Secrets

Chapters

Blast from the Past
Going Underground
Hunted
Occupational Hazards
Crazy Train
We Scream for Ice Cream
Sailing Away
La Maison de Fleur
Vampony Attack!
A Long Time Coming
Ponies Can't Live on Bread Alone
Desperate Times
Jailbreak
Not-so-silent Night
Caught Sleeping
Everypony Loves Fire
Gear Up
Dangerous Warehouses
Remember Your Training
Girlfriends and Old Friends
Mid-Credits Stinger
Post-Credits Stinger

Blast from the Past

Bon Bon hummed quietly to herself as she slid the pan of chocolate off the stovetop. Stirring gently and making sure to scrape the bottom as she did, she slowly poured the chocolate into the molds. With practiced motions and precision, she didn't spill a drop as she moved from one mold to the next.

When she’d finished, she gently placed the pan back on the warming pad and reached for the rapidly-cooling chocolate. They’d solidified just enough that she could pop them out of the molds and combine the two halves, and with a little fresh chocolate for some glue, she pressed the two halves together. She continued this process until she had completed the entire black chess army. She took a step back to compare it to the set of white pieces she'd completed earlier, and she couldn’t help but admire her work.

“Perfect,” she whispered with a proud little nod.

On the square cake she had obtained earlier from Sugarcube Corner, she placed the pieces in their correct places on the chessboard that had been frosted on top. She twisted it so the white corner was on the right, set the queen on her color; and soon, the setup was complete. She nodded, satisfied, and then reached for a pastry bag. She filled it with red icing, and with the pair of kitchen shears she always kept nearby, snipped off a corner. With deft, practiced movements, she wrote ‘Congratulations on the win!’ in her beautiful, curly writing, and added a heart for emphasis.

She couldn’t help but smirk. It had taken them approximately ten years, but the Ponyville Chess Club had finally managed to have a member win a tournament. Sure, it had been Twist who had won the deciding match, and Bon Bon had been very certain that it had been the result of an accident or two on both sides (‘blunder’ had been the term whispered); but win they had, and so celebrate they would.

And Bon Bon did like a good celebration.

The doorbell jingled as the door opened. Bon Bon nodded once more in satisfaction with her work before turning back to the unfamiliar stallion. “Good afternoon!” she greeted him. “Can I help you?”

His eyes brightened as he saw her. “Yes, you can. I'm looking for a mare named Sweetie Drops.”

Bon Bon’s eyes may have widened a tiny bit; but she remained perfectly calm. She kept a straight face as the lie easily slid off her lips. “Sweetie Drops, hmm?” She tapped her chin. “Never heard of her. Closest thing I've got are gumdrops and maybe semi-sweet chocolate chips, if you're interested?”

He smirked and neared the counter. “For some reason I doubt that.”

Bon Bon shifted her weight slightly. Her eyes flicked rapidly around her familiar kitchen, checking out the window to see if he’d come alone, picking out any possible weapons she could use, all while making sure to not look away for too long and making sure to blink freely. “This is a candy shop. Of course I have gumdrops,” she said disarmingly. “All flavors. Did you have a specific one in mind? The sour apple is particularly good, but I'm also partial to the lemon.”

He paused and raised an eyebrow.

“Ohhh,” Bon Bon said innocently. “That's what you meant. My bad! Well, I’m sure I've never heard that name before. Did you try asking for her at town hall?”

He shifted his weight, too, and he retrieved something from his saddlebag. Bon Bon's eyes widened as she thought she recognized it. She hadn’t seen one of those in-

And then the bell rang again. Lyra pranced in with a wide smile on her face, and when she saw the unfamiliar stallion, she stopped and maintained a respectful distance, clearly waiting for him to purchase his items and leave. The way she was smiling and dancing in place, though, made it clear that she wasn't going to wait long. Was that nervousness or excitement on her face?

Bon Bon's heart rate spiked. The addition of a third party in this standoff would skew things in his favor and out of hers… and definitely out of Lyra's.

Her premonition came true; he dropped the feather and drew a knife. He grabbed Lyra around the neck and held the knife against her throat. “Alright, Sweetie Drops,” he spat. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

Bon Bon bared her teeth. She slid a hoof over, reaching for something hidden out of view.

Lyra froze. Her breath caught in her throat. This was not how she’d imagined this going at all!

He looked up, realizing for the first time that she was a unicorn. Unicorns had both an advantage and disadvantage with their horns; while they could be used as dangerous weapons, they were a good target for compliance. He reached up to hit it…

But there was a squelching sound, and suddenly he froze. His eyes widened and his pupils shrank to pinpricks, and he brought a hoof to his chest as if he had trouble breathing; but no breath came. His mouth moved wordlessly. Then, with a sickening thud, he fell to the ground.

Behind him stood Bon Bon, her body still halfway across the counter she’d just lunged across, breathing hard and through gritted teeth.

And in her hoof, she held a long, bloody pair of kitchen shears.

Bon Bon dropped the shears as quickly as if they had burned her. Her breath came in more raggedly, and she glanced up at Lyra.

Lyra stared, dumbstruck and horrified. Bon Bon gave her a shaky smile, but it didn't help; her eyes flicked back and forth between Bon Bon and the stallion's body.

“Bon Bon…” Lyra finally breathed.

“Yes, Lyra?”

“You just stabbed a pony in the back, Bon Bon.”

Bon Bon glanced down at the shears on the ground, at the splatters of blood around them, and then back up at Lyra. “Yes, Lyra. Yes, I did.”

“Bon Bon, that kills ponies,” Lyra whispered.

“It does.” Bon Bon cracked a wry smile. “Noiselessly, I might add. A pony literally can’t scream when you puncture their diaphragm. I'm a little surprised I managed to get it first try with scissors, actually,” she admitted sheepishly.

“How do you even know how to do that?”

“It was part of my secret agent training,” Bon Bon explained. “When you’re a monster hunter, sometimes you’re hunting monsters to protect ponies, and sometimes you’re hunting ponies to protect the monsters.”

“Wait. You were really a secret agent?”

Bon Bon nodded.

“I thought you were joking about that!” Lyra squeaked.

“No! It was my secret identity! Emphasis on secret! It's not like I'm going to walk up one morning and say, 'hey, good morning, Lyra, my best friend, I made you pancakes, by the way, I wasn't joking about the whole Sweetie Drops, Agent of SEMHA thing'!”

“I didn't think you'd actually kill somepony!”

“He was trying to kill me!” Bon Bon defended herself. She pointed at the feather he'd dropped. “That's a chimera feather! If you dip it in goat’s blood and stick somepony with it, it's as good as a death sentence. There's no known cure. You wither from the inside out and you're dead within the week.”

Lyra looked down at the feather and shuffled backwards away from it, now fearful of something she would have otherwise ignored. “How do you know that?” she breathed.

Bon Bon wrapped her hooves in thick oven mitts and tossed the offending item in her smallest oven, then turned the heat on as high as it would go. “Because I’ve seen it happen,” she answered, not looking at Lyra. “And believe you me, it’s not pretty.” As it heated, she turned around and headed upstairs.

“Where are you going?” Lyra asked.

“I’m going to grab my stuff, then to Aidunno.”

“You don't know?”

“Aidunno,” Bon Bon repeated a bit more slowly. “It's like our headquarters. Or, it used to be. One of them, anyway. I don't know if anypony will be there, or even if it still exists; but it's safe, and it’s the only place I can think of that you'd be able to get into too without special training. Unless you're secretly some kind of cragodile hunter?”

Her joke fell flat. “I'm coming too?” Lyra whimpered.

“If he doesn't report back to whomever sent him, they'll send more,” Bon Bon said firmly, meeting Lyra's eyes for the first time. “You'll be safest with me.”

“O- ok.” Lyra glanced down at the body, and realized that she had a point… as well as a problem. “So, what should we…?”

“Oh, yeah. There's room in one of the freezers. Let me just grab a bag.”

“You're just going to leave him in the freezer?” Lyra squeaked.

“Well, I don’t have time to bury him, I'm not going to take him with me, and if I leave him out, he’s gonna start to stink!” Bon Bon grinned. “And grab the vinegar, would you? You know where that is, right? I’ll get the rags.”

Lyra could only watch as Bon Bon headed off to get her supplies, and all she could do was stare.

How well did she know her bestest friend, after all?

Going Underground

Lyra looked around as Bon Bon trotted purposefully forward. When they’d boarded the train, Bon Bon had chosen a seat in the rear corner that let her see both ends of the car, and she had put on her sunglasses and had sat at attention, looking around with her ears pricked up the entire ride until the train had stopped.

Now, they were trotting through Las Pegasus, and Lyra was feeling awkward and out of place. It wasn't that she didn't like crowds; after all, she was originally from the big city of Canterlot. It was just this kind of crowd seemed so different. She was out of her element, and it definitely showed.

“Don’t look around,” Bon Bon hissed. “Head straight, eyes ahead. Ears up. You know where you're going and you've got someplace important to go. If you look confident-”

“Hey, darling!” A seedy-looking thin stallion leaned out at Lyra. “You’ve got the body of a dancer~! I'm offering you three hundred bits a night! Whadaya say, hot flanks?”

Lyra stammered and blushed; she hadn’t been talked at like that ever before, not even at school. “Well, I-”

Bon Bon pushed her way in between the two. “And if you look confident, you’ll probably avoid creeps like that,” Bon Bon finished.

“Creep?” The stallion gasped. “I am a legitimate businessman offering opportunities for underprivileged-”

Bon Bon nudged him in the ribs with her knee, as if she were checking to see if a friend had gotten a bad joke. Lyra would swear that that was all she had done.

But the stallion suddenly stopped short, choking, unable to breathe. He collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain and trying to gasp for air.

And suddenly, Bon Bon was all friendly. She looped his foreleg around her neck. “You ok? Here!” She helped him over to the sidewalk and waved over one of the bouncers. “I think he has a kidney stone or something,” she said. “Pain in the lower back, came outta nowhere! Or maybe it was something he ate, I don’t know. I'm no doctor.”

The bouncer stallion hesitated. He was not a doctor, either. Intimidation? Not a problem. Kicking ponies out? Any day of the week. Medical care? Definitely not his cutie mark. Overwhelmed at his new responsibility, he looked around and waved his partner over, hoping she knew something. She came over, but the look on her face showed she was clearly out of her depths as well. She looked around, as if hoping somepony with a medical cutie mark would appear nearby.

And while this was happening, the mare with the three candies cutie mark vanished into the crowd.

Lyra looked around. The casino was bright and loud, just like all the others they'd passed, and Bon Bon had apparently chosen it at random. She wasn't sure what made this place different. They were all very loud, very noisy, and very crowded. Young mares in slinky dresses and tight saddles carried trays of drinks to ponies playing cards. A few rows away, a mare won a jackpot at a slot machine, and her shrieks of excitement nearly drowned out the metallic clangs of her winnings dropping noisily into the tray below.

Lyra dodged a distracted stallion and darted forward to come next to Bon Bon again. “What did you do to him?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Bon Bon said innocently. “He’ll be fine. He, uh, may be peeing blood for a while, but he’ll be fine.” She paused. “Eventually,” she amended with a weak attempt at sympathy. She made her way through the crowd, walked into an empty elevator, and waited for the door to shut.

“Do you have a penthouse here or something?” Lyra asked with a nervous giggle.

“Or something,” Bon Bon answered cryptically. She held down the door close button, even though the doors were already closed. Then she reached up with her other hoof, closed her eyes as if to recall something she had long since forgotten, and began to press a few other buttons in a specific order. She grimaced as she hit the wrong button, and she had to release the door close button and try again.

Midway through her second attempt, the doors opened, and two very drunken mares tried to stumble in. Lyra squinted. They were clearly friendly with one another, something that the smell of alcohol that rolled off their bodies in waves surely enhanced.

“Hey, can you, like, push the floor fifteen button?”

“We’re meeting somepony.”

“Somepony important.”

“Somepony with a really, really big-”

“Now’s really not the time,” Bon Bon said, clearly irritated. “Wait for the next one, would you?”

The mare closest to her took this as an invitation. She leaned in close to her. “Are you sure?” she asked, violating all of her personal space. “Because you’re kinda hot, too.”

“Really?” Bon Bon asked, blinking sultrily.

“Yeah, really. We could totally bring you up. If you wanted to.”

“I bet he'd be just fine with that.”

“Yeah. You wanna join us?”

And then Lyra stared in abject, horrified fascination as Bon Bon reached up and grabbed her head… and started kissing her. Really kissing her. Sloppily, messily, and with much more tongue than strictly necessary. The mare closed her eyes and returned the kiss… if you could call slobbering all over her face a kiss.

Bon Bon reached up and hit the door open button with her rear hoof, and pulled back. “Oh, hey, here’s your floor!” she said, bumping them out of the door with her hips. “Wait for me! I need to get a drink first!”

“We will!” The mares waved goodbye, swaying and leaning precariously on each other as the door shut again.

Bon Bon quickly placed her hooves back on the buttons and punched the code in as quickly as she could. The elevator began to descend, and she straightened up and spat, and roughly wiped her mouth off. “Ugh,” she grumbled, spitting distastefully. “Whoever they’re seeing is a cheap loser. Can’t even spring for the good stuff.”

Lyra, feeling very uncomfortable with what she had just seen, elected to remain silent.

The floor counter dial dropped backwards from three (the ground floor) to two, then one… then went even further backwards, disappearing from sight. Lyra froze. “Bon Bon?” she said shakily.

“It’s supposed to do that,” Bon Bon said, not really paying attention.

Finally, the elevator stopped, and the door slid open to reveal… an empty basement made of cinderblocks. Burnt scraps of paper littered the floor, broken chairs were scattered around haphazardly, and a splintered desk sat crumbled and dusty in a corner.

“They did destroy everything,” Lyra whispered, recalling that fateful conversation as she looked around at the room.

“Probably not,” Bon Bon said as she left the elevator. “They probably repurposed some of the equipment as a new agency or wrote it off as ‘destroyed and disposed of’. Maybe it ‘got lost in transit’ and there’s still some shreds of SEMHA left. I'm hoping, anyway.” She reached the far wall, then turned around to face her tail towards the wall and grinned. “Only one way to find out,” she said, raising a hind hoof and hitting a random block.

But apparently it wasn’t random; it echoed oddly, and a rope dropped from some hidden place in the ceiling. Bon Bon motioned Lyra forward so she was standing next to her, and Lyra looked up.

“Going up?” She tried to crack a joke.

“Not quite.” Bon Bon pulled the rope, and it retracted. The creaking sound of spring-assisted gears came from the other side of the wall. The bottom section retracted, revealing a passageway just tall enough for a crouching pony. Bon Bon squeezed and wriggled her way inside. She grunted as she managed to pull her flanks through.

Lyra followed, hoping the blush on her cheeks wasn’t noticeable.

Bon Bon reached for something on the wall and lifted a flashlight, but it gave a very dim glow when she turned it on. She tapped it sharply against her hoof, trying a little percussive maintenance to get it to work.

Something cracked inside it, and what little light there was went out.

She tossed it irritably down and turned back to Lyra. “Can I borrow your horn?”

Lyra cracked a smile and cast a lighting spell. The short platform in front of her-

“Eep!” Lyra jumped as the little door shut behind her, nearly trapping her tail in the process.

Bon Bon cracked a smile. “There’s a reason my tail was short when we first met,” she said comfortingly.

“I like it long,” Lyra said, her heart still racing. “Looks nice.”

“Thanks,” Bon Bon said with a smile. “Just keep watching your tail. There are pinch points on the railing.”

“Railing?” Lyra pulsed her magic harder, and her light glowed brighter. The platform fell away to reveal a long, winding, grated staircase, with a rusty, cracked metal bannister that looked as though it had seen better days.

Lyra gulped. She’d never been good with heights. She reached out and placed a hoof on Bon Bon’s flank. Bon Bon looked back and understood instantly. She gave her a comforting nod, and slowly began to walk down the stairs, her iron horseshoes clinking against the metal, and Lyra followed close behind.

The stairway was dark and their hoofsteps were echoey, and water dripped from sources unknown above their heads. They were far away from any of the noise and bustle of the casino above. Lyra held protectively onto Bon Bon, and soon they arrived at a rusted door. The faded, peeling sign read 'maintenance tunnel, authorized ponies only'.

Lyra squeezed Bon Bon's flank. “I'm guessing we're authorized?” she said, trying again to crack a joke in the damp darkness.

“I used to be,” Bon Bon answered, reaching up for her sunglasses. “Let's find out if I still am.” She twisted the frame apart, revealing that one of the earpieces was actually an oddly-shaped key. Not even looking at the keyhole, she counted a few spaces over and stuck the key into an inconspicuous gash in the door. With a ‘click’, the door slid open a couple inches, and Bon Bon slowly pushed her way inside, remaining low. “Follow me, but stay low,” she warned.

Lyra ducked her head and followed.

Their progress was halted at two steps as the barrel of a blowgun suddenly emerged from the wall. Lyra shrieked and dove behind Bon Bon’s tail.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Bon Bon held a foreleg across her face protectively. “Zulu! Alpha! Cookie! Hotel! Echo!”

“Rodeo Lima Echo,” came the reply, and the barrel retracted.

Lyra’s heart was pounding in her chest. She looked over at Bon Bon, who seemed more annoyed than anything else.
“I recognize that voice… Misty Evening!” she called as she rounded the corner.

Lyra followed, and stopped. She was in a large room, bigger than she’d expected from the old door. It appeared to be a boardroom of some kind. In the middle was a long table, but it only had a few chairs around it. It was angled and slightly off center in the room, as if somepony had tried to move it before giving up and leaving it where it was. A few electronic consoles were against the wall, some with circle screens for soundwave readings, others with little bulbs, still others with lights on scissor arms and magnifying lenses. Pictures of ponies were all along the wall, all with notes written underneath. Some pictures were crossed out, some were circled, one had a mustache drawn on in green marker, and most were faded and peeling off the wall.

She jumped as a light pink pegasus in a small wheelchair pushed herself back into sight. Lyra couldn’t suppress a gasp; her hind legs looked as though they had been mangled by a bear and hadn’t healed right, and her right wing was little more than a little stub. “Sweetie Drops,” she responded, a wide smile on her face. “Good to see you again.”

Bon Bon walked over. “How did I know you’d be here?”

Misty exhaled and gestured limply at her wheelchair. “Because there’s no ramp out of this place. I literally couldn’t leave, Sweetie Drops. I’ve been here for ten years, living off rats and what scraps I could get from the casino.”

Lyra’s jaw dropped.

There was a brief pause, and then Misty burst out in laughter. “Oh, the look on your face!” she guffawed.

Bon Bon rolled her eyes. “That wasn't funny the first time,” she grumbled. “Lyra, there’s a ramp that folds down.” She tapped a mess of twisted metal by the staircase, and Lyra could see that it would unfold into something that would vaguely resemble a docking plate for the wheelchair.

Lyra scowled.

Misty chuckled. “Oh, I’m sorry. You know I can’t resist playing it on a new pony. Gotta have some fun in a wheelchair, right?”

“She’s not just a new pony; she’s my best friend,” Bon Bon said, descending the steps, “so play nice.”

Misty threw her hooves up. “Never any fun with Sweetie Drops around,” she grumbled. “Just like it always was.” She looked over at Lyra. “Is she still by-the-book follow-the-rules uptight?”

“She’s… mellowed out a bit,” Lyra said helpfully.

“How long have you really been down here?” Bon Bon asked.

Misty Evening threw her hooves up. “And right back down to business, I see,” she said. “No, ‘hey, Misty, how’s work going in the civilian sector?’ or ‘Hey, Misty, try my new chocolates! They're delicious!’ or even ‘Hey, Misty, do your back legs still ache and can I get you some painkillers?’”

