even a foal can get this one!”
“As rude as you are about this, you’re not wrong. Even a foal could make a code like this. For ICU, it’s just somepony trying to say ‘I See You’. Why else would they not say the acronym? They wanted to make it look more difficult than it was.”
Fleur gave a nod. “Now, why mention Fancy? That doesn’t fit the acronym, so clearly, they were mentioning him by name. If our enemies were addressing him, then why nearly destroy their own words, and kill any pony who heard the message? Clearly, they wanted didn’t want Fancy Pants to hear this threat. Then why address him at all?”
Fleur jumped at a loud clatter, her head darting toward Golden Gavel, who had dropped his gavel. “.... Do you think it’s possible they, mayhaps.... Wanted US to hear it?” Everypony stared at him in bewilderment at the first useful thing he’d said in their meetings.
“A threat directed at Fancy Pants sent to us? Don’t be ridiculous. Clearly you’re just trying to sound smart. That doesn’t make any sense. Why warn us that he’s in danger at all?” Jet Set scoffed. “It could be ‘I see you, comma, Fancy.’ It could be FROM him.”
“If it were from him, he wouldn’t have donated anything, and he wouldn’t be stupid enough to tell us!” Fleur snipped. She hummed, pacing, then her heart leapt to her throat.
“.... They weren’t warning us.” She flatly stated.
She slammed the doors open, and ran out the doors. She yelled to Celestia. “RAIN, WE NEED RAIN, NOW!!!” She galloped down the streets of Canterlot, remembering the charred gloopy remains of the recorder as she spotted smoke from Fancy Pants former mansion.
Rain clouds followed overhead, Pegasi rushing to extinguish the flames.
They hadn’t been warning the agency, they had been gloating. They had planned on the message being too late! Fleur’s eyes welled with tears as she bucked his front door in. He hadn’t even been given a chance to be saved. They hadn’t even given him the courtesy of the possibility of survival.
And they gloated about it.
She rushed into the cavernous mansion, the heat making her coat hot and sticky, smoke assaulting her eyes, nose, and mouth, a film of wet tears constantly blurring her vision as she hurriedly searched. “Please, please, please, please....” she begged to nopony in particular. She couldn’t lose another life. Enough had died.
Finally, after what felt like forever, she found him, unconscious on his dining room floor. She shook her head, and picked him up, full of anger and venom. This pony she knew, uninvolved and oblivious to everything, was nearly dead, for reasons he probably didn’t even comprehend.
What did he even have that they wanted?
She stumbled outside, a plume or smoke following her, their white coats stained in ash and smoke. She slid Fancy Pants onto the ground, and listened closely. Right then, he coughed loudly and disgustingly, right into her ear. Fleur reeled for a second, before shaking him violently.
“Good! Yes! You’re alive, thank Celestia!” She looked up at the rainclouds. “Literally, thank Celestia. Aside from needing to go to the hospital, how do you feel?”
His violent wheezing and sputtering calmed into rugged, dry breathing. “.... My home is gone.”
Author's Note
Yay, 2 AM fanfic! I’ve been sitting on this idea for awhile.