Bon Bon exhaled, but decided to humor her. “Hey, Misty, do you need painkillers?” she asked flatly.

Misty brightened and clapped her hooves together. “Yes, please!” she said. “Extract of the blue flowers of Upper Zanzebra would be best.”

“Aren’t those really illegal?” Lyra asked quietly.

“Class one restricted,” Bon Bon confirmed. “But they’re Equestria’s most effective painkillers if delivered to the body slowly by IM. It’s when you try to put it in straight through a vein that you have a problem with those little floaty side-effects.”
Misty Evening placed her hooves together and smiled.

“You’re not making me go get some before we talk,” Bon Bon said flatly.

Lyra looked back up the stairs and winced. She’d probably rather stay here than risk that climb.

The two ex-SEMHA agents stared at each other in a battle of wills… but Misty was the first to crack. “No,” she admitted, dropping her eyes. “Not with this mess going on. But if you find any, ple- he- hease!” She looked up and whimpered pitifully. “It just never stops! And I took my whole stash with me when I left here the first time and I didn't bring any with me this time!”

Bon Bon sighed. “Fine, I’ll knock some off a two-bit dealer on a corner somewhere for you. First, though, talk to me. How long have you been down here?”

“A couple of days,” Misty said. “Somepony came into my apartment and tried to smother me with a pillow. Probably didn’t expect a cripple to put up much of a fight.”

“What happened to him?” Lyra had to ask.

“Her, actually,” Misty said with a wide smile. “She died of acute steel poisoning.” She tapped her wheelchair, and something popped up from an innocuous piece of the frame. She pulled it out to reveal a long, curved dagger. At Lyra’s stunned expression, she giggled and winked.

Lyra leaned down to Bon Bon’s ear. “Bon Bon, you have very strange friends,” she whispered.

“Tell me about it,” Bon Bon whispered back. She turned back to Misty. “Who else is around?”

“I don’t know,” Misty said, returning her knife to its sheath and turning back to the dashboard of lights. Lyra noticed that all of them were off. “I mean, I’ve been monitoring the security system, but it’s pretty old and everything running on magic capacitors has run out of juice by now. But if I'm right—and I'm afraid I am—none of the other safehouses have had any activity in a long time.”

“And that’s… bad?” Lyra guessed.

“I'd say so. On our team, M and S are the last alphabetically, aside from Vanilla Swirl. We've been attacked. My best guess, somepony’s systematically hunting down the old team and crossing them off.”

Bon Bon grimaced.

Misty exhaled slowly and finished. “And it looks like you and me might be the only ones left.”

Hunted

A dead silence reigned in the little hideout.

“That’s… bad,” Lyra said.

“It’s certainly not good,” Misty agreed, with just a hint of sarcasm.

“Nilla's tough, though,” Bon Bon mused. “She would win in a fair fight.”

“Fair fight,” Misty emphasized. “She’s still limping from our last encounter with the bugbear.”

“Right,” Bon Bon muttered. “Nearly forgot about that.”

“You’re in a wheelchair,” Lyra observed.

“I’ve been in a wheelchair for years. I’ve trained with it, I’m used to being in it,” Misty said with a shrug. “Vanilla, not so much. The bugbear incident was the last thing she did before SEMHA got permanently grounded.”

“She probably went right back to her parents’ ice cream shop, put an apron on, and never looked back,” Bon Bon agreed quietly.

Lyra looked around, desperate for a change in the conversation. “How does this place still have power?”

“We leech off the casino,” Misty answered, clearly happy to change the subject. “We chose this place because casinos are loud, noisy, and use a ton of power. Nopony would even notice what we use, let alone any agents walking in. Sweetie Drops there once walked in dragging an unconscious body behind her and nopony on the floors even looked twice at her. And if anything ever happened to the casino, we have backup generators in the back.” She jerked her head back to the corner. “They've got magic reactions going on inside; slowed to a safe level, of course.”

Lyra looked over and brightened. “Ooh, I know about these!” She hesitated, lifting a forehoof and rocking backwards. “They’re pretty dangerous, though, aren’t they?”

“Only if used incorrectly,” Misty said firmly.

“Kindof like SEMHA agents,” Bon Bon added brightly. “But if we’re friends-” here, she nudged Lyra, “then they’re the best ones to have on your side.”

“As long as those boron safety cores are inside, those generators are perfectly safe,” Misty finished. “But don't put a boron safety core in Sweetie Drops. It would be very painful…” She paused, and then a little smirk flitted across her face. “-for you,” she finished.

Bon Bon wrapped a foreleg around Lyra's shoulders and pulled her in close. “Pay no attention to the loony pegasus in the metal chair,” she said, playfully brushing her mane out of her face. “I'm your bestest friend, and I won't let anypony or anything hurt you.”

Lyra returned the gesture by brushing a hoof gently across Bon Bon's barrel. “Thanks, Bon Bon,” she said sincerely. “You're the best.”

“Ugh, you're going to give me the sugar sickness,” Misty complained, wheeling herself out of the way. “How about you get all cuddly-cuddly later and we try to figure out who's behind this now?”

Bon Bon stepped forward, away from Lyra. “Right. We know they're organized, and they have access to information regular ponies don't, so they're rich, well-connected, or both. Who fits that and wants us dead?”

“Who didn't want us dead?” Misty snorted. “We stepped on a ton of tails.” She smiled wistfully. “Good times.”

Bon Bon gave her a flat look.

“Are we thinking vamponies?” Misty asked, pretending to get back on track.

“I doubt it. That'd be a lot of favors to cash in. I'm thinking crime ring.”

“The Golden Claw,” Misty suggested. “Went up to nobles. They were pretty upset when we shut down their Phoenix feather trading operation.”

“We burned their headquarters to the ground,” Bon Bon pointed out.

“Oh, yeah. One of the best fires we've ever set, I remember now. Made it look like a complete accident. Sparky even did that thing with the wires, fire marshal bought it completely. Uh… The Black Manes?”

“Minor sap dealers, no way they'd have the resources to unseal or obtain any of our records.”

“Point. Uh… The Hoof Clan?”

“Now you’re just insulting me,” Bon Bon scowled. “Two-bit mobsters at best. If the royal guard would actually get off their flanks, they’d be yesterday’s news.”

Misty tapped her hoof. “The Mangled Marks?” she suggested, clearly grasping for straws.

“Please. Those pill-pushing pansies?” Bon Bon scoffed. “On a good day they can't tell their manes from their tails.”

“I don't know any of these names,” Lyra whispered, looking back and forth between the two former agents.

Misty smiled wryly. “Oh. Right. Civvie. Uh…” She looked over and pointed at a different area. “There're some books over there you might like to read instead.”

Lyra walked over to the bookshelf, lit her horn, and pulled up the first book she found. She read the title aloud. “‘Resisting Torture’ by Mistress Clamps?”

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” Misty said. “Lots of good stuff on breathing exercises and concentration techniques when somepony’s plucking out your feathers.”

“Misty?”

“What?”

Bon Bon pointed to Lyra. Specifically, she pointed to Lyra's still-lit horn.

“Oh! Right. There’s a chapter on breaking magic restriction rings; could you read it and tell me if it works? I’ve been curious, but…” She gestured wryly at her bare forehead.

Lyra nodded shakily and opened the book. She wasn't sure what to expect, but found there to be plenty of pictures (did the mare really need to be wearing such a tight bridle to demonstrate those breathing techniques?) and the instructions were simple to follow. She nodded and focused her magic, practicing the simple starting technique. She went back over to the table to read, thankful for the distraction.

Bon Bon kept thinking aloud. “Maybe the threat is griffon?”

Misty nodded thoughtfully. “That's possible. Lots of splinter groups, do anything for anypony for enough bits. Ponies were sent after us, which could be because they're cheaper than other griffs. And it’s probably not minotaur because they usually work exclusively with goats.”

“So, griffons. They don’t usually do groups; mostly just long enough to get paid and screech for bits. We had three groups calling themselves the Talons of the West, remember that?”

“Yeah. Made it pretty interesting when we tried to track down their leader. Remember the ones at the warehouse?”

Bon Bon nodded. “You shanked him as he was walking by, remember that?”

“Oh, can’t forget,” Misty chuckled wistfully. “Tried to hide himself among the common gangsters. Silk vests are always a… dead giveaway.” She snickered at her own pun.

“That one vest cost more than I made in a year,” Bon Bon agreed. “Felt good seeing you do that, really.”

“Hey, girls?” Lyra interrupted.

“What?”

Lyra raised a hoof and pointed at one of the dashboards, where a light was flashing urgently and something was rattling quietly, something that might have at one time been an alarm. “What does that little red light mean?”

Misty cursed under her breath and slid over to the board, confirming what she’d already suspected. She pulled a small lever, and Lyra recognized the sound of the blow dart launcher emerging. “It means we’ve got company. Something or somepony breached the outer door.”

“Vanilla Swirl?” Lyra looked up hopefully.

Everypony's ears pinned as a loud creaking sound wrenched through the air, almost as if the door were being forced open, and then a colossal clanging as it dropped to the ground.

“Probably not,” Misty said, hitting a button. They could hear the spring-loaded dart fly, and a pony choked out a breath as the dart found its target.

“Not a chance,” Bon Bon muttered, eyes glancing around for something. “She couldn’t have forced the door, didn’t give the password, and she would have known to duck.”

“And that’s far too many hoofsteps for one pony,” Misty murmured, sliding over back towards the dashboard. “I’ll see what else we’ve got.”

“Stay calm,” Bon Bon said, looking at Lyra. “We've got self defense-”

“Air cartridges are dead,” Misty warned, pushing a button repeatedly that seemed to have no effect.

“Had self defense mechanisms,” Bon Bon corrected. She scowled. “Didn't you check those?”

“They are up in the ceiling!” Misty hissed, pointing upwards.

Bon Bon exhaled. “Plan F?”

“Plan F,” Misty said, drawing her dagger.

“What’s Plan F?” Lyra asked, her voice nearly a squeak.

“Hit them with sharp things until they stop moving,” Misty said brightly.

“Get back into the lounge and stay down,” Bon Bon warned Lyra. “This is going to be messy.”

“I can help,” Lyra protested weakly.

“Get. Back,” Bon Bon repeated.

Lyra nodded and headed further back. Darkness blanketed behind her as Misty turned off the lights. The front end of the hideout seemed to be all business, but back here it seemed to be more chill; the hard chairs gave way to couches, carpet, and even a pool table.

Her ears pricked up at the sound of conflict. Loud crashes and crunches and what sounded like bones breaking. She winced and scurried under the pool table. Maybe back here was just fine, after all.

The sounds of fighting continued, escalating to screams now, and Lyra buried her head in her hooves. This had not been on today’s plans! She didn’t want any part of this. How was this happening to her? All she’d wanted to do was-

Somepony came in, and Lyra held her breath.

“Lyra?” the stranger called.

“Misty?” Lyra poked her head out. “What’s happening-?”

Bon Bon tumbled in, blood splattered across her fur.

Lyra gasped and scrambled out from under the table. “Bon Bon?!”

“It's fine, it's not mine. Help me move this.” Bon Bon pointed at the pool table.

Lyra lit her horn and helped Bon Bon slide the table over as a barrier.

“There’s so many of them! What is this, a task force?” Misty asked.

“Nah, a task force has smoke grenades,” Bon Bon answered, picking up one of the cue sticks. “Misty? Why don’t we have smoke grenades?”

“We did.”

Bon Bon snapped the stick in two with her teeth and hefted the thicker side, casting a critical eye over the splintered edge. “Well, where are they?”

Misty paused. “I think the EBI requisitioned them after the shutdown.”

“The EBI doesn’t need smoke grenades!” Bon Bon hissed.

“Tell them that!”

“If my clearance still worked, I would!”

Lyra could tell that this wasn’t actual fighting; it was coping. They were scared. And that meant Lyra was scared, too. “Why aren’t they attacking?” she whispered.

“It’s not good, whatever it is,” Bon Bon said. “Hey, Lyra, levitate over part of that mirror, could you?”

Lyra looked around and spotted a broken mirror that looked like it had fallen off the wall a while ago. She lit her horn and pulled a shard over, and tilted it so they could see from their cover.

She didn’t like what she saw.

A tall stallion stood there on a table, standing above a small group of ponies decked out in black tactical uniforms. “Sweetie Drops!” he called.

“Who?” Bon Bon called back.

“Sweetie Drops,” the stallion repeated, his face curling in a bit of a snarl.

“Sorry, don't know her. She owe you money?”

“No; but she’s worth a lot to me dead or alive.”

“Oh, so you’re a bounty hunter,” Bon Bon returned.

“For the right price. And you're worth quite a lot, Sweetie Drops.”

“Aw, you sweet talker,” Bon Bon said, scuffing the edge of the broken pool cue with the edge of her hoof. “I bet you say that to all the mares.”

Bon Bon’s sarcasm prompted a little giggle from Lyra.

“I'm giving you a chance to surrender peacefully.”

Bon Bon gestured with her head, and Misty started wheeling herself backwards. She motioned for Lyra to follow before speaking again. “What, did my first response not give you an answer?”

“You're out of weapons and outnumbered. My client prefers you be alive, but you dead still gets us a pretty bit.”

Seeing that Misty and Lyra were out of the room, Bon Bon started scooting backwards as well. “Please. I could kill you with a teacup if I wanted to. Anything can be a weapon. Like this!”

She straightened up and rammed the pool cue into the pony who had jumped in a surprise attack. His own momentum and her quick motion doubled the force of the impact. She kicked him off, sliding his still wheezing body off the stick. The second pony took the blunt half upside his head, and stumbled to the ground. Bon Bon twirled the stick. “Is that all you got?”

“Get her!”

Bon Bon took a hop, skip, and a step backwards. The ponies rushed her…

And then a seafoam green bolt of magic hit the ceiling, and collapsed it. Rubble rained down, causing a major distraction.

Bon Bon took full advantage of this and whacked two more ponies with her cue stick before driving it into a third pony’s eye and running back to where the others were.

“Nice job, Lyra!” Misty cheered.

“Yeah. Nice shot. Start running!” Bon Bon shouted, running past them.

They chased after her, going deeper into the hideout, Lyra’s heart beating furiously.

Definitely not how she’d expected today to go.

Occupational Hazards

Lyra started running, trying to catch up to Bon Bon. Misty pumped her wheels, keeping up easily, showing that she had indeed trained her body even while wheelchair-bound.

They ran through the hideout, hearing the noises of the other ponies looking for them growing louder. As she ran, Lyra caught sight of a couple old, abandoned sandwiches on plates.

“Sorry about the mess. Never got the chance to clean up,” Misty said with a grin.

“Even now you’re cracking jokes,” Bon Bon grumbled as she kicked one back.

“Don’t you ever speak normally?” Misty retorted. “You're always groaning and grumbling. And complaining! Right, Lyra?”

Lyra panted, unable to answer.

Bon Bon shook her head and kept running.

A pony burst from the next hallway. Without even breaking stride, Bon Bon tackled him, and knocked him out with a quick blow to the head from her hoof before rolling up and continuing running.

The noises grew louder. Shouts started to solidify into recognizable words.

“They're flooding this place,” Misty warned.

“I know. We must have a ton of bits on our heads.” She grinned. “So maybe it’s not griffons after us, after all.”

“Whoever it is, this is the end of the line,” Misty said.

“Says you.”

Misty chuckled wryly. “Oh, shut up. I won't make it and we all know it. But there is one thing I could do.”

Bon Bon nearly stumbled. “You wouldn’t,” she gasped, her expression unsure for the first time.

“I would,” Misty insisted. “Go!”

Bon Bon hesitated.

“Go!” Misty repeated. “I’m not getting out of this alive! You and I both know I can’t make it up those stairs in time. Figure out who killed our team and make them pay! You can't do that if you're dead!”

Bon Bon nodded tightly, then turned to Lyra. “Come on,” she said, turning down another hallway.

“What?” Lyra skidded to a stop, looking at the two former agents going different ways.

“We're getting out of here.”

“But Misty-”

“We're leaving!” Bon Bon darted back, grabbed her foreleg, and dragged her away.

Lyra looked back to see Misty wheeling like a mad mare the opposite direction,

They went around through other rooms, tearing past destroyed chairs and tables and running over books and spread pages. Knowledge and history lost to time disappeared behind them. She could hear the other ponies looking for them, calling out.

“Bon Bon?”

“Stay down and keep running!”

Misty wheeled her way down the hallway. She knew her mission, and she would not fail. Lyra and Bon Bon depended on her.

Her wheelchair squeaked under the strain she was putting on it. She kept her ears pricked, knowing that this noise would inevitably give her away.

Sure enough, a mercenary poked his head in, followed by another. He gleefully reached for her, attempting to tackle her out of her chair.

In one move, she hit the brakes on her opposite side with one hoof, pulled the hidden blade out of her wheelchair with her other hoof, and eviscerated him, just barely dodging his falling body. The second pony looked back to call for backup, and she threw the blade. It embedded itself in her throat, making her drop instantly, choking on her own blood.

Thrilled at her success but now painfully aware that she was unarmed, Misty Evening continued down the hallway as quickly as she could.

Behind her, another paused. He saw the bodies and simply followed the trail.

It wasn’t long before he found her. The glint of her wheelchair shone out in the darkness. He smirked and started running after her.

Hearing him running behind her, Misty waited, and then quickly dug her right hoof into the wheel, sending her careening around a corner (and heating up her horseshoe something awful). But she was going somewhere special, and wasn't about to be stopped.

“Where are they?” the leader demanded. “She’s just one agent! The unicorn isn’t even on the list and the other is a cripple!” He cut off the nearest mercenary’s attempted explanation. “I don’t want apologies; I want results!” Determined to get those results (and the payoff) himself, he moved down the hallway, weapon raised. He raced through the underground base.

And then a flash of movement caught his eye. He turned and saw the wheelchair disappear. He smirked and gave chase. “Come back here!” he ordered.

Deciding to do the exact opposite of that, Misty pumped harder.

Misty was good at moving in her wheelchair, but she was no match for a trained hunter. He launched himself in the air and tackled her, sending wheelchair and former occupant spinning on the ground.

Down but not out, Misty army-crawled across the floor, dragging her mangled legs behind her by her elbows.

He stopped her by stomping on her tail, pinning it in place and making her cry out. Now that she was trapped, he dropped on her, forcing the air from her lungs. He smirked as he straddled her and leaned down, whispering in her ear. “Not so smart, are you? Where's Sweetie Drops?”

“Eat horseapples,” Misty Evening groaned, painfully stretching out her forelegs.

He was about to help ‘jog her memory’, but then he noticed that out of her hooves had rolled four long, thick white tubes. They looked oddly familiar.

Wait. He squinted. He did know what they were. Those were boron safety rods. Like the kind used to control magical generator reactions. They were pretty powerful; one medium-length rod could control a pretty massive generator. And while these weren't very big, she did have four of them, which meant…

A triumphant, devious smile crossed her face even as a look of horror crossed his.

He didn't even have time to scream before the chain reaction went critical.

An explosion rocked the whole casino, and especially the rusty metal staircase. Lyra shrieked and grabbed onto Bon Bon tightly as they swayed a good two meters to each side.

“Come on!” Bon Bon said, pulling Lyra along. “We’ve gotta get out of here!”

“But Misty…?”

“She’s dead,” Bon Bon said flatly. “Along with all the ponies that went down there.”

“What?” Lyra gasped.

“They went boom, Lyra!” Bon Bon shouted. “Occupational hazard of trying to kill an agent of SEMHA!”

Lyra nearly stumbled. “What do we do now?”

“Now, we keep moving. Keep running. We’re going new places.”

“Like what?”

“Places that we didn’t use as SEMHA. Somepony knew about this place, so I have to assume somepony knows everything. We can't go anywhere I know or talk with any of my contacts. We’re literally flying blind, Lyra. But I am not ending up dead, and neither are you. Come on.”

Lyra’s tail flicked nervously. She swallowed back tears as she quickly followed Bon Bon up the stairs. This was most definitely not how she’d expected today to go.

Crazy Train

Lyra nodded her thanks as the waitress slid her plate in front of her. She looked down at her food. Though she usually loved waffles, this plate looked somehow unappetizing. Her stomach was tied up in knots, and she couldn’t remember the last time she felt so stressed.

Bon Bon, in contrast, had no such reservations; she lifted her fork and tore into her eggs and toast. Crumbs flew from the corners of her mouth as she ate ravenously. A few minutes later, she looked up at Lyra and pointed with her fork, swallowing and asking, “You gonna finish that?”

Lyra shook her head and slid her plate over. Bon Bon dug her fork in and kept eating.

“How can you be hungry at a time like this?” Lyra wondered.

“Because, right now we have a nice window of opportunity,” Bon Bon said around a mouthful of waffle. “Currently, the pony (or member of some other species) who tried to kill me, probably thinks I'm dead. Since I'm not dead, I have a temporary advantage until they realize that I am not, in fact, dead. Therefore, I have time to center myself, and think about who is trying to kill me, and how they're going to strike next; before my opponent has the chance to come to grips with the fact that I am not dead, and thus create a new plan accordingly. So, eating now as a free action before they have a chance to strike again? Good idea.” She paused, and then winced as she realized that she was currently eating Lyra’s food. “Are you sure you don't want at least a quarter of the waffle?” she offered sheepishly.

Lyra took it and began eating it, the motions slow and mechanical. Strange and tasteless as it was, having a little bit of food seemed to help. If anything, it was a bit distracting.

Bon Bon tensed. That, too, was distracting. And unnerving. What did she see that Lyra didn’t?

Lyra got her answer in the shape of three ponies showing up. The first one, a stallion, leaned in. “Sweetie Drops?”

“Nope, sorry. She owe you money or something?” Bon Bon returned pleasantly.

“Funny. You’re coming with us. Don't even think about making a scene.”

“I don’t think so,” Bon Bon said smugly, with her voice still just barely over a whisper. “Not with this little tasty treat.” She slid the last pancake forward.

He raised an eyebrow. “A pancake?”

“Oh, this ain’t a pancake, sweetheart.” Bon Bon grinned. “Looks like one, but isn't. We in the business call this the Special Order. Touchy little piece of equipment. Keep it away from open flame, or-”

And then she suddenly reached up and slammed his face into the pancake. He cried out and stumbled backwards, now with butter in his eyes and syrup on his muzzle.

“And that’s for never paying foal support, you dirty cheater!” Bon Bon shouted, loud enough that everypony in the cafe turned to look. “Come on, Harpsy. We're leaving.” She abruptly stood up, grabbed Lyra’s hoof, and strode out, not looking back.

Lyra found herself dragged along, the other two ponies who had been menacing them now unsure of themselves. Most ponies were staring, now; any semblance of cover or secrecy was completely blown.

As soon as they were out the door and out of sight of the window, Bon Bon dropped her hoof. “Run,” she whispered, and took off.

Lyra needed no second invitation. She galloped along beside her, tearing down the street.

Bon Bon ran fast, but she also ran crazy. She ducked around ponies and turned sharply down different streets almost at random, backtracking, forcing Lyra to think fast to keep up.

Lyra knew that earth ponies typically had plenty of stamina, but this was ridiculous. Her throat burned and she was breathing hard; and Bon Bon didn’t even seem to be breaking a sweat.

Just when she thought she’d fall behind completely, Bon Bon pulled her over to a nearby alleyway and behind a dumpster. Lyra was panting, exhausted and feeling lightheaded; and Bon Bon was not. Bon Bon was confident, calm, in control; and so strong…

“Ok, I think we lost them,” Bon Bon murmured. “But don’t let your guard down too quickly.”

“More mercenaries?” Lyra panted.

“Nah. Those were dumb muscle. Whoever wants me dead is expanding the search. Hope you didn't mind that little hoof hold to get us out of there.”

Oh, no,” Lyra said quickly. “Didn't mind at all. But…”

“But?” Bon Bon prompted.

Lyra swallowed. “Who could be sending so many ponies after us?”

“Right now, I think it's a bunch of ponies after us,” Bon Bon admitted. “At first I thought it was just a hit, but now I think someone put a bounty out on me; and you’re probably on it now, too. Mercenaries, bounty hunters, desperate ponies in need of a bit; there’s probably a crooked Royal Guard or two in on this. We can’t trust anypony.”

“So what do we do?” Lyra asked fearfully.

“Heh. Only thing I know how to do.” Bon Bon smirked. “Adapt and survive.”

Lyra bit her lower lip. She'd been hoping for something candy-related; but survival wasn't too bad, either.

Lyra picked up her front left hoof out the small puddle of water. “Uh, Bon Bon?”

“Yes, Lyra?”

“What are we doing?”

“Waiting for the train to Westhoof,” Bon Bon answered.

“But…” Lyra dodged around a squealing little filly who was obviously focused more on chasing her friend than watching where she was going. “In the middle of a foals’ play area?”

“It's wide and flat enough that we'll see anypony who could be trying to sneak up on us. Besides, there're lots of foals, lots of parents, and lots of witnesses.” She smirked. “Worst place ever for a covert operation.”

Lyra chuckled uneasily. “I'm not quite used to this… paranoia.” That seemed the right word. And to think, this morning all she’d wanted to do was-

“It's called ‘staying alive’, Lyra; and don't you fret, it's my job to worry about that.” She checked her watch. “And now it's my job to get us to the station.” She turned and narrowed her eyes. “Stay close.”

Lyra nodded and followed Bon Bon through the water.

Thankfully, though Bon Bon’s ears were pricked the entire time, no other threats materialized; and soon they were on the train. Bon Bon assumed her previous position, back to the wall, ears pricked, eyes flicking back and forth. Her sunglasses had been lost under the casino, and though she looked relaxed, Lyra realized now just how alert and actively paying attention she actually was.

She tried to emulate Bon Bon, ears up and watching, but she realized just how poorly she was doing so when she jumped as another pony entered the car, pulling a carry-on bag with her. She sat down and didn't look at Bon Bon.

Bon Bon uncrossed her forelegs.

Another pony entered. He, too, didn't look at Bon Bon.

This scene repeated itself a few more times. Soon, there were five new ponies in the car. Lyra cracked a smile. “Popular car,” she said.

There was no response from anypony. She ducked her head.

Then Bon Bon spoke. “You know, we don't have to do this,” she said pleasantly. “Westhoof is lovely this time of year, I hear. You'd do just as well going and seeing the beaches. I would highly recommend it.”

Lyra squinted. Why would she-?

She got her answer when the nearest mare spun around and swung a golf club at Bon Bon. Bon Bon had already ducked, though, and drove a retaliatory hoof into her chest. She recoiled in pain, dropping the golf club; but before Bon Bon could do much else, the other occupants of the car swarmed her. One pony leapt off the bench in front of her to tackle her; but Bon Bon sidestepped and rolled out of the way, letting him slam against the ground. She couldn't hit him while he was down, though; she had another pony rearing up ready to slam her hooves into Bon Bon's unprotected stomach mid-roll. She lashed out with her hind hooves, nailing her attacker in the stomach instead. Rolling to her hooves, she kicked the golf club back up into her mouth and smashed it into the next nearest pony’s head.

Lyra stared, slackjawed. Bon Bon was amazing.

One pony slowly got up and decided to take a swing at Lyra, apparently for no other reason than that she was there (or maybe he was just that disoriented that he confused her seafoam fur with Bon Bon's cream fur). Lyra’s heart stopped. This was how she died! She never even got a chance to-

Thankfully, Bon Bon was there; she delivered a beautiful buck to his chin, snapping his head back and nearly flipping him completely. “Come on!” She grabbed Lyra's hoof and ran.

They tore through the train car behind them, knocking over every tray and plate and unfortunate pony in their way, leaving behind scattered choruses of “my word!” and “well, I never!”

Finally, they burst out of the rear door… and ran out of train. Lyra squealed and pressed herself back against the door.
Bon Bon peeked around her and looked through the window, then turned to Lyra. “Can you levitate yourself?”

“What?”

“Can you levitate yourself?!”

“No?” Lyra squeaked.

Bon Bon scowled. She looked back into the train once more, and then seemingly made some mental calculations. She put the golf club in her mouth. “Get up.”

“What?”

“On the roof of the car!” She ducked under Lyra's belly and lifted, making Lyra squeak in surprise before finally realizing what she wanted her to do. Her hooves scrabbled for grip against both Bon Bon’s back and the metal train car, but with the earth pony’s help, she finally managed to get herself up onto the roof. Her mane and tail blew in the wind. She grimaced as she attempted to remain steady on her hooves. She’d never been on top of a train before, and she wasn't sure she liked it. This really was an adventure.

She reached down to pull Bon Bon up, but she needn't have bothered; Bon Bon launched herself upwards, landing easily on her hooves. She spun around, taking the golf club out of her mouth and holding it at the ready.

And not a moment too soon; the door burst open and one of the ponies from inside burst out, looking wildly to the side, looking for Bon Bon.

Bon Bon reached down with the golf club and tapped him on the shoulder. He looked over just in time to take the return swing to the jaw. He stumbled and tripped, falling off the edge of the platform and hitting the ground with a sickening crunch.

Lyra flinched. Bon Bon didn’t even react, except to stay low in a defensive stance, ears pricked even as the wind blew at her mane and tail.

A second pony burst out of the doorway, and, not seeing Bon Bon, quickly spun around. Somehow, he managed to dodge her first swing, and catch the return. There was a quick tug of war, but Bon Bon also had to make sure she didn’t fall off the roof of the train car. She struggled valiantly, but it slipped from her grip.

“Ha!” he crowed, pulling it back to where it was comfortable in his hooves.

But Bon Bon had grabbed the decorative railing and swung down; and before the shout had completely left his mouth she had quite literally kicked him off the train with her rear hooves.

She pulled herself back up and gave Lyra a winning smile.

Lyra heard the pony’s pained grunts fading into the distance and didn’t know what to think anymore.

We Scream for Ice Cream

The train arrived in Westhoof on time, with two ponies on the roof of the last car and most of the passengers unaware of what had just transpired.

As the train slowed to a stop, Bon Bon jumped down from the roof and held up a hoof for Lyra to get herself down. Lyra eventually managed to get off.

As they hopped down onto the platform, a train worker approached. “May I see your tickets?” he asked, probably because he’d said it so many times that he wasn’t sure what else to say in this situation.

Lyra froze; but Bon Bon reached inside her mane and retrieved them. She held them out for inspection.

The inspector was forced to concede that the tickets were valid. Knowing something was up but unable to find anything technically wrong with this arrangement, and they certainly weren’t on the roof now, he exhaled through his teeth, gave them back, and walked off.

Lyra blinked. “I thought we were going to get arrested for sure!” she whispered.

“Better hope not,” Bon Bon murmured darkly, already moving purposefully through the station. “Like I said, there’s probably at least one crooked royal guard hunting us.”

Westhoof was not a particularly large city; it was probably similar in size to Ponyville. Like Ponyville, there were birds flying in the tallest trees, and squirrels climbing those trees paused to look. Bon Bon moved quickly but steadily, and Lyra followed along.

A little shop appeared, decorated with a beautiful white roof and larger than life sprinkles around the edge. The walls had on a pattern, making it look like an enormous waffle cone. Lyra cracked a small smile. This was cute.

Bon Bon didn’t seem to share her amusement, though. She approached slowly and pushed the door open.

It remained firmly shut.

“Shouldn’t that…?” Lyra started.

“Yep,” Bon Bon said grimly. As a business owner herself, her doors were never closed during the day. “Something’s wrong. We gotta get in there.”

Lyra looked around, as if expecting to see a key somewhere. “So how are we-?”

She got her answer when Bon Bon simply spun around and kicked the door in. Lyra gasped, but Bon Bon was already inside. Lyra took a furtive look around and quickly followed.

Something smelled off in here, but Lyra wasn’t sure what it was. Other than the strange smell, it was exactly like most shops in small towns, with the storefront on the first floor and the living area upstairs. Bon Bon headed straight there; but at the bottom stair, held up a foreleg and halted Lyra. Her eyes narrowed; but whatever she’d thought would happen, didn’t. She made a small motion that Lyra interpreted as ‘stay close and stay quiet’, and she did just that.

Nothing happened at the top of the stairs, either; but the smell seemed to get a bit more acrid. Bon Bon went first, ears pricked. Lyra followed closely.

She regretted this decision when Bon Bon pushed open the bathroom door. She inhaled sharply. “Lyra, don’t-”

But it was too late. Lyra had seen. She recoiled as if burned and slumped to the floor, burying her face in her hooves.

Bon Bon pulled the bathroom door shut and crouched next to her. She pulled her close, letting Lyra rest her head on her chest.

“She's dead,” Lyra whimpered, unable to banish the image from her mind no matter how hard she clenched her eyes. “She’s… she’s dead.”

“She is, Lyra,” Bon Bon said quietly, stroking her mane comfortingly. “But we can’t stay focused on that too long.”

“How could you say that?” Lyra sobbed.

“She was my friend!” Bon Bon snapped, steel entering her voice for the first time, shocking Lyra into stopping. “She saved my life more times than I can count, and I saved hers exactly twice. And if I couldn’t be here in time to save her, the least I can do is avenge her.”

Lyra blinked. Her heart pounded in her chest. Bon Bon seemed so… powerful.

Bon Bon stood up and looked around, apparently unaware of Lyra’s internal musings. “Now. Let’s see if the dead can help us.”

“How?” Lyra asked. “Do we look for clues, or…?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of supplies,” Bon Bon said, kneeling down to look under the bed. She pulled out a small knife, a book that could only have been a trashy romance paperback, and a dust bunny; all of which were quickly discarded. She grunted in defeat and stood up to look elsewhere.

“I thought they took all the good secret agent stuff when they shut SEMHA down?” Lyra asked.

Bon Bon slowly spun in a circle, eyes darting, looking around the room. “Yeah, they did. We who were there when SEMHA was disbanded couldn't take anything with us but our personal effects.” She shook her watch tellingly and then cracked a smile. “But Nilla was medically discharged two days before SEMHA was shuttered, so she would have brought her retirement package with her. Now, where would she hide it?”

Lyra got up. “What are we looking for?”

“Something out of place,” Bon Bon answered, rearing up and peeking inside the vent. “I’ll know it if I see it.”

The search in the bedroom proved futile, and the two mares headed back downstairs. Something smelled off down here, too; though it was definitely ‘off’ in a different way.

Bon Bon sniffed. “I know that smell,” she murmured, picking up one of the nearby dishcloths. She got it wet at the sink, and then draped it over her muzzle. “Lyra?” She pointed to the large freezer door. “Open that for me, could you? And stand back.”

Lyra stood back and lit her horn, pulling open the door to the ice cream freezer.

Vanilla Swirl must have been killed some time previously; the ice inside had long since melted. Giant tubs of ice cream had melted and then popped, leaking out their contents everywhere. Lyra recoiled, both from the sight and the smell.

Bon Bon strode right in, her makeshift mask apparently keeping most of the vile smells out. She kicked over a few tubs and looked in the very back.

Lyra, of course, watched from a very safe distance away.

Bon Bon searched for a while longer, and then found the only one that wasn’t leaking. She made a pleased grunt and popped the top off, and then reached inside.

The lack of ice cream mess might have had something to do with the fact that there wasn’t actually ice cream in that tub. Bon Bon pulled out a few manuals, a few grenades, a couple tubes, a rope with a hook on it, and a few other things Lyra didn’t recognize. Whatever they were, though, Bon Bon seemed to be very pleased with the discovery. At the bottom was a pair of saddlebags, and she pulled them out and quickly started loading them up.

And then Lyra froze as something cold tickled her throat. Bon Bon looked up and froze as well, her hooves still reaching the bottom of the tub.

“You’re faster than I was expecting,” the mare said pleasantly, as if she weren’t holding a blade to Lyra’s throat. “Not quite fast enough, though. Hooves where I can see them, please.”

Bon Bon grit her teeth, realizing they’d been caught again.

Lyra gulped. She was probably supposed to be keeping watch. “Sorry,” she whispered.

And then a devious, apologetic smile flickered across Bon Bon’s face. “Me, too.” As she stood up, she flung her hooves into the air; and as she did so, she lobbed something she had taken out of the barrel high into the air. It was oblong, and-

Wait. Why was Bon Bon crouching and covering her ears?

Lyra got her answer soon enough when the world exploded with a flash of blinding light and a colossal bang. Her ears rang, she was blinded, and she sank to the ground, covering her head.

Something grabbed Lyra’s hoof, and she screamed. At least, she thought she did; she couldn’t hear herself through the ringing in her ears. She forced open one eye and saw Bon Bon, shouting words that Lyra couldn’t hear. But her intention was perfectly clear; and once again, Lyra found herself half running, half being dragged behind her best friend.

Sailing Away

“Excuse me, darling.”

The shopkeeper looked over at the low, sultry voice. There stood an earth pony mare with a two-toned mane, eyes half-lidded, a coy smile on her face. Her tail flicked.

Lyra couldn't hear very well from how far away she was, but Bon Bon’s body language was clear; and when she came back, she was holding two pretzels when she had definitely only had the bits for one.

“You’re pretty good at that whole flirting thing,” Lyra said uncertainly.

Bon Bon grunted distractedly as she passed her friend a pretzel. “Top of my class,” she said nonchalantly. “Once I convinced a border patrol minotaur to look the other way as we moved a nest of cockatrices out of the way of a railroad just by giving him a peek at my goods.”

Lyra flushed slightly and kept her eyes on her pretzel. “Is that what they’re calling it these da-?”

“Literally,” Bon Bon growled, cutting her off. “My next option was going to be to knock him out, probably by garrote, because minotaurs have super thick skulls.”

“Gar-what?”

Bon Bon put the pretzel in her mouth. In one move, she’d grabbed onto the setting knob on her watch and pulled it out, revealing that it was actually the tip of a long, thin wire. Before Lyra could even blink, Bon Bon was behind her, that wire now wrapped tightly around her neck.

“Squeeze, and down they go,” Bon Bon said pleasantly. “If they resist, you might end up slicing a few important arteries. So that’s not a wise course of action.”

Lyra made a panicked squeak. Bon Bon chuckled lightly and retracted the wire.

“How do you know so much about pony anatomy, anyway?” Lyra had to ask.

Bon Bon shrugged and took another bite of her pretzel. “Not all monsters are bugbears and timberwolves. Sometimes you're fighting revenants, impervious to pain until you slowly—and it's gotta be slowly—pull the enchanted nail from their neck. Sometimes it's ehowolves, and you're carrying silver blades and wearing spiked shoulder pads. Those work well against the -blixes, too. Vamponies. All pony-shaped and more dangerous than their monstrous counterparts.”

Lyra couldn't speak. “You know a lot,” she finally said.

“I do,” Bon Bon agreed.

They walked a bit longer.

Bon Bon sighed as she tossed the empty napkin into a trash can. “Sometimes I think I know too much,” she admitted. “We have a saying. She who fights with monsters must take care that she herself does not become the monster.”

“You’re not a monster,” Lyra said, wrapping her foreleg around Bon Bon’s shoulders. “You’re my best friend.”

Bon Bon exhaled. “Thanks,” she said, accepting the touch. “I’m sorry you’re in this mess, though.”

“Yeah,” Lyra said quietly, looking down at her half-eaten pretzel, “me too.”

There was a lengthy pause.

“Where are we going now?” Lyra finally asked. “It’s getting kinda late.”

“I had an idea. It’s… a risk, but it’s something crazy. Someplace nopony will think to look for us, so we should be safe,” Bon Bon answered. She looked up. “We’re going to Canterlot,” she explained.

“Oh, I lived in Canterlot,” Lyra said.

“I remember,” Bon Bon said. “Let’s get moving.”

“Wait. On hoof?” Lyra looked up. It wasn’t that far away, but that was a lot of walking.

“We’ll have to. I don’t know how many more train fights I have in me, I like room to maneuver. We can’t go by hot air balloon or take a taxi, too open from pegasi.” Bon Bon pursed her lips. “Let’s go find a crowd to get lost in.”

Lyra let out a shaky sigh of relief as the lake around Canterlot came into view. Bon Bon had taken main roads with plenty of traffic, but had backtracked and ducked into shops and paused to ‘window shop’ (really, looking at the reflections of ponies walking behind them) that their trip seemed to have doubled in length. She had definitely not imagined this happening when she walked into Bon Bon’s shop early this morning. The pretzel was long since gone, and her stomach was grumbling, and even Bon Bon looked like she was flagging slightly.

But Canterlot shone brightly in the setting sun, and there was a brief moment of peace. They’d finally made it to the lake entrance.

This moment quickly evaporated as Bon Bon pulled Lyra aside. “I'm not feeling so good about this bridge,” she murmured, jerking her head towards it. “Too many guards. We'll have to find another way across.”

Lyra nodded. Now that Bon Bon said it, she realized she was right; she'd been out here before when she was a student and had not seen this many royal guards at one time.

As Bon Bon tried haggling with the nearest boatkeeper for passage (an older mare that looked like she would not be falling for her seductive act), Lyra looked over the river, not really focusing on anything in particular. How had this all gone so wrong?

"Need help going across?"

Lyra looked over to see a younger colt, lounging on the side of the docks. Seaweed strands hung in his long mane, which he lifted out of the way with his hoof to see her better. He grinned. “It's cheap.”

Lyra smiled. “We'd kinda need ‘free’ at this point,” she admitted wryly.

“That's just fine!” He sat up. “I'm bored, anyway. Need something to do. Might as well help!”

Lyra turned to go get Bon Bon, excited that their luck had turned around.

She had already seen; and had decided that the best way to thank the colt for his kind offer was to launch herself at him. He stumbled under her attack, collapsing to his knees into a protective ball.

"Not today, kelpie!" she hissed.

"Bon Bon!” Lyra gasped. “What are you doing to that colt?"

"Colt, nothing. Lyra, say hello to the common kelpie."

"A seapony?" Lyra stammered.

Bon Bon chuckled mirthlessly as she spun and held him down. "Seaponies are friendly and like rivers and oceans and singing. Kelpies like lakes and drowning ponies in them." She emphasized this with a none-too-friendly cuff on his head.

"You know I'm a kelpie?" the colt grunted as he struggled to free himself. He seemed quite strong for his size; Bon Bon had to keep rapidly readjusting her weight to stay on top, spinning on top, constantly bumping his hips with hers to knock him off balance. "Then you know what happens when I touch the water?" He torqued his body and, now laying flat, reached out for the water.

But apparently, that was exactly what Bon Bon had wanted. Now that he was elongated, she could use her larger size and weight against him; he couldn't get the traction to push off the ground with enough strength to lift them both. Her hips pinned him down and then she reached for her watch.

The strand was out and taut across his neck in the blink of an eye. "And I also know what happens when silver breaks your skin," Bon Bon returned. "There's silver strands woven in this steel cable, and I know the iron in it won't feel too good, either. Keep struggling, I dare you."

Wisely, the kelpie decided to stop. He did seem to hum angrily, though, as if he were full of bees.

“You were right about one thing, though. We do need help across. And, lucky you, you’re going to help us.”

“As if!”

“Wrong answer.” She tightened her grip.

“Alright! I'll take you across!”

Bon Bon leaned back and tightened it further. “Safely,” she insisted. “Swear on your honor.”

“On me honor!”

“Full sentences, now.”

“I swear on me honor to see you safely to the other shore!” he choked.

This was enough for her; she got up and let the wire retract back into the body of the watch. “Well, then, let's get going!” she said brightly.

The trip across was fairly uneventful. The kelpie sulked in the back of the boat, nudging the rudder with an elbow as needed. Lyra shuffled uncomfortably as the boat gently rocked on its journey, and Bon Bon just kept watch, ears pricked.

Finally, the boat ran aground against the opposite shore. Lyra turned to give the kelpie a friendly smile, but his expression didn’t change. Uncomfortably, she climbed out of the boat and landed solidly on the sandy beach. Bon Bon hesitated briefly, then followed. Her hooves hit the sand.

There was a blur of motion behind her. Lyra didn't even have time to squeak before there came a sickening crunch. She looked behind her, and saw the young kelpie, laying on the ground, dazed, surrounded by the seaweed that had been quite literally knocked out of his mane, and with a very distinct red hoofprint mark, seemingly burned onto his face.

"Iron horseshoes," Bon Bon said with a smirk as she trotted forward. "Only ever get the best."

"Was he...?"

"Yep. Promised to see us safely to land, didn't say anything about not trying to drown us again after he did. Typical young kelpie stuff. Older ones know to word it better; the good ones can make it so that they technically only have to take you halfway across. You can guess what happens then."

Lyra looked over her shoulder and almost felt sorry for him.

And then he scowled, revealing murderous, sharpened teeth; and her sympathy quickly fled.

"Come on," Bon Bon murmured, eyes flicking around. "We're not out of danger yet."

"From him?" Lyra squeaked.

"From anypony."

And with that comforting thought, they made their way up the Canterlot streets.

Back on the other side of the bank, the kelpie sat by the edge of the water, irritably rubbing his face, which was still throbbing with a dull, achy pain. Stupid iron. Stupid ponies. Stupid everything.

What made it worse was his pride wouldn't let him tell anykelpie else that a pony had outsmarted him, so all he could do was simmer angrily and pretend the wetness by his eyes was seaspray. He was a good kelpie, really! He was a mighty defender of these waters. He was!

“Hey, you.”

He looked up.

A large pony stood there, looking down her nose at him. “I saw you with them. The cream earth pony and the green unicorn. You took them across the lake.”

The little colt brightened. "Oh, yeah! I remember them. Friends of your’n?”

“Something like that.”

He jumped off the deck and started trotting towards his boat. “I can take you across the lake. I only charge half what everypony else does, even if they're closed.”

Cold steel was suddenly pressed against his neck. “It'll be free, and you’ll tell me anything and everything you overheard them say.”

The colt nodded slowly. “Every word. On me honor,” he said.

Author's Note

You can read more about Kelpies (and other monsters mentioned here, too) here.

La Maison de Fleur

The sun was setting over Canterlot when a small metal hook flew up, looped itself around the metal fire escape, and cinched itself tight. With a few subdued grunts of effort, a cream-colored earth pony pulled herself up and over the railing. After waiting a few moments, she pulled on the rope, hauling up a seafoam-green unicorn.

Once she was safely aboard, Bon Bon reached into her saddlebag, pulled out something that she stuck on the window, and then slid it open.

Lyra grimaced as she followed Bon Bon inside. “I really hope you’re good friends with this pony?” she started.

“We've crossed paths a few times, usually on good terms,” Bon Bon murmured. “She’s currently known as Fleur de Lis.”

Lyra squeaked. She knew that name! Everypony knew that name! “We broke into Fleur de Lis’s house?!”

“Yep,” Bon Bon said simply, fumbling for a light switch.

Lyra looked around. “Why would we do that?” she squeaked. “She’s a supermodel, she’s probably got all kinds of security-”

“Yes,” Bon Bon said, finding the switch. “But she’s also one of Canterlot’s-”

She found the light switch, and flicked it on. Lyra shrieked and tripped backwards, falling on her hindquarters, as she saw the pony in question standing not two paces in front of her.

“-resident vamponies,” Bon Bon finished coolly.

Now exposed, Fleur straightened up and inclined her head. “I see my fame precedes me,” she said in her gentle accent, wearing a playful but somewhat predatory smile on her lips. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“Infamy, more like,” Bon Bon corrected under her breath. She nodded tightly. “We need your help.”

“Help?” Fleur asked, arching an eyebrow. “The stories are true. You are a bold one.” A little smile perked up one side of her lips. “I’m listening.”

“We’re being chased and need a place to stay, at least for the night.”

Fleur's eyes widened dramatically. “Dear me, am I hearing this right? Is Sweetie Drops, famous agent of SEMHA, asking me for help?”

Lyra glanced over. Apparently, Bon Bon’s fame preceded her, too.

Bon Bon's eyes narrowed and she scowled at nothing in particular. “Yes,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

Fleur’s eyes widened briefly, but her expression quickly returned neutral. “This is a fascinating turn of events,” she murmured.

Lyra's eyes flicked back and forth, not liking this dynamic at all.

A little smile poked at her lips. “You'll owe me a favor,” Fleur said pleasantly.

Bon Bon nodded tightly. “I’m well aware,” she replied.

There was a brief pause.

Fleur brightened and smiled, though Lyra noticed she didn't show her teeth. “Well, then, welcome to La Maison de Fleur! If you're to be my guests tonight, I suppose it would only be right to feed you.” Fleur trotted over to the kitchen. “How does a light salad sound?”

Lyra's stomach growled at the mention of food, even if she was a bit confused. “You can eat?” she asked. “I thought… I mean…”

Fleur chuckled as she lit her horn, pulling over plates and utensils. “Vamponies do eat, you know.” She gestured with her metal fork. “Please, take a seat.” She turned back to the kitchen. “Like ponies, our bodies need nutrients and proteins other than what blood can provide. I’m especially fond of hay fries, but I can never eat them in public.” She tossed her mane and lifted her muzzle high. “My image, you know.”

“But she is lactose intolerant,” Bon Bon whispered as she clambered onto the barstool. “All vamponies are.”

Lyra grimaced, and her tail flicked uncomfortably. That did sound unpleasant. She found her eyes drawn to Fleur's hindquarters, knowing some of the effects (and remembering that awful sleepover where Lemon Hearts had forgotten her pills; nopony had slept well that night and Lemon had almost become Twilight's unwilling test subject for flatus-containing corks).

To her horror, Fleur noticed her looking. She looked back over her shoulder and posed elegantly, wearing that little smile (which did not reveal her teeth) she was known for. Lyra smiled back shakily, not wanting to anger her by either looking away or staring too closely.

Fleur posed again, tall and elegant, looking over her other shoulder coyly.

And then she changed poses once more.

Lyra blushed and quickly averted her eyes. This really was a nice bar, probably marble. And tails were not supposed to be carried that high in public!

Fleur chuckled lightly behind her as she kept chopping. Lyra looked around, admiring the kitchen. As she kept looking, she noticed that all the tools on the wall and on the counters were metal, none were wooden. She found herself remembering some of the novels she’d read and wondered how many of those ‘weaknesses’ were real.

Apparently, Fleur de Lis had been a chef in a previous life; it wasn’t long before Fleur slid a plate in front of them. It was a lovely salad, with fresh tomatoes, chopped cucumbers, and for a dressing-

“Is that garlic?” Lyra asked, her previous thought process derailing.

“Lemon garlic,” Fleur nodded.

“Miss de Lis is one of our older vamponies,” Bon Bon explained as she doused her salad in the dressing. “Garlic doesn’t really affect her anymore. It’s mostly the new ones just getting used to their new, ultra-sensitive sense of smell that it works on.” With a small smirk, she reached into her saddlebag, and pulled out a small foil packet.

Fleur’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she tore it open. “Still as pragmatic as ever, I see.”

Bon Bon shrugged as she emptied the entire packet of crushed red pepper onto her salad. “Well, since the last mark on your file is you draining a SEMHA agent nearly into a coma, you'll excuse me if I don't let my guard down completely.”

It was almost like she was taunting her. Lyra didn’t think this was wise, especially since they were here asking for help.

But Fleur de Lis seemed unoffended. She tutted and shook her head. “If you’d read my file, you’d know I’ve been a good little vampony, aside from that little incident. I haven't fed to death in over a century. Besides, that was years ago.” Fleur sighed dramatically. “Then again, I suppose it's only fair,” she conceded, twirling her fork. “Though in my defense, he did find it necessary to attempt to take a picture under my tail, and without permission, at that. I just found myself so… riled.”

Bon Bon snorted. Lyra had to concede that she wouldn’t like somepony looking under her tail without permission, either. But there was-

Her ears tinged red and she quickly shoveled a bite of salad into her mouth. Her eyes brightened. It was delicious.

Fleur chuckled demurely. “Good, isn't it, little one?”

Lyra nodded.

Bon Bon offered Lyra another packet of red pepper, but Lyra, not being a fan of spicy, shook her head. Bon Bon pursed her lips, but didn't push it.

“And I certainly don't go around hunting like I used to. I’ve only been with one partner for the last few years. I make sure to take… good care of him.”

Lyra blushed at those implications.

Fleur noticed and laughed at this, a true laugh this time. “Oh, my precious unicorn, vamponies aren’t that much different than normal ponies, aside from our stunning good looks and our longevity. We enjoy the more…” She sighed deeply. “-carnal pleasures of life, too.”

“What she does is she’s learned to control her desire to feed,” Bon Bon corrected quietly. “Keeps her fed and off the SEMHA radar. It’s a win-win.”

“Just a little bit of blood at a time,” Fleur confirmed as she lifted another forkful of salad. “Fancy Pants doesn’t even notice. It makes it so much sweeter every time I do.”

Lyra looked down. She quickly decided she would not like to be on the receiving end of that.

Their salads soon were finished, so Fleur stood up and began washing the dishes. Lyra and Bon Bon retired to the sitting room, and Bon Bon checked on her equipment saddlebags. Her lips pursed. Apparently, she didn't like what she saw.

“Running low?” Lyra asked.

Bon Bon shrugged. “Yes and no,” she said. “Plenty of salt, couple more pepper packets, couple firesticks, a few silver blades, a flashbang, and a dragon whistler; but not a lot else against normal ponies or anything else who isn't silver sensitive, and I still don't know who or what is chasing us.”

Lyra looked up. “Maybe we could bring Fleur as a bodyguard,” she joked.

Fleur looked back at Lyra, cracking a smile. “Tempting; but I have prior commitments. Fancy Pants is hosting a dinner party I simply must attend tomorrow, and I can't have… blood on my hooves.” She smiled at her pun. “You understand.” And she ran her tongue along the front of her teeth, revealing-

“Ha!” Lyra pointed. “You do have fangs!”

In the blink of an eye, Fleur darted over to stand not even a pace in front of Lyra. She was fast, faster than she appeared. She smiled widely, teeth apart, showing them off. They glinted in the light. “Of course,” she said softly. “Tiny, and sharp. And very effective. Nopony even feels a thing.”

Lyra leaned back in an attempt to put some distance between them, but found herself up against the coffee table.

The fact that Fleur licked her lips didn’t put her at ease. “I do love unicorns. I find their blood especially delectable. And you, little one… you smell wonderful. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in a… generous donation?”

Bon Bon stepped in front of Lyra, going nose to nose with Fleur. “No deal,” she growled.

Fleur exhaled. “Spoilsport,” she said, pushing out her lower lip to extreme proportions and pouting.

“She’s gonna bite you instead!” Lyra whispered.

“She knows the capsaicin in my bloodstream will make my blood unpalatable,” Bon Bon whispered back.

Fleur pursed her lips. “Oh, Special Agent Sweetie Drops, where is your legendary trust of us poor monsters?”

“There's only one unicorn here I trust, Fleur, and it's not you, miss ‘I-don't-go-around-hunting’.”

Fleur chuckled lightly and turned around. “Very well. Since my house is yours tonight, I'll make up the guest room.” She audibly smiled. “And feel free to shower.” Her voice grew slightly strained; apparently her sense of smell was still plenty sensitive. “Please.”

Bon Bon showered first. Lyra found herself wishing the shower were large enough for two ponies.

Especially since Bon Bon wouldn't leave Lyra alone until she had given her the remaining flashbang grenade, showed her how to use it, and instructed her in no uncertain terms to pull the pin the instant Fleur did anything sketchy.

Thus it was that the two unicorns sat in the living room, Fleur in a chair and Lyra on the couch, with Lyra holding a grenade awkwardly on her lap.

Lyra gestured weakly at it. “I'm… sorry about all this,” she said.

Fleur shook her head. “Don't be. Sweetie Drops may have a rock's sense of humor, and be about as approachable as a cactus; but she's honorable, and nothing if not fair. Everypony knows that.” She smiled again. “Besides, she’s right. All things considered, I am a dangerous predator.” She lowered her head and looked up through hooded eyes, and let a small smile flicker across her lips.

Lyra nodded hesitantly. It was scary, but at the same time a bit of a thrill.

Fleur smiled comfortingly. “New world, isn't it, little one?”

Lyra bit her lower lip. “Well…”

Fleur nodded. “It was like that for me, first discovering my new abilities and weaknesses—waking up so thirsty I thought I would die, crying in pain from the awful smells in the pantry, walking outside in the middle of the night—realizing that there was a whole new world that I had no idea existed that was hiding in plain sight. Realizing that vamponies are not the only monsters that are real. Realizing there are ponies who train to hunt us, hurt us.” She cracked a wry smile. “Realizing the guardspony I had always hated in the market was actually an ehowolf.” She sighed wistfully. “Ah, good times.”

Lyra considered this, wondering how much of what those novels said was actually real. “So, do vamponies and ehowolves, uh, really not like each other?”

Fleur shrugged. “We are both magical creatures, and our magic happens to be incompatible. The effect is almost, poisonous, I think is the right word. We bite them, it takes forever to heal; they scratch us, it takes forever to heal. Have you ever seen an ehowolf bite? It is not pretty. Our relationship is mostly ‘you stay on your side, and we'll stay on ours’.” She looked off and pursed her lips. “Though I have never met an ehowolf who isn't a complete brute, make of that what you will.”

Lyra’s undying curiosity got the better of her. “So if you were to fight an ehowolf, would you win?”

Fleur smiled, revealing her teeth once more. “Like that is even a question, little one. But one good scratch on my face is all it would take to reduce me from a full frontal model to a flank-and-socks model, and, well, you see what a tragedy that would be.” She lifted her head up, posing again.

She certainly was a pretty pony, Lyra had to admit. “Have you always been a model?”

Fleur snorted, her eyes narrowing. “I was a scullery maid, banished to the kitchens because the mistress of the house did not like the way I caught the eye of the master of the house.” She snorted. “Miserable old bat. I drained her dry.”

Lyra shuddered.

Thankfully, Bon Bon chose this moment to enter, still wearing a towel on her mane. “So, glad to see you’ve both survived.”

Fleur blinked demurely.

Bon Bon rolled her eyes and motioned Lyra to the bathroom.

In the bathroom, Lyra whistled. She had never seen so many beauty products, and had no idea what half these bottles were, and of the ones she did recognize, there were so many duplicates or slight scent changes. Heavenly Citrus as opposed to Tropical Citrus; Strawberry, Melon, and Strawberry Melon, Strawberry Kiwi, Strawberry Banana; actually, whoever the strawberry salespony was, he was certainly good at his job.

She glanced up in the mirror, having sensed a change. Was the lighting a bit off? She squinted at the mirror, trying to see if she could figure out what was wrong. She couldn’t, and looked down at the shampoo bottle again. But something was still niggling at her, something wasn’t right.

Just as she was about to chalk it up to Bon Bon’s paranoia rubbing off on her, she looked over and gasped.

Fleur was standing beside her. She was not showing up in the mirror!

“Try the lavender, little one,” she whispered, slowly backing out of the bathroom. “It's my favorite.”

Lyra closed the door in front of her and reached for the strawberry kiwi scent instead.

Lyra sighed as she trotted back to the room. She was freshly bathed, her mane and coat were clean, and she felt wonderful. “I want to keep this towel,” she purred. “So soft.”

“Yeah, she can buy good stuff,” Bon Bon said, tossing one of the blankets over the couch. “Little perk of being alive for a century and a half. Which is why most vamponies deal in favors and promises, not bits. You can have the bed.” She trotted over and slid a nearby dresser against the door as a barricade; then overturned a table (Lyra suddenly noticed that it had been cleared of all its contents) over the window, blocking it. Anypony trying to come in would have to break the window above the table, cutting themselves; or probably knocking over the table in the process of trying to open it. Efficient.
Lyra squinted as something occurred to her. “Bon Bon?”

Bon Bon spread a trail of salt in a semicircle around the window. “I'm not leaving you in a room alone tonight, and I’m not sleeping without a little security.” She climbed onto the couch, flipped her pillow over to get to the cool side (Lyra could see that she had a knife hidden underneath it), and then suddenly realized just how much control she’d taken of the situation. She winced. “Hope you're not too, uh, uncomfortable with me here,” she offered hesitantly.

“No, I… no, not at all.” Lyra climbed into bed. She sighed in exultation and her eyes drifted shut. “Oh, this is nice.” Her eyes opened. “Uh, I mean…”

“You’re fine,” Bon Bon said with a smile. “I chose the couch and it’s plenty comfortable, too.”

“Thanks,” Lyra said quietly. “Good night, Bon Bon.”

“Good night, Lyra.”

Author's Note

You can read more about vamponies (and other monsters) here.

Vampony Attack!

Lyra awoke early the next morning to the smell of something frying. Her eyes slowly drifted open.

The first thing she noticed was that Bon Bon was already up. She had apparently decided to make the most of her morning already; she was doing sit-ups. Many sit-ups. Without stopping. Lyra couldn’t help but watch the muscles ripple under her best friend’s fur. Her tongue subconsciously slipped out.

Suddenly, there came a knock on the door. Lyra jumped. Bon Bon looked over and grinned. “Good morning, Lyra.”

Lyra quickly wiped her face, hoping desperately Bon Bon hadn’t noticed her staring. Hopefully she thought the knock had startled her awake. “Yeah, g- good morning.”

Bon Bon trotted over to the door, slid the dresser back, and opened the door. “Morning, Fleur.”

“Good morning!” Fleur returned cheerfully. She held up a plate with her magic. “I made breakfast!”

Bon Bon nodded. “Thanks.” She looked over. “Lyra, you ready to get up?”

Lyra nodded, too. She suddenly realized she was pretty hungry. There had been a lot of running yesterday that she had not been planning on doing, and her body was starting to notice—and complain.

As they walked over to the kitchen, Bon Bon paused, up against the corner of the wall looking into the living room. “These windows are really open,” she said, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

“I know!” Fleur said cheerfully. “It is such a lovely morning.”

“No, ‘it burns’?” Lyra asked curiously.

“Again, older vampony,” Bon Bon said, glaring suspiciously at the window. “She's gotten used to the light.”

“True; though I do appreciate it when sunglasses come back in fashion every few decades,” Fleur said, dishing out a couple plates. “Please, have a seat.”

Breakfast was delicious, and Lyra quickly found herself adding more to her plate. She was now convinced that Fleur had graduated up from scullery maid very quickly.

Maybe it had happened after she'd killed that mare? Nothing would be holding her back then.

Now more than slightly uncomfortable with that train of thought, she looked down at her breakfast and picked up another bite.

Fleur tittered. “Sweetie Drops, it is not like it is going to run away,” she said.

Lyra glanced over to see Bon Bon eating quickly again, just like she had at the diner.

Bon Bon grunted noncommittally and shoveled another bite into her mouth.

“And so fast, it is almost like you are not enjoying it,” she pouted, her lower lip jutting out cutely.

Bon Bon rolled her eyes. “Well, if you're fishing for a compliment, then...” But her voice trailed off. With her fork halfway to her mouth, her ears pricked, and then she suddenly launched herself at Lyra, tackling her. “Get down!”

Before Lyra could articulate a response to being so thrown, and even before she hit the ground, an explosion rocked the house. Fleur cried out in pain and hit the ground, her own silverware flying and clattering to the ground a split second later.
Bon Bon lay still. So still. Lyra couldn't move beneath her. Her heart was seized by a cold grip. Was she…?

Two ponies entered. “I think we got her,” the first one said.

The second one nudged Fleur with the top of his hoof. “We got Fleur de Lis, too. That won't bite us in the flank,” he said sarcastically.

“Collateral damage,” the first said dismissively. “That's why we used the silver grenade, remember?” He turned to Bon Bon. “We got the one we were paid to. She's one model. She won't be missed.”

Bon Bon snorted, as if amused. But before anything further than weapons could be leveled, a new voice broke in.

“Now, to that, I do take offense.”

They looked over and at the same time, Bon Bon lashed out with her hind legs, and both jumped from the dual threat of a ‘dead’ pony come back to life and a very angry Fleur de Lis behind him.

One managed to avoid Bon Bon's kick, but the first was not as lucky. Fleur de Lis punched him. Her strength was much greater than that of the average pony; her impact very nearly caved in his skull and he dropped, dead before he hit the ground.

Bon Bon was on her hooves and swinging. She hit the second pony hard enough to knock a couple weapons loose, and at least two knives hit the floor. Not even bothering to try and fight back against the two mares, he tore out the door and disappeared down the hall.

Lyra looked at Bon Bon, and then at Fleur. “Are you ok?” she asked.

“I'm good,” Bon Bon scowled, wiping brusquely at the blood trickling down her face.

“Older vampony,” Fleur groaned through gritted teeth, borrowing Bon Bon's phrase. “Silver burns like a fire, but a cold bath and a little time, and I shall be fine.” She straightened up and took a few calming breaths, slowing her breathing down from the frenzied panting. Now that the immediate danger had passed, Fleur looked down. She grimaced and glanced up at Bon Bon. “Oopsie?” she tried.

Bon Bon exhaled and massaged her face with her hoof. “Let me see your hoof,” she sighed.

Lyra watched in apprehensive fascination as Bon Bon examined Fleur’s hoof, and then the apartment. She looked around, looking critically at everything in her apartment from the chair legs to the pepper grinder, and finally settled on the bottom of the leg of the small side table. “You were startled, grabbed the first thing you could with magic, and threw this table at him. It just happened to hit him just right, he didn't move again. That’s all you know-”

“And I was so frightened that it is all a blur; and I’m so sorry, officer, but that’s all I can remember, I couldn't even say how many there were,” Fleur finished dolefully. Apparently, this hadn't been her first time telling a story like this. She sighed and lifted the table with her magic, unceremoniously dumping its contents all over the floor, letting them smash to help sell the illusion. She winced. “If SEMHA were still active, I would ask compensation for those perfumes.”

Bon Bon smirked. “If SEMHA were still active, I wouldn’t be here—and I wouldn't owe you a favor. Lyra, I think it’s time we left before the royal guard shows up.”

Fleur nodded. “I'll start washing the dishes,” she said. “‘Nervous habit’, you know.”

It would also hide how many ponies had been there. Lyra slowly nodded and followed Bon Bon out.

“But if you ever want to visit again, you are welcome to,” Fleur called. “Especially your unicorn friend!”

“Go choke on a toothpick!”

A Long Time Coming

“Where are we going now?” Lyra asked.

“Away,” Bon Bon said cryptically, looking through the map.

Lyra glanced around the convenience store. “Where is away?” she asked.

“I don't know,” Bon Bon whispered. “I'm really running out of options here.”

This didn't sound like her. Lyra stepped beside her, pressing their shoulders together. “Bon Bon, are you doing alright?”

“Not really. I'm scared, ok?” Bon Bon hissed. “I don't know where we're going, I don't know who's chasing us, I don't know how they keep finding us, I don't know how they knew Fleur is a vampony, I don't know where they got a silver grenade, and this all seems like a really bad dream that I can't wake up from. And I feel even worse that I dragged my best friend into this mess! I-” Her voice trailed off. “I didn't want this,” she said quietly. “This, stuff like this, is why I never told you or anypony about my past as an agent. I didn't want it coming up again. I'd thought this was all behind me.”

“It's ok,” Lyra said comfortingly. “I trust you. You haven't lead us wrong yet.”

Bon Bon took a breath. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.” She exhaled slowly and put the map back. “You really are my best friend,” she said. “And I think I have an idea.”

Lyra followed behind her. And as long as things were being said… Lyra swallowed. She had to. “Bon Bon, I…”

“Wait.” Bon Bon had spotted something. She looked around, and then trotted over to a nearby post. “No way,” she whispered.

Lyra read over her shoulder. Her eyes widened. “Agent reactivation?”

Bon Bon looked around and pressed her hoof against the seal. “True orders from the princess glow with her cutie mark if you touch it and channel a little magic into it,” she explained.

“Because only she knows the spell?”

“Because only she has enough magical ability to weave it so it doesn't bleed magic everywhere and decay over time.”

This sounded vaguely familiar to Lyra from her school days. “What does this mean?”

“It means whoever is chasing me knows me really, really well.” Her voice grew tighter as no such glow appeared. “It also means it's time to run.” She turned to do so and as she did, Lyra squeaked as a dart embedded itself into the wooden post, missing Bon Bon by inches.

Bon Bon grabbed her hoof. “Run!” she cried.

They tore down the street, Bon Bon ahead once again. Lyra panted as she ran.

And then Bon Bon slowed down. Lyra squeaked in surprise as Bon Bon grabbed her tail and yanked her to a stop. A pony came from out of nowhere, just narrowly missing her.

Bon Bon gasped, and her eyes narrowed. “I know this guy,” she said through gritted teeth. “He’s an ehowolf. Run!”

Lyra needed no second invitation. She turned and ran.

Bon Bon hated the idea of splitting up. Monster hunting was always more efficient with at least two sets of eyes. Furthermore, ponies had historically begun as a prey species, and there was definitely strength in numbers.

But she hated the idea of Lyra seeing what was about to happen even more.

Especially since this had been a long time coming.

She circled as he did, being very careful to not cross herself up. “Hey, Twinkle.”

“It's Roan,” he corrected angrily.

“I'm sure,” Bon Bon said airily. “You know, I vaguely remember telling you that if our paths ever crossed again, I'd kill you.”

“Brave words from somepony all alone, Special Agent Sweetie Drops.” He sneered her title, as if implying she didn't deserve it.

Bon Bon smirked. “Looks like you're alone, too, Twinkle. What, your third-grade class not running with you anymore? Realizing what a terrible ‘alpha wolf’ you were?” Her voice grew harder. “Not down with watching one of their friends be eaten because he wanted out of your little ‘pack’?”

He smiled, not rising to the bait. “It's a wolf thing. You wouldn't understand. That green mare, she a friend of yours?”

“Best friend. And you're lucky you missed; if you'd touched her at all, your death would've been nice and slow. I would have stuck you in a box and marinated you in wolfsbane.”

Twinkle growled, his mask cracking ever so slightly.

“Ooh, wolfy.” She slid her saddlebags onto the ground and rolled her neck out. “Show me what you've got.”

He growled and pawed at the ground. Bon Bon reared up in her own challenge.

Twinkle charged, mouth open in an angry snarl.

At the last second, Bon Bon grabbed the strap of Nilla’s saddlebag and swung it like a throwing hammer. Her timing was impeccable, and the heavy bag slammed into the side of his head. The impact knocked him off kilter, but his momentum still carried him forward, allowing Bon Bon to twist and deliver a sharp jab to his exposed ribs.

Twinkle cried out in pain. He stumbled, regained his footing, and circled, this time suspiciously.

Never breaking eye contact, Bon Bon reached down, flipped the bag open, and retrieved a silver knife. She flipped it around her hoof and grinned.

Twinkle snarled. He charged forward, and Bon Bon turned and ran, scooping up her saddlebags and fleeing. He barked a laugh and ran harder.

Bon Bon fled into in alleyway, tucked between two buildings—and out of sight of the public eye.

In any fight, the longer it went on, the more likely it was that you would make a mistake. Mistakes got you killed. Therefore, your best bet was ending the fight before you had a chance to make any.

Or, alternatively, let your opponent make the mistakes first, then capitalize on them.

And sometimes, you had to help cause those mistakes.

Twinkle blindly rounded the corner to the left and ran shoulder-first into the dumpster that Bon Bon had shoved into the path. Jarred from the sudden impact, he stumbled to the side, and Bon Bon jumped from her hiding place on the right of the alley. She slammed the butt of the knife into the side of his head, rocking him back and leaving a red mark on the side of his cheek.

And then she flipped it around and drove it into his chest.

The silver worked instantly. He stiffened and choked out his last breath.

“Awoo,” Bon Bon whispered, a quiet mockery of an ehowolf howl. She twisted the knife one last time, watching the light fade from his eyes, then pulled it out and kicked his body away. It fell behind the dumpster.

She looked around, scanning. She knew Twinkle—and where he usually preyed. She'd bet her cutie mark he hadn't come here al-

There! A small group of foals, staring wide-eyed at her, hiding in the back of the alleyway. She took the tiniest step forward, and three of them ran. The smallest pressed himself against the wall, as if trying to hide or maybe force himself through the brick. Or maybe he was hoping he was blending in, but his periwinkle blue coat stood out against the rusty red bricks behind him.

Bon Bon neared and crouched down a respectful distance away, so as to not spook him. “Kinda freaky, isn’t it?” she started, her voice low. “This whole hidden world that most ponies don't know about.”

The colt nodded, trying to gauge how much of a threat she was to him, and clearly still trying to comprehend how this mare could go from deadly to friendly so quickly.

“How’d you get mixed up in this?”

He stammered an answer. “He said… he said I was, uh…”

“-destined for greatness?” Bon Bon supplied.

He nodded.

“But you needed to give up your equinity in order to reach your full potential?”

He nodded again.

“And did he tell you about alphas and obedience?”

He nodded again, clearly a little surprised that she knew about all of that.

Bon Bon nodded regretfully. “That's flawed research. That's not how timberwolves or ehowolves are supposed to work, and believe me, most ehowolves don’t think that way. Your pack is supposed to be like a family. But if it makes a difference, you're not the first one he's spun that lie to. There isn't a way to undo your bite, but you can balance your wolf half and pony half. There's a group that meets Wednesday nights in the Canterlot library, in the basement. It's during Bingo night, so don't let that stop you. Find the pony wearing a scarf with bones on it, tell them ‘I’m a new pup who came to bark at the moon’. They'll teach you everything from how to control your transformation so it doesn’t hurt as bad to how to help treat wolfsbane injuries.” She cracked a wry smile. “But don't worry. They make it sound like it's a terrible thing, but I've never actually seen an ehowolf step in it.” She looked over her shoulder and saw a pony looking at her and quickly look away. She gave the colt a weak grin. “Aaand I gotta go. Bye!” And with that, Bon Bon ran out of the alleyway. She lowered her shoulder as she rounded the corner. “Excuse me!” she said, knocking over the pony’s coffee into his chest. She really hoped he'd actually been hunting her, otherwise that would have been pretty awkward.

She darted down the street, scanning desperately for Lyra. She could hear hoofsteps behind her getting faster; she was being chased again.

Author's Note

You can read more about ehowolves (and other monsters) here.

Ponies Can't Live on Bread Alone

Bon Bon flew around corners and sprinted around ponies like they were standing still, weaving through groups. As she ran, she scanned the ponies rapidly, looking both for any possible threats and for Lyra. She was pretty convinced that Twinkle had not been the one who had a dart at her, which meant there was at least one more pony hunting her. Probably more. And now the idea to split up was sounding worse and worse; doubt gnawed at her stomach. Lyra was a good pony, but she doubted she could hold her own in a fair fight, let alone a street fight like these were shaping up to be. She wouldn’t have known what to look for.

Still continuing her crazy run, she passed various shops. A bookstore, good for hiding but also good for getting ambushed, a small fruit stand, a little bakery with a single baker in a really bulky wheelchair and covered by a blanket…

Bon Bon quickly changed course, burst through the door, and one diving slide later, she was on her back behind the front counter.

The baker looked down at her, shocked. Her mouth worked wordlessly as she tried to process this unexpected turn of events. “You're not supposed to be here,” she finally said.

“I just need a little time to lose some ponies. You won't even know I'm here.”

“What?” She shook her head. “No, get out! This is my bakery!”

Bon Bon smiled wryly. “Sorry. Extenuating circumstances.”

“I'll call the Royal guard,” she threatened.

“I'll kick your wheelchair over and reveal you as a lamia,” Bon Bon returned.

The baker’s eyes narrowed, and she looked out over her counter again. “Agent of SEMHA, I presume?” she asked coldly.

“Former, yes.”

“I had nothing to do with that mare disappearing, I swear. I've never even eaten pony.”

Bon Bon sniffed. “I'm more likely to report you for not cleaning your floors properly.” She dragged the tip of her hoof across the ground and examined it critically. “I know the regs, there's no way this has been sanitized in the last four hours.”

The lamia looked down angrily. “I work alone and it is hard to clean from a wheelchair,” she hissed.

“Look up and don't talk to me,” Bon Bon hissed back.

She scowled as she obeyed the first half of that order. “How did you know?”

“Lamia forelegs are a bit longer and higher up on the torso, for easier gripping. You don't notice it unless you're looking for it. And most of the lamia I’ve met have been bakers. It's always warm, the floor has to be tile or polished wood which lets the wheelchairs roll easily, and you get to practice your swallowing with fresh, pony-temperature loaves of bread.”

“That is a filthy rumor spread by scalehaters and nothing more.”

Bon Bon squinted, sizing her up.

She looked down, feeling her gaze. “What?” she demanded.

“Bet you can do at least, I'd say, a foot and a half diameter.”

The lamia scowled. “One foot, seven inches and a quarter,” she corrected sullenly, both not wanting to prove her right and wanting to prove her wrong.

Bon Bon smirked. As ‘toothless’ a predator as they had become, lamia were to a one proud of their swallowing ability.

The bell over the door jingled. The lamia smiled, putting on her most welcoming voice. “Welcome to the Small Scale Bakery, what can I get for you?”

Bon Bon snorted a laugh, and quickly covered her face. Why did she laugh at everything?

But it was already too late. Her eyes flicked down, and his followed.

His face twisted into a smile. “I think you've got something else here. Like a rat that needs exterminating.”

“No, no rats,” she said, but her ears pinned. “Just… just bread. And other… bready things.”

Bon Bon scowled. Civilians. No good under pressure.

He gave her a patronizing smile, then leaned over the counter, dagger held up threateningly-

But nopony was there.

She held up her hoof disarmingly. “S- see?” she said shakily, wheeling back a bit to put a little more room between them. “Just… just me here.”

There was a clattering noise in the kitchen behind her.

“A- and my assistant,” she stammered. “Bakery assistant. In the back. Of my shop. Where assistants usually are.”

He jumped the counter.

“Hey, you can’t-”

He hit her in the face with the butt of his knife and kept walking.

In the back, Bon Bon looked up from her stack of baking pans and put on her best ‘surprised’ face. “You can’t be back here,” she said.

“You know exactly why I’m back here,” he said, leveling it at her, “Special Agent Sweetie Drops.”

“I’m afraid I don’t.” She picked up the pan and spun it over her hoof. “But please, tell me more about it.”

He flipped his knife around his hoof and started to circle. “You want to dance?”

“In all honesty, no. Four left rear hooves, you see,” Bon Bon admitted.

“Well, I do, hope you don’t mind if I-” he slashed, “-cut in.”

Bon Bon barked a laugh as she swatted his hoof away with the flat of the tray. “Alright,” she said, slapping him across the face with the edge, “we don’t have to talk.”

The pan had better range than his knife, so when he stabbed again, she just batted it down and poked him in the face, cutting his lip on his own teeth. She circled, trying to get him with his back towards the ovens and her back towards the entrance for an escape.

A sharp gasp made her look over. The lamia was staring at the fight in her kitchen.

Civilian interference! She could never get away from it! “Why are you in here?” Bon Bon hissed.

That moment of distraction was enough; he pulled out a grenade, ripped the pin out with his teeth, and threw it.

But there had been far too many grenades recently, and Bon Bon was having none of it. She kicked it back blindly behind her, and in one motion, she grabbed the lamia by the neck, grabbed the edge of the table with the other hoof, and launched herself; using her weight to pull the table over as a shield and bringing her with her. “Get down!”

And not a moment too soon; the grenade exploded, sending flour flying everywhere and embedding shrapnel into the table.

“Enough stinking grenades,” Bon Bon grumbled even as her ears rang and her vision shook. She poked her head out, her trusty baking tray held up and at the ready; but she brightened grimly as she noticed that her retort had been fatal. He had not managed to kick it back in time. Relieved, she looked back down at the lamia.

Part of her snake tail had not made it behind the table, and she now bore burns and shrapnel dangerously close to her most sensitive organs. Bon Bon pursed her lips and began to work. Grabbing a rag from the clean pile and a small container, she filled it with water, sniffed all the metal containers until she found the baking soda, and made a paste. She had the rag soaked and pressed against her burns before she had fully regained consciousness.

Bon Bon winked. “Keep it elevated and don't slither on it for at least two weeks. Gotta go.” She turned to leave and nearly stepped on the body. She paused, looked down at it, then looked back at the lamia and winked before running out onto the main floor. She paused long enough to flip the sign to ‘closed’ before running again.

The lamia stood up, raised up (very carefully) on the uninjured portion of her tail. She slithered forward hesitantly, propelling herself forward with her snake half for the first time in a long time during the day. It… it wouldn't matter too much, right? The SEMHA agent had basically tacitly approved, hadn't she? How else was she supposed to interpret that wink? And technically, he was already dead. It's not like it would make much of a difference, she certainly wasn't going to report it; and she'd probably never get this chance again. Besides, he'd attacked her. Self-defense was in the law. Her tongue ran across her upper lip as she scooted forward, her torso lowering, her lower jaw unhinging…

Outside, Bon Bon smirked. She’d always had a bit of a soft spot for lamia, mostly because throughout all her years as a Special Agent, they’d never given her any real trouble. And every once in a while, she got fresh bread as-

A sharp stabbing pain in her flank dragged her thoughts back into the present. She looked back and her heart skipped a beat.

A dart.

She ripped it out of her flesh and swore under her breath. She didn’t know what it was or who had shot it at her, but she didn’t like it already. She took a steadying breath, held it, and let it out slowly, trying to keep her heart rate down because she knew that freaking out would just spread whatever poison it was through her bloodstream faster. She needed a safe place to hide and wait it out, maybe figure out an antidote. She couldn’t go back to the bakery, not so soon. She walked slowly, ears flicking, trying to slow her breath, trying to ignore the slight misstep from her hooves as dizziness brushed against her mind.

Where was Lyra? Would she be ok? Bon Bon had been her protector all this time and what was she going to do now? Alone? Hunted? Stuck in a world she didn’t understand?

She shook her head, trying to clear it. Her hooves stumbled, and she looked around more desperately for someplace to hide. But it was futile; ponies were starting to look, some even started whispering. Too much attention!

She was starting to sweat. She’d definitely been poisoned. She tried to force her brain to think. What did she have that could help? Her bag, it was mostly weapons but-

Her saddlebag!

She had to hide it. If she was caught with it, that would bring up too many questions, least of all why she was carrying a bag with a recently-murdered Vanilla Swirl’s name on it. She headed down an alleyway and shoved it behind a dumpster, and kept walking, hoping she’d done it well enough to not draw attention. Her vision was getting cloudier now, and she briefly considered hiding herself back there, as well, and hoping to just wait it out, but it was too late for that. She had to get away from there, in case she could come back.

But as she stumbled out of the alley, she landed right in front of a pair of Royal Guards. And sticking out from under the wing of one was the tip of something that could be a flute… or a blowdart gun.

“Looks like somepony had a little too much to drink,” one said, stepping forward.

Crooked royal guard, she seethed as her world turned to blackness. I hate it when I’m right.

Author's Note

You can read more about Lamia (and other monsters, too) here.

Desperate Times

Lyra continued running, running with energy she didn't know she'd had. She was getting tired and paranoid, not a good combination. She didn’t even know where she was going.

The golden glint of royal guard armor made her stop. For the briefest of moments, she was sure she was saved.

But then she skidded to a stop. Bon Bon’s warning of crooked guards flashed through her head again. Instead of approaching, she darted into an alleyway and peeked out.

And not a moment too soon. She saw her best friend being loaded into a barred wagon, her head lolling. She was clearly unconscious.

Lyra stepped backwards, her heart racing. What had they done to her? Had they done anything to her? Maybe they were innocent and something else had found her?

One of the other guards glanced at her and his eyes paused on her. They widened ever so briefly.

Like he recognized her.

He shifted to step forward, and Lyra wheeled around and started running again, fear giving her strength.

She darted through the streets, not daring to look backwards. Where she was going, she had no idea; she just knew she had to run.

And then she gasped as a pair of hooves seized her from behind.

The guardspony peered through the window. He’d heard a squeal, definitely female. Was it her?

He saw a baker in a wheelchair, by the sink, washing her hooves and clearly grumbling irritably. A tray lay dropped on the ground.

He smirked and kept walking. He’d find her.

The baker waited a few seconds longer, and then turned off the water. “Alright, it's clear.”

Lyra extracted herself from the pile of flour bags. “Thanks,” she said, shaking her head to fluff out her mane. “I owe you one.”

The baker waved a hoof dismissively. “It's fine. I saw you running and, well, that particular guard gives me the creeps.” She shuddered. “You didn’t look like a bad pony.”

“I’m not, and I don’t think he was up to anything good,” Lyra agreed. Now that she was safe and her heart rate had started to slow, she glanced around, suddenly noticing the scorched floors. They looked oddly familiar, like Fleur’s after the attack there. “What happened here?”

“Long story,” the baker said wryly. “Baking accident.”

“Did Bon Bon tell you to say that?”

“Bon Bon?”

“Sweetie Drops?” Lyra tried. Maybe this mare was actually a monster, too?

She squinted. “Blue and pink mane, three candies on her flank?” she guessed.

Lyra nodded.

She smiled. “Now I’m really glad I saved you. Let's just say she's welcome to anything in my shop…”

Lyra smiled. What a grateful pony.

“…any time she comes back.”

Lyra blinked. Oddly grateful.

Still, she wasn't about to question this. She had more important concerns. “She was captured, did you see that?”

The baker bit her lower lip and shook her head. “Oh, no,” she breathed.

“I have to get her back. Can you help me?”

“I am in a wheelchair,” the baker hissed. “What help do you think I’d be?”

“Are you not one of her…” Lyra sought for a good euphemism, “friends, in, uh, secret places?”

“No!” she squeaked. “Well, y- yes,” she amended, “but no! I am a lamia, and we don't get involved in this kind of stuff. We are cuddlers, not fighters. And we don't eat ponies anymore.” She paused and her eyes flicked to the side ever so briefly. “And if we did—and I’m not saying that we do!—they wouldn’t be alive or anything like that.” She shook her head. “I'm a baker. I make bread, and rolls, and loaves, and cakes, and sometimes pastries. I don't fight. You'd need an active predator, like a vampony or something.”

Lyra blinked. She knew a vampony. An older, and therefore stronger, vampony.

The lamia’s eyes narrowed. “I don't like the look on your face.”

“I don't like the idea in my brain,” Lyra admitted. She exhaled through her nose. “But I'm not seeing any other option. I can't leave her there.”

“Well, if it's the last time I'm going to see you…” She spread her forelegs. “Can I have a hug?”

Lyra stepped forward. “Sure. I could use one.”

The baker wrapped her hooves around her. It was snug and comforting. For a snake, she was actually pretty warm, and Lyra sank into the hug. “Ooh. This is nice.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” The baker leaned down and affectionately nuzzled her cheek. “But it will get you a free roll on your way out.”

Lyra inhaled. This was craziness. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She was sneaking into a party. She was actually sneaking into a fancy party. She groaned. The roll had been light, buttery, and fluffy; but her stomach still felt like she’d eaten a rock instead.

Fancy Pants had a fancy house to go along with his aforementioned pants, with a huge back wall. This would be a problem, were Lyra not a native of Canterlot.

But she was, born and raised. And when she was younger, she and a few other friends had sneaked in to a few parties themselves, when they probably should have been studying. Lemon Hearts had been particularly daring during these escapades. She had always been the first to jump, the first on the fence, the first to slide, even when it got her in trouble. Or stuck somewhere. That little incident with the beaker in magic kindergarten came to mind. Or that time they’d tried to sneak in to a big Hearth’s Warming party and Lemon Hearts had slipped off the wall and landed head-first in a snowbank, where she’d quickly been buried up (or was it down?) to her belly button. They’d all been laughing too hard to lift her out with magic, even Twilight. Even just the memory of her hind legs kicking desperately brought a little smile to Lyra’s face.

So Lyra tried to channel the successful part of her inner Lemon Hearts as she leaped up on the public fence. She made her way along, trying to look as sneaky as possible as she made her way over to the residential areas.

Eventually, the walls grew taller and the houses grew fancier, and her heart started pounding as the ground seemed that much further away. She lay down and crawled along the top, keeping low, her belly hugging the top so as to keep her profile small. She imagined Minuette there, cheering her on with her almost excessive cheerfulness.

And it worked. When she worked up the nerve to look around, she found herself halfway across the fence. She allowed herself a small smile and kept scooting.

The sound of the party reached her ears before she could see it. She recognized it, of course. Lots of light chatter, light classical music, and only vague smells of food. Nothing like the bashes Pinkie Pie threw.

Finally, she made it to the party itself. She poked her head around and checked to make sure she wasn’t being watched. When she was convinced she wasn’t (which didn’t take long; these kinds of ponies were too busy watching each other), she began to descend. Slowly, carefully, she slid her hindquarters off the wall, holding on with her forelegs. She didn’t want to use magic, as the light would draw attention to her.

As if her swaying hindquarters and long tail wouldn’t do that already.

She dropped to the ground, and squealed as she found herself inside a bush. She shook her head. That wouldn’t be good.

Sure enough, when she stepped out, there was a couple staring at her. A very well-dressed couple. Lyra was suddenly very much conscious of the fact that she was naked at this party. She didn't even have a hat. She quickly brushed off the leaves. “Sorry. I was… looking… for the, uh, back door,” she lied. Internally, she winced. That was weak. Twinkleshine was always faster at thinking on her hooves.

Still staring blankly, the stallion raised a hoof and pointed.

“Thank you,” Lyra said and quickly walked off.

She scanned around the party, hoping she was blending in but doubting it. She should have said she tripped into the bushes, that would have made more sense. But she was still naked. A wild thought of st- borrowing somepony’s hat while they were distracted ran through her mind.

But thankfully, nothing like that needed to happen; she spotted Fleur alongside Fancy Pants, chatting lightly (and both very well-dressed). It was now or never. Taking a quick steadying breath, Lyra stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest.
Fleur saw her approach. “Why, good evening,” she started. Her eyes flicked ever so briefly over Lyra’s body.

Channeling her inner Celestia, Lyra spoke. “Good evening,” she returned. “I was wondering if I may have a word with you, in private.”

Fleur parried. “I do appreciate your boldness. But this is such a lovely party; I hardly want to leave.”

“It's… urgent,” Lyra said. Her face scrunched, suddenly realizing that she did not know how to express this so Fleur could understand without letting everypony else know.

But apparently this was enough. Fleur’s eyes widened ever so briefly. “I see,” she whispered. She turned back to Fancy Pants and gently nuzzled him. “Fancy, darling, I’m afraid a little matter has come up. I’ll need to speak with my little unicorn friend here. You don’t mind, do you?”

Fancy Pants looked at her and smiled. “My dear Fleur, you’re a grown mare. You certainly don’t need my permission.” He leaned in close, offering a bit of affection of his own. “But do hurry back, please,” he added in a whisper. “You know how much I miss you when you're gone.”

“It’s not as much as I miss you,” Fleur answered, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Lyra bit her lower lip. They were cute together.

Fleur led her down the hall, then lifted a tapestry to reveal a small private alcove, out of sight of everypony. Lyra wouldn’t have noticed it.

Once inside and hidden from view, Fleur turned to her. “What can I do for you, little one?”

“I need your help to get Bon Bon out of jail.”

Fleur was taken aback. Whatever she’d expected, it hadn’t been that. “Out of jai-?”

“Tonight,” Lyra butted in. “Like, now.”

Fleur processed this, her beautiful face twisting in thought. “That’s quite the tall order,” she said loftily. “But let us suppose that I’m willing to help. What do you have to offer me in return?”

Lyra gulped and held her head high. “Myself.”

Fleur chuckled. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

“What?” Lyra gasped.

“It’s just… you’re adorable, don’t get me wrong; but I am simply not of that persuasion. Furthermore, I'm in a committed relationship. If you were thinking of your visit to my house, I only flashed you because you were looking so cute and flustered; I really didn't mean anything by it. And even if I were, this is hardly a romantic setting.” Fleur faux-pouted. “You didn’t even offer to take me to dinner first, and you’re already talking about lifting my tail.”

“Wha-? No, me! I’m offering you my blood!” Lyra hissed.

Fleur froze. Slowly, she looked around, making sure they were truly alone, and then looked back at Lyra, sizing her up, eyes flicking all around her as if seeing her in a new light. She stepped forward, moving so quickly she almost seemed to have teleported next to Lyra, who couldn't help but shy away. “Willingly?” she whispered hungrily.

“I’ll do anything for her,” Lyra said, hoping her voice wasn't shaking as much as she thought it was. “Even… even this.”

Fleur nodded. She stepped forward and gently lifted Lyra’s head into position with her hoof. “A- are you certain?” she asked softly.

Lyra licked her lips, but she stayed strong. “Promise to help me, and you can have me.”

Fleur leaned in close, her breath coming even faster now. “I promise. Thank you,” she whispered huskily. “Don't worry, darling, you won’t feel a thing.”

Lyra gulped. “Just do it,” she said tersely.

Fleur leaned down and Lyra could feel her warm breath on her neck. She felt a slight pressure, like the pokings she felt after the dentist pony had numbed her mouth, and then she couldn’t feel anything.

Her neck felt cool, and she could swear that blood was trickling down from somewhere. But Fleur had been telling the truth; she couldn't pinpoint from exactly where or if anything were actually happening. She was just there. All she could do was sit still, and wait.

And listen to the gentle sounds of Fleur swallowing her blood.

Right at the point where Lyra felt like she was getting lightheaded and that she'd have to sit down, Fleur pulled back, swallowing one last time. Almost tenderly, Fleur licked up the blood that had overrun, and pressed her lips against the site before applying direct pressure with her hoof. “Thank you, little one,” she whispered throatily into her ear. “Your blood is… mmh, exquisite.”

Lyra felt a bit weak, like when she’d been running for a while and hadn’t had enough water beforehoof. Still, important questions swirled in her mind. “I’m not going to become a vampony now, am I?”

Fleur laughed softly as she pulled back. “Not unless you drink my blood,” she answered. “And then you have to die before it leaves your system before you can come back as a vampony. It’s a rather uncomfortable process and a bit risky, actually. I can’t say I recommend it.”

Lyra gulped, briefly wondering how Fleur had become a vampire; then shook her head. “And Bon Bon…?”

Fleur nodded. “I am a mare of my word. Your blood for your friend’s freedom.”

Lyra nodded. “So how are you going to do it?”

Fleur paused and tapped her chin. “Well, I can’t be seen; but perhaps I don’t have to be.” A slow smile spread across her face. “Let me call in a favor.”

Jailbreak

At the Canterlot Holding Station #4, two Royal Guards were reviewing paperwork, by far their least favorite part of the job.

The mare looked back over the stack by her hoof. “Did you ever get the intake paperwork for that one mare? The cream one? Sweetie Bits or whatever her name is?”

The stallion shook his head. “Nah, I thought he did it when he brought her in.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too.” She shuffled her papers around, confirming what she already knew. “But now I can’t find it.”

“Ugh,” he groused. “The batty squad is going to hate that.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, well, in twenty minutes, it’s going to be their problem anyway, and not mine.”

Their conversation was interrupted as the door burst open, and two mares dressed in sparkling clothing darted in, as if standing guard or as an advance party for a pony who was to enter.

And enter she did. With a rolled-out red carpet, flashing lights, and a burst of colored smoke.

“I, Photo Finish, have arrived!” Photo Finish announced, one hoof raised triumphantly in the air.

The guards stared. “Who in the hoof are you?” the mare asked.

Photo Finish scowled and raised her nose even higher. “I, Photo Finish, am going to ignore zat insulting question; for art has called and I, Photo Finish, must answer!”

The mare stepped forward. “You’re about to face charges of-”

“Wait!” Photo Finish shrieked. “Hold zat pose!”

The mare paused, shocked into compliance by the sheer audacity of the request.

“Makeup!” Photo Finish shouted.

The two ponies rushed over and a cloud of powder enveloped all three. And when it cleared-

“Whoa,” the stallion murmured.

Even Lyra was taken aback. Photo Finish’s assistants had worked nothing short of magic. They’d done her mane, pulled it back, and curled it. They’d put on makeup, lipstick, and even pulled back her uniform shirt and had pinned it back so it was tighter against her body, and showed more of it at the same time. She looked much like a vintage pin-up model. She glanced at herself in the mirror and froze, her eyes wide at her own sight.

“Yes! Zat is it!” Photo Finish sang. She lifted her camera and began snapping pictures. “Show me something!”

Hesitantly, the mare turned away and looked back over her shoulder. “Like this?”

“Yes, more smolder!” Photo Finish called, snapping picture after picture. “More tummy! Show me more! Yes! Yes! No!”

“No?”

“Yes, but no,” Photo Finish amended, a frown flicking across her face. “It is…” She tapped her chin. “It is no good.” She brightened, as if a new idea had just occurred to her. “No, it is too much good,” she proclaimed. “There must be contrast!” She thrust her hoof in the air. “I, Photo Finish, require an actual inmate!”

That thought forced its way through the cloud over the stallion’s head. He shook it, trying to clear it. “An actual inmate-!?”

“We go!” And with that, the three charged down the hallway like some kind of powdery train. Lyra gave them a shaky smile and quickly followed behind.

They went to the holding cell, and as they neared, the sounds of effort could be heard. Bon Bon was in the middle of the room, with a few groaning ponies on the ground and others still circling, trying to attack her. One charged, and she dropped, yanking his head down to the ground. She landed on top, digging her elbow into his neck.

Photo Finish gasped dramatically. “Such ferocity! Such animality! Such brutality! I must have her!”

Bon Bon’s ears flicked. She looked back over, and her eyes widened as she recognized her visitors. She dropped the pony she was grappling with a single punch and stood, looking back at the gathered ponies. Her eyes flicked to each new pony and her jaw dropped in growing horror as she clearly recognized each one until she finally looked over at Lyra. ‘What did you do?’ she mouthed angrily.

“Yes, yes! She even turns her aggression towards us! Give me ze aggression!” Photo Finish shouted, holding a hoof up. “Give me… da magicks!”

Bon Bon returned the gesture with a little bit more animosity. “I’m about to give you a hoof right up your-”

“Wait! Yes! Zat is eet! Hold zat pose!” She turned to her attendants. “Get her out of there and give her ze makeups so we can create… da magicks!”

The two ponies zipped in, and Bon Bon found herself forcibly dragged out of the cell. A cloud of makeup and powder and blush and lipstick and eyeshadow covered Bon Bon, and she coughed as she made an attempt to push the attendants away. “Violet, you- Ow! Pixie, that was my eye, you- hey!”

When the dust cleared, Lyra’s jaw dropped. Bon Bon looked good. Her mane had been done, she was wearing just enough eyeshadow to make her natural color of her eyes pop without drawing too much attention to itself, just enough mascara to make her eyelashes look long and full but without looking clumpy, and the tiniest bit of blush on her cheeks made her look a little bit innocent.

Aside from the deep scowl set on her face, that is.

Photo Finish tapped her hoof against her chin and then shook her head. She held up the camera once, and this only seemed to confirm what she’d suspected. “No, no, no. Here ze lighting, eet is no good. Outside! We go!”

And in another cloud of dust, all the other ponies disappeared.

The two police ponies stared at the dissipating cloud.

“What just happened?” the stallion finally said.

“I have no idea,” the mare admitted. She glanced down at herself again. She liked what she saw.

“Was it a jailbreak?”

“I… maybe?”

A lunar guard stepped out of the bathroom, holding a cup of coffee on his wing. He squinted. “Was that… Sweetie Drops?” he asked.

“Maybe?” the mare said again, still somewhat stunned by the events of the night. Craziest closing shift ever. “I… never found her paperwork. And if she's supposed to be here…”

He grinned. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. It’s going to be a slow night for us, anyway.”

The mare was too busy examining the curls in her mane to realize just how out of place that line was.

Outside the jail and in a much safer alcove far away from public eye, Bon Bon finally got a chance to speak.

“What in the name of Celestia’s golden teats is going on?” she hissed as she dragged a hoof roughly through her mane to curl it back again.

“Oh, no, no, no, darling,” Photo Finish said, almost condescendingly, her exaggerated accent no longer present. “The princess’s teats are a smooth and healthy pink.” She nudged her with an elbow. “Trust me on this one.” She glanced back to the ponies behind her, and they nodded to confirm.

Bon Bon slammed a hoof into her face. “I’m not even going to ask,” she breathed through gritted teeth. “But I am going to ask what in Equestria happened back there.”

“We got you out of jail, of course,” Fleur smiled.

Bon Bon shook her head. “Oh, no. Uh-uh. No way. You turn around and put me right back in there. I’m not owing any vampony any other favors,” she pointed at Fleur, “because I already owe you one,” she turned towards Photo Finish, “and I’m not about to owe you any,” she faced the attendants, “and I’m certainly not about to owe your little vampy girls any, either.”

Violet Blurr and Pixel Pizzazz lifted their noses in the air and huffed in unison.

“Oh, Sweetie Drops, my price has already been paid,” Fleur grinned. “Furthermore, I have a solid alibi if any inquiry were to happen. I was at a lovely party all night with my loving stallion.” She cracked a smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a lovely party and a loving stallion that actually require my presence. Adieu.” She lit her horn and disappeared in a splash of light.

“Price paid?” Bon Bon asked, confused.

“I, Photo Finish, bore of zis conversation,” Photo Finish announced loudly, her loud accent back in place once more. “We go!”

And go they did in a burst of light and powder. Lyra coughed and waved a hoof in front of her nose.

Bon Bon looked over at Lyra. Her silent, desperate plea for explanation made Lyra shudder uncomfortably. Now that Bon Bon was here, Lyra realized just how stupid her actions had been.

And Bon Bon was about to find out exactly what they were. She leaned in. “What. Did you. Do?” she demanded.

She leaned back and lifted a hoof. “I kinda let Fleur feed on me?”

“You what?”

“I let her feed on me?”

“As in, you willingly gave her your blood?”

“…yes?” Lyra looked up, afraid that she had done something wrong.

But Bon Bon didn't look worried. Instead, she looked floored. Her mouth worked wordlessly before she finally could speak. “You did that? For me?”

Lyra nodded hesitantly.

Bon Bon rocked back and forth in place. She looked as though she didn’t know if she wanted to slap Lyra or herself, or maybe even both. “That’s dangerous!” she finally blurted.

“I know.”

“Seriously! If you’d tried that on any other vampony, you’d probably be dead right now! Hospitalized, at the very least!” She shook her head. “I can count on my hooves the number of vamponies that have that much control.”

“It was worth it!”

“Did you eat moldy hay? How could that be worth it?”

“Bon Bon…”

“What makes me worth you trying such a boneheaded, idiotic stunt like that? I mean, I know we’re best friends, but-”

“Maybe I want to be more than best friends!” Lyra blurted out. There! Finally! It had taken her two days and she'd been dragged halfway across Equestria to do it, but she'd done it! Her secret was finally out there!

This revelation surprised Bon Bon into silence. She licked her lips, looking for words. “Super best friends?” Bon Bon finally asked.

“No!”

“Super mega best friends?” Bon Bon tried.

“Maybe I want to date you!” Lyra almost howled.

Bon Bon nearly missed a step. “You what?”

“Remember when this all started? There in your sweets shop? I was so excited to see you because I'd decided that I wanted to ask you out on a real date! I got tickets to Countess Coloratura’s concert in Vanhoover next Friday and I wanted you to come with me! And then all this happened and I'm afraid I'll never get to ask you! That’s why I was willing to take the risk of trusting Fleur! Because I couldn’t face the risk of losing you!”

There was silence for a while; and then…

“Me?” Bon Bon asked quietly. For the first time on this whole adventure, Bon Bon seemed legitimately stunned. “You mean… you wanted to date me?”

“Yes!”

There was a lengthy pause.

Bon Bon bit her lower lip. “I'm cranky and have a weird sense of humor,” she protested weakly.

“But you're my best friend, and your heart is in the right place.” She chuckled nervously. “And you'll laugh at anything, even my worst jokes, like the piano down a mine shaft one.”

“That one’s funny, though,” Bon Bon protested weakly. “A flat miner. Black comedy at its finest.”

“Bon Bon, you can’t read music.”

“So?”

“So you don’t know a-flat minor is also a key signature.”

Bon Bon’s eyes flicked left. “Key to what?” she asked.

“Yeah, that’s what I mean.”

There was another pause.

“Still funny,” Bon Bon muttered. She sighed. “Alright, tell you what,” she said, her cheeks tinging red. “If we ever get out of this, and if our lives ever get back to normal, I'll take you up on that.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She smiled. “You know, I've always wanted to go to Vanhoover.”

Lyra squeed. Maybe this wasn’t so bad, after all.

Not-so-silent Night

Along the road far on the outskirts of town stood a rather nondescript motel. With slightly rundown walkways and paint peeling in the corners and baseboards, it was the perfect place where you could go and not have any questions asked about your identity or destination, where bits were the only thing that had any sway.

However, since that would be the first place anypony would look for two mares on the run, Bon Bon had sneaked them through the maintenance door into an empty room in a slightly more upscale hotel with a much nicer, bug-free bed.

And Bon Bon and Lyra were taking full advantage of that fact.

Lyra lay sprawled out, face buried in the pillow. “Oh, I’m never moving again,” she vowed.

“Well, you should, just enough to get under the covers,” Bon Bon said. “It’s an empty room, we can’t have lights on, and it’s probably going to be a bit chilly tonight.”

Lyra looked up at her. “Are we going to share the bed?”

Bon Bon smiled. “It’s going to be chilly,” she repeated.

Lyra rolled over and lit her horn-

“No lights!” Bon Bon hissed.

Lyra quickly extinguished her horn and lifted the blanket with her hooves. Now with the room lit only by the moonlight, she slid her body underneath it, and Bon Bon’s quickly followed.

“Whoa,” she breathed, sprawling out a bit more. “This is way nice.”

“Told you,” Lyra said.

When she could take a deep breath, Bon Bon spoke. “So when did you first start wanting to date me?”

Lyra chuckled. “Is that your training, too? Asking mares questions when they're… comfortable?”

Bon Bon chuckled dryly. “If I wanted to get you answering truthfully, I would have gone out at midnight, picked some leaves from the acacia tree and a couple other herbs you probably shouldn’t know about, and made you some tea. If we're going to do this, we need to trust each other.”

“I've been trusting you.”

“Yes, you have, Lyra. You've trusted me so much. And I’m sorry again that I haven’t trusted you.” Bon Bon exhaled and sat up so she could look in Lyra's eyes. “I've got a few more secrets, too.”

“Like what?”

Bon Bon looked down and drew small circles in the sheets with the tip of her hoof. “I've… wanted to be more than just friends for a while, too.”

Lyra’s heart jumped. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Bon Bon chuckled under her breath. “Tried to suppress it, though.”

“What?” Lyra sat up and shook her head. “Really?”

Bon Bon placed her face into a pillow. Realizing Lyra really did expect an answer, she nodded into the pillow.

Lyra pressed her hooves against her forehead, stunned. “I’ve been freaking out about this for months, debating and practicing in front of mirrors and trying to figure out the best way to bring this up… trying, failing, I've been having conversations with bales of hay to practice; and you felt the same way? Why didn’t you say anything?”

There was a long pause.

Bon Bon mumbled her answer into the pillow.

Lyra lifted an ear and leaned in. “Didn’t catch that,” she said.

“Scared,” Bon Bon repeated.

Lyra scoffed. “Scared? You aren’t scared of anything. You fought an ehowolf by yourself-”

“I knew him and he had it coming,” Bon Bon said staunchly.

“-and faced off against a vampony, and you were beating up everypony in jail, you did something to a lami-thingy that made her love you forever and offer to give you anything from her bakery any time you came back-”

That made Bon Bon’s ears prick. “Anything? Really?” she asked.

Lyra shrugged. “S’ what she told me.”

“Huh,” Bon Bon said thoughtfully. She shook her head. “I wasn’t scared of you saying yes. Or, actually, I was. It's dangerous, that’s why it’s scary. But not to me. Having somepony who can be used against me. To hurt me. To hurt you to hurt me. That’s what scares me.”

“I'm learning!” Lyra insisted, pushing herself up into a sitting position against the headboard. “I'll be a super secret special SEMHA agent in no time!”

Bon Bon chuckled. “Maybe. Maybe I'll even train you someday.” She shook her head, chuckling softly, but then her expression softened. “Honestly, I hoped I’d never have to use my skills again, leave them all in the past. If I do train you, I really hope you never have to use anything I teach you.”

Lyra nodded.

“It's not over yet, though.”

Lyra grinned deviously and rolled onto her back again in a perfect cuddling invitation.

Bon Bon blinked, and then a devious smile crossed her face. “I meant, we're still running from somepony who wants us dead and I’ll probably still have to use more of my skills; but since you asked so nicely…” She lay down, wrapped her arms around Lyra, and was asleep almost instantly.

Lyra exhaled, feeling Bon Bon’s warmth against her, and she was happier than she had been in a long time. She, too, drifted quickly off to sleep.

“Lyra,” Bon Bon whispered.

Lyra groaned. “What?”

“We’ve gotta go.”

“Whyyy?” Lyra groaned. “I’m so comfy…” She curled up, trying to look as small and inviting as possible for more cuddles.

“Because we’re not supposed to be in here, remember?” Bon Bon answered quietly. “Come on. Housekeeping will be here soon for the morning sweep. We’ve got to go.”

Bon Bon poked her head out into the hallway. When she decided it was clear, they sneaked out, walking quietly down the hall. Bon Bon turned and led her down a side hallway, leading her to the fire escape. She nudged the window open and, after glancing around, climbed out. “I’ll go first, come down on my signal.” She made her way down the metal ladder, disappearing from sight.

Lyra didn’t feel particularly comfortable about splitting up, even temporarily. She poked her head out, but lost sight of Bon Bon under all the metal. Thankfully, Bon Bon’s signal whistle quickly came up, and she climbed out and slowly, carefully climbed down.

Her hooves touched the ground and looked around. Then she spun in a circle. Something was very wrong. Bon Bon wasn’t here. “Bon Bon? Where did you-?”

Bon Bon’s eyes flickered open. She glanced around. She was laying on her face, it was dark, and it shouldn’t have been; it still should have been day. Her eyes narrowed. Something was wrong.

She looked around. She was in a dark dungeon, the only light coming from a flickering candle. The stone walls seemed imposing, impenetrable. And yet, the rings on the wall certainly weren’t regulation…

Oh, no.

She tried to shoot to her hooves, but found her hooves bound with ropes, and she fell with a thump on the ground. She rolled onto her back and scowled at the knots, then quickly worked them off her hooves. Once she was free, she started looking around. She was behind bars, but something wasn’t right.

Still, she had more important things to worry about. “Lyra?” she called.

There was a muffled moan to her side. She pressed her face up against the bars and saw Lyra, laying on the ground, behind her own set of bars. Her hooves were also bound, and a bright pink magic suppressor was on her horn. She groaned. “Bon Bon?”

“Lyra! Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Lyra answered groggily. “What happened? Am I wearing a magic suppressor?”

“Got blindsided by a bat pony dart.” Bon Bon scowled. “Rookie mistake. And yeah, you are.”

“It’s alright,” Lyra said as comfortingly as she could while still bound. “They’re night-time monsters and it was almost day. You weren't expecting it.”

“Ah, don’t let them hear you say that,” Bon Bon said with a ghost of a smile. “Bat ponies aren’t monsters. They’re a distinct tribe of ponies with their own magics. One of their secondary powers makes them almost invisible in the dark when they’re not moving.” She brightened as she caught sight of her saddlebags and watch, though they were between the two cages, against the wall, and far out of reach.

Lyra looked around. “What is this place?”

“It’s a ‘fun dungeon’,” Bon Bon grumbled, looking around. “Just… don’t touch any white spots on the ground. Or on the walls.” She cast a suspicious eye towards the ceiling. “Or anywhere else, for that matter.” She walked over and reached for her supplies, but her hoof wasn’t quite long enough. She grunted irritably. “Just don't touch anything and scrub your hooves like there's no tomorrow when we get out.”

“What’s the earth pony secondary power?” Lyra asked, trying to roll over but failing and so just somersaulting instead. She took this all in stride and looked through her mane at Bon Bon, who was now whipping her tail at her artifacts in an attempt to bring them closer. “Unicorns get the sense of magic and stuff like that, and pegasi do the cart thing, or something, right?”

“Yeah, sensing magical artifacts, places where there’s been a lot of magic, that kind of thing. Earth ponies spread fertility just by existing. Get enough earth ponies in one area and things will just start growing. It’s why Appleoosa and other towns like that work. And pegasi can kinda magnetize things with their flight magic.”

There was a creak, and Lyra jumped. She looked over at Bon Bon, and she was already back in the center of the cell, on the ground, ropes looped around her hooves again. She looked up and let out a groan.

It was the bat pony. He stepped forward, rested a hoof on the cage, and tsked. “Agent Sweetie Drops, you're a terrible actress,” he said.

“Alright, you got me,” Bon Bon admitted, lifting her hoof and letting the rope slide off. “I was trying to garner a little sympathy.”

He cracked a wry smile. “Sympathy doesn't go far when compared with the price tag on your heads.”

Bon Bon slowly stepped forward. “Well, some things… are worth more than bits can buy.” She dipped her head and looked up demurely. “I’m sure there’s… something I can help persuade you with.”

He chuckled dryly. “Wow. No, that won't work. Sorry, but you’re worth much more to me alive. Besides, you just don’t have what I want.

Bon Bon paused, peeked up one last time, and then grinned. “Oh, I know.” She straightened up and rolled her neck out. “Bat ponies have an astoundingly high rate of homosexuality.”

It was his turn to pause. The first inklings of ‘this could be a trap’ filtered through his mind.

“Really, it’s almost a miracle there are so many of you left.” She stretched her forelegs out. “Funny thing: you don’t actually have what I want, either.”

There was a click. His ears pricked up. That wasn't a good sound.

A smarmy grin spread across Bon Bon’s face. “I was just trying to distract you.”

He spun around. Lyra stood, breathless but triumphant, the magic suppressor ring now cracked at her hooves. She lit her horn, and the bat pony crouched, ready to flee or attack; but she didn't seem to be doing much. Almost as if she were using a simple levitation spell…

And then he heard the zip of a something metal on metal, and felt a garrote wrap around his neck. Holding the wire in her front hooves, Bon Bon placed her hind hooves against the bars and straightened her legs, pulling him backwards and quickly cutting off all his air. He struggled, legs kicking and wings flapping wildly, but Bon Bon had gotten it right the first attempt. Within seconds, he slumped, unconscious.

Lyra lifted the keys from his belt and levitated them over.

“You're actually not too bad at this.” Bon Bon grinned as she slid the right key into the lock and turned it. “Maybe I will train you after all.”

Lyra looked down at the bat pony. “What are we going to do with him? Put him in his own cells?”

“I don’t know,” Bon Bon said, pursing her lips. “That seems a bit unfair, and not much of a punishment. But he does seem to have a thing for ropes. And I can knot a knot quite well myself.”

“Cannot not what?” Lyra asked.

“Can knot a knot,” Bon Bon repeated, holding up a piece of rope.

“Cannot… what?” Lyra asked again, a bit more slowly this time.

Bon Bon giggled. “Just follow my lead.”

Caught Sleeping

Bon Bon and Lyra walked away from the house, leaving the bat pony trussed up and bound by all four limbs and his tail to the boards of the back porch, his face mere inches from the sun’s light… which would soon change to being in the full light as the sun continued rising.

Bon Bon’s devious smile faded as soon as she shut the gate behind her. As they walked, she looked around, almost paranoid. The birds were singing, but she still seemed nervous.

They made their way down into a nearby park. It was filled with ponies, which should have been good for blending in, but Bon Bon seemed to flinch at every loud noise.

Lyra lightly bumped her with her hips. “You ok?”

“I'm still trying to figure out how they're coordinating,” Bon Bon answered quietly. “There are too many coincidences. Ponies keep finding us, and it’s bothering me. Somepony knows exactly where we are, always.”

“Like, what, are ponies spying on us?” Lyra asked.

Bon Bon shook her head. “I would have noticed if somepony were trailing us. There's no way even the best spy…” Her voice trailed off. Her eyes widened as something occurred to her.

“What?” Lyra asked.

“No way the best spy…” Bon Bon began to spin in place, eyes flicking wildly around. “But if there were lots of tiny spies, ones that you wouldn't notice unless you were looking specifically for them,” she breathed, “that would be different.”

Lyra was still confused. “What, like breezies?” she guessed.

“No, animals. Ones that blend in. Ones that you don't think twice about seeing everywhere. Birds. Squirrels. Controlled by a-” Her eyes narrowed. “Narcoblix,” she hissed. She looked around again at the ponies.

And then what could only be called an evil smile crossed her lips as she caught sight of a pegasus pony quickly waking up on a nearby bench. The pegasus shook her head as if arising from a deep sleep, and tried to get up; but Bon Bon was faster.

She darted over and grabbed her in a side-hug. “Fancy seeing you here, Flitter Pollen,” Bon Bon said airily. “It's been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Sweetie Drops,” Flitter Pollen said nervously. Lyra could see sweat already starting to bead on her forehead. “Yeah, it- it has. H- how are you?”

Bon Bon quickly wrenched her foreleg around her shoulder, forcing Flitter Pollen’s foreleg into a chicken wing position and causing her to squawk in pain. “Oh, I’ve been better. We need to talk.”

“Talk? Oh, yes, sure, we can talk,” she said quickly. “How’s here? Here’s good, right? Nice and public-”

“No, no,” Bon Bon said cheerfully. “Some place more… private. How about an alley?” Still looking like she was holding a friend tightly, she half-walked, half-dragged Flitter Pollen along, with Lyra quickly following behind.

As soon as they were far enough down an alley to be completely out of sight. Bon Bon twisted her hips and threw Flitter down, letting her roll and crash against the wall. Lyra inhaled through her teeth. This was harsh, even for Bon Bon.

Bon Bon looked at her. “Save your sympathy. If you knew why she was on SEMHA’s radar…” She turned to the other pony and smiled. “So, Flitter Pollen,” Bon Bon started pleasantly. “Seems we’ve been having some issues with ponies trying to kill us.”

Her eyes darted between the two ponies. “I… I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

Bon Bon nodded. “Alright, well, good news, I believe you…”

Flitter Pollen screamed as Bon Bon drove a knife into her chest, burying it to the hilt.

“But my knife doesn’t,” she finished. “Which is a real shame.”

Lyra gasped. “Did you just…?”

“Nah. The -blixes are kinda like vamponies in that you need a wooden stake through the heart to actually kill them.” She crouched. “Nothing else is truly fatal. But a nice silver dagger in their body is pretty painful, don't you agree? Painful enough to disrupt your concentration, isn’t it? Can’t enter any trance now, can you, Flitter Pollen?” She grinned.

The narcoblix panted through gritted teeth and weakly shook her head.

“Shame. That means you’re stuck here with me. So why don't you make it easy on yourself. Tell me who you're working for, and I’ll pull it out,” Bon Bon said sweetly.

“She’ll kill me,” she breathed. “And she’ll make it slow… and painful.”

“And what makes you so sure I won’t?” Bon Bon asked quietly.

“You're Special Agent Sweetie Drops,” Flitter Pollen said, her breath ragged. “You don't do that kind of thing. Not even with me and my history.”

Bon Bon glanced over at Lyra, then looked down and sighed. “You're right,” she admitted. “I don't.”

Flitter Pollen looked slightly relieved. She kept going. “You… you’re different. You’re… the best agent. You keep monsters safe.”

Bon Bon brightened. “You’re right. I do.” She suddenly reared up and flipped the top of the dumpster, making Lyra recoil at the vile scent that emanated. Bon Bon unceremoniously picked the narcoblix up onto her hips, and with a quick buck, tossed her in. She slammed the lid shut. “You’ll be safe in there!” she called cheerfully, letting out a small chuckle at her own joke. She turned away. “If you need anything…” She lowered her voice, “don’t call,” she finished, and delivered a powerful back kick that rattled the whole dumpster. She glanced at Lyra and exhaled, a look of relief crossing her face.

“Was that… good?” Lyra asked.

“Yes and no. Yes because that just took out their spy network. Narcoblixes can't stand each other because only one can possess a given pony at one time; even if two different n-blies have bitten them, a stronger one can’t ‘kick out’ a weaker one. They don’t get along at all. There's no way they'd have more than one on the team. But no because that means whoever is chasing us has to act now, because they know where we are but once we're gone they know it'll be impossible to find us again.”

“What are they going to do?”

“It could be anything,” Bon Bon admitted. “And if it’s enough to rattle her…” She continued looking around. “We’ll have to run.”

A small pegasus colt scampered up, his red vest and little cap indicative of a local telegram service. Breathing hard, he reached into his little pouch and pulled out an envelope. “Telegram for a Miss… Sweaty Drops?”

Bon Bon scowled hard enough to make him flinch. “How did you know to find me?”

The sweat on his brow was suddenly from more than his quick run, now. “L- local delivery,” he stammered, licking his lips. “Just arrived at the office, she paid big bits for a quick delivery.”

“What did she look like?”

“I… I can’t remember.”

She snappily held out her hoof. He gave it to her and quickly scampered away, wings flapping, nearly losing his cap in the process.

Bon Bon looked around one last time, and then opened it.

Lyra peeked over her shoulder. “What is that?”

“An address,” Bon Bon answered grimly.

Looks like this was going to come to an end, one way or another.

Everypony Loves Fire

Lyra looked up at the dilapidated warehouse and bit her lower lip. “Is this it?”

“This is it,” Bon Bon confirmed.

“Looks… inviting,” Lyra said. “You know, if I were a rat.”

Bon Bon cracked a smile. “Follow me and stay close.”

They walked through the warehouse. It was old and abandoned, and crates and shipping containers were stacked haphazardly around. Some had been opened roughly, their contents raided. Others were open, broken, or decaying from water damage, courtesy of the broken skylights. Sunlight peeked in through holes in the walls and ceiling, and dust covered all of the ground that wasn’t already a puddle, along with broken pallets and discarded packing materials.

Lyra glanced around as they walked. It was a time of reckoning. This felt like it had been going on for weeks, though it really hadn’t even been one. Finally, they’d find out who was behind this whole thing. And maybe it could all end, and they could go back to Ponyville, but as better-than-best-friends.

“I don’t like how deep we’re going,” Bon Bon muttered, jerking Lyra back into the present. She cast a nervous glance up at the ceiling. She was clearly planning out escape routes in her head, but the deeper they went, the more nervous she became.

And then, as they reached the heart of the warehouse, a mare’s voice rang out from the rafters. “Fillies and gentlecolts!”

Lyra jumped. Bon Bon quickly dropped into a defensive stance, eyes flicking upwards.

“Finally, the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” the voice continued. “Truths uncovered, secrets revealed! Who could it be? Who could possibly hate SEMHA so much that they’d be willing to pick off the star team, one by one? Who in Equestria could it be?”

“Show yourself,” Bon Bon ordered.

“Gladly.” A shadow swooped over the nearest skylight and landed on a nearby crate with a crunch. It was a goldenrod pegasus wearing an open vest and a bandanna tied tightly over one eye. “Surprise,” she whispered.

Bon Bon’s eyes narrowed, and then widened, and she took a tiny step back. She knew this mare! “S- Sparky?” she stammered, squinting as she tried to disprove what she already knew.

“Oh, you do remember me!” Sparky said, her smile too wide and obviously not real. She clapped her hooves together. “Special Agent Sweetie Drops remembers me! Oh, how special I feel! Do you remember my real name, too?”

Bon Bon shook her head in disbelief. “G- Golden Thunder, of course; b- but how…?”

Golden jumped off the crate and started pacing. She shook her head slightly, as if expecting her to catch on to a joke only she knew. “Oh, yes. You didn’t expect to see me again. You abandoned me, remember?” Her smile turned furious, her voice turned harsh and angry, and her wings flared. “Left me to die out in the desert? Any of that ringing any bells?”

“You were bitten by a basilisk!” Bon Bon protested. “There’s no cure for that venom, not even-!”

“No, but I survived!” Golden jabbed a hoof into her chest. “I survived! Me! I did! But nopony even cared! Nopony even came back to look for me!”

“There is a one in twelve thousand chance of surviving a basilisk bite, and we had no choice! We had to kill that snake before it reached Los Pegasus and then dispose of the corpse before the Benchmark could steal the blood!”

“You always have a choice!” Sparky spat. “That was when I realized that SEMHA didn’t care about us, about their agents! We were expendable!”

“We were doing our duty to protect the ponies of Equestria!” Bon Bon spat right back. “Being willing to sacrifice our lives for other ponies was kindof a big requirement to join! You knew that when you enlisted!”

“I never realized that meant being on a team that threw away each other's lives! Even the Wonderbolts treated me better! And the worst part? Nopony in Equestria knew! I would have died a nopony! Forgotten!”

Bon Bon sputtered. “What part of ‘sec-’?! We were doing our-! You know what? Never mind! You're insane!”

She took a small step back and giggled. “Good thing I am, too,” she said. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be doing this.” She held up a small detonator. With a manic grin, she pushed the button.

An explosion shook the edges of the warehouse. It was quickly followed by another one, this one closer, and another, this one even closer. Thick smoke started swirling as the fires they caused spread, finding plenty of fuel among the abandoned warehouse. Lyra’s ears pinned.

Golden Thunder let out a maniacal laugh and flew out, crashing through the skylight and sending glass shards raining down on top of them. Lyra instinctively raised a hoof to shield herself.

Bon Bon was already moving. “Come on! Stay low!” she shouted, grabbing Lyra’s hoof and dragging her away.

Lyra had no idea where she was going, but Bon Bon seemingly remembered the way. She pulled her around crates and through puddles in their rush to escape.

Part of the ceiling crashed down, on fire and burning brightly, and Lyra let out a shriek as embers flew into the air. Bon Bon adjusted her direction and kept running, pulling Lyra along beside her. The smoke grew thicker, and Lyra choked.

But Bon Bon was implacable. She charged through debris and clouds of dust and smoke, and after what felt like an eternity of darkness, burst outside. Lyra gasped and slowed, relieved to be outside and blinded by the sun.

Bon Bon, however, wasn’t having that. “We’ve got to keep moving!” she urged, dragging Lyra onward.

They continued running across the yard until finally, Bon Bon pulled Lyra behind another warehouse, this one with a long overhang to shield the delivery carts from the sun that would also shield them from above. Just in time, too; they heard the sound of fire bells ringing, and pegasus ponies flying through the air, pushing clouds over.

But try as they might, the flames were just too big and too spread out, and so they quickly switched their tactics to containing the flames from spreading further, using the clouds to wet down the surrounding warehouses.

Bon Bon hesitated, then wrapped a foreleg tightly around Lyra. Lyra leaned against her, and together, the two watched the warehouse burn.

As the flames burned, Bon Bon chuckled, a dissonant sound compared to the destruction happening nearby. “We did good,” she said, sounding oddly relieved. “That was sloppy.”

“Really? It looked pretty well-done to me,” Lyra squeaked as one of the walls collapsed, sending a burst of flames erupting into the air.

“You don’t know Sparky like I do. This was fast and makeshift. Nothing like her best work.” She held out her hoof for a restrained but satisfied bump. “We did it. We surprised her. She was not expecting this.”

Lyra gave her a weak smile. “Yay, us,” she said, returning it. “But now what?”

“Now, we stop her. She’s been trying to kill us,” Bon Bon said wryly. “There’s no way she’s stopping now, not after we know who she is.”

“She’s just so… angry,” Lyra said. Something Golden Thunder had said made her pause. “Did you really not go back for her?”

“She wasn’t the only one on our team who got bitten by a basilisk,” Bon Bon said quietly. “Every single time, it was fatal. And the one that bit her was old, and huge. They never stop growing, you know. We did go back afterwards, but we never found her body.” She snorted. “Guess we now know why.”

“So she waited all this time just for revenge?”

“I mean, I guess?” Bon Bon said hesitantly. “She’s crazy. She said so herself. Which is a problem, because I’m not, so I don’t know what she’s going to do next, or even why she decided she needed to cross off her old teammates.”

Lyra paused as another thought occurred to her. “You don’t think she’s going to try and get revenge on all of Equestria, too, do you?” she asked. “Like, she started with her team, and then she’s moving on to everypony else?”

“By what? Unleashing another basilisk on the world?” Bon Bon chuckled darkly. “No. She wouldn’t be that crazy.” She paused, and horror dawned in her eyes. “Actually, she just might be.”

Gear Up

Bon Bon entered the animal shop and glanced around, as if a bit confused. She wandered briefly, then trotted up to the counter, where a mare with a long, messy mane stood cleaning a water bowl, with a mouse perched on her shoulder. “Well, hey, there,” she said, donning a big city accent. “Just moved here, and my neighbors are all raising chickens, you know, for their eggs and since they can eat kitchen scraps and such. Never really dealt with them before. Can you hook me up with, like, chickening 101?”

“You really must be new in town,” the mare sighed sadly, setting the bowl down. “Normally, I’d tell you about our free-range farm, but there was a fire, a couple days ago.” She picked up the mouse and nuzzled him gently. “There were…” she paused and suppressed a sob, “no survivors.”

“A f-… a fire?” Bon Bon said, her accent slipping a bit in her shock. She quickly recovered and placed a hoof on her chest. “Celestia’s teats! Hope they caught whoever started it.”

“Wasn’t anypony’s fault,” she said sadly, setting the mouse back up on her shoulder. “They did an investigation, and it turned out to be an accident. They said the chickens must’ve bumped an old heating element, and it just… caught fire and it spread.”

“Yeah. Tragic,” Bon Bon said, doing her best to show some empathy. “That’s terrible. Anyplace else I can look?”

She shook her head wryly. “That farm supplied almost all of the stores in town. The waiting list for any chicken is a few paces long, now.”

“Well, tits,” Bon Bon swore again. “Uh, thanks anyway, though.” She turned and left the store, and quickly headed into the alleyway where Lyra was waiting.

Try as she might, she couldn’t escape the reality. “She’s doing it,” she moaned under her breath. “She’s making another one.”

“She’s what? You can just make a basilisk?!” Lyra asked, shocked. Again, there was just so much in this world she didn’t know!

“Basilisk,” Bon Bon started, as if reciting from a dictionary. “Large snakes born by hatching a chicken egg under a toad. Venomous, class five—death almost certain upon bite. Basilisk venom is particularly nasty stuff. If it gets your bloodstream, it'll kill you in minutes, and it burns the whole time. It's very acidic, like their blood. If it gets sprayed on your skin, it burns like fire and it'll most likely kill you if too much hits anything sensitive like your underbelly or any mucus membranes.”

“There was nothing comforting about that,” Lyra said quietly.

“There are a few ways to kill a basilisk,” Bon Bon continued. “One’s a rooster’s crow. Somehow its frequency is just right and something resonates in its brain and something snaps and it bleeds out. The other is mirrors, turning its own power against it. We developed mirrored, polarized sunglasses as protection, but they’re not foolproof.”

“Few usually means three,” Lyra said, half joking, half hopeful.

Bon Bon cracked a wry smile. “The third way is the old fashioned way: hit it with sharp things until it stops moving.”

Lyra gulped. Plan F again. “I see.”

Oh. Maybe that's what the ‘F’ stood for. Fashioned.

Bon Bon gestured with her head. “Come on. We need to gear up before we can fight. We’ll need mirrored sunglasses and a hoe, maybe a shovel.”

“Where do you get those, anyway?”

“SEMHA hideouts. We stash them everywhere. Probably pick up some other stuff on the way.”

“I thought you said we couldn’t go to those,” Lyra said.

“We couldn’t, when we didn’t know who was chasing us. But now we do. And we know she knows where they are, too. So we have to get there first, before she does.” Bon Bon grinned wryly. “Hope you like running!”

“Nothing,” Lyra said, pulling out and dumping out the drawer. “They’ve all been smashed.”

Bon Bon swore under her breath. “Horseapples. This is the third place we've tried and nothing.”

“Is there a fourth?” Lyra asked. Part of her was hoping Bon Bon would say ‘no’. They’d been running for a while now, and they weren’t even in the main part of the city anymore.

Bon Bon shook her head, and then paused. “Actually, yes. There’s a back room at a motel nearby we sometimes used. I’d almost forgotten. It might be ransacked by now, but it’s worth a try. If I forgot, maybe Sparky did, too.”

Lyra put on a forced smile. “Lead the way.”

Lyra glanced around. This wasn’t a great motel. With slightly rundown walkways and paint peeling in the corners and baseboards, it looked like it was the perfect place where you could go and not have any questions asked about your identity or destination.

Bon Bon trotted like she did at the casino, eyes forward, ears up, ignoring everything else. Then she suddenly stepped aside and held a foreleg out, stopping Lyra short.

Lyra stopped, too. If she listened closely, she could hear the sound of glass shattering.

“Well, well, looks like we’re just in time,” Bon Bon whispered. She ushered Lyra underneath a nearby stairwell, in the shadows. “Stay here.” She strode forward.

Lyra listened. She could hear more drawers opening and other things breaking. A few whispered voices, was that Bon Bon? Had she been caught?

And then Bon Bon emerged, strolling nonchalantly. She ducked into the alcove and backed against the wall.

“Did you find any?” Lyra asked eagerly.

In answer, Bon Bon held out two pairs of sunglasses.

“Did you really just waltz in there and take the sunglasses?” Lyra asked incredulously.

“Sure did. Remember, if you look like you know what you're doing, most ponies won't bat an eye.”

“Nice,” Lyra said, sliding the sunglasses on the top of her head. “Now what? Where do basilisks hide?”

“My best guess is Golden Thunder’s actual hideout. It's a powerful weapon, but basilisks are mean as they get. It'd turn on her without a second thought. She'll keep it close, so it can't be used against her.”

“But we don't know where she is.”

“No, we don't,” Bon Bon conceded. “But these guys did not look professional. Most likely hired help. And if they’re hired, they won’t get paid until the job’s done. Which means…”

“When they go back to get paid, they’ll lead us right back to Sparky’s new base,” Lyra realized. “And from there, we can follow her to the basilisk.”

Bon Bon nodded proudly. “You would have made a good agent.”

Dangerous Warehouses

Lyra and Bon Bon, both wearing their sunglasses, meandered along, carrying a few gardening tools Bon Bon had ‘borrowed’ from the hotel shed over their shoulders as a disguise. They followed them from a safe distance, a fairly easy feat as they were loud and seemingly not paying attention to anything else.

After what felt like much longer than it probably was, they arrived at yet another set of old warehouses. They watched from the shadows as the ponies entered a dilapidated old factory, with a faded, hoof-painted sign that read ‘King Chemicals’ peeling off a nearby wall.

“What is it with old, run-down buildings?” Lyra asked, adjusting her sunglasses.

“Security,” Bon Bon answered. “I mean, would you go in there, intentionally?”

“Not without you,” Lyra answered cheekily.

Bon Bon cracked a smile. “That's the right answer.”

Lyra made to put her tools down, but Bon Bon stopped her. “We’re holding on to these,” she said. “These hoes are our best bet.” She spun hers around her hoof. “They’ve got length and a sharp end: push, pull, and decapitate. Here, try this.” She showed Lyra a couple moves to try, and she did her best to copy Bon Bon.

They stayed, watching for a while, but Lyra couldn’t see any signs of movement or hear anything from the inside.

Apparently, Bon Bon couldn't, either, and this unsettled her. “It's too quiet,” Bon Bon mused. “They should have left by now, they only came to get paid, right?”

“Maybe there's a secret exit? Or something around back?” Lyra suggested.

“Maybe. But we’ve been here too long. The longer we sit in one spot, the more likely it is we'll get caught.” She picked up her hoe and adjusted her sunglasses again. “Let's check it out.”

They crept forward, and Bon Bon silently slid open the door. The smell of dust and various acrid chemicals hit them like a truck.

Lyra’s eyes adjusted to the low light, and she gasped.

Ponies lay on the ground, limbs splayed out, eyes wide in horror, frozen in death.

“The basilisk,” Bon Bon hissed, prodding one with the butt of her hoe. “That venom is fast. Stay sharp. If it's around…” She didn't need to finish the sentence.

They continued exploring, avoiding puddles of rank chemicals, dried paint, and other ancient spills. This had been her hideout, they found a few takeout trays and other signs of life.

And then Lyra froze. Off to the side, in an abandoned office, there was a darkened glass terrarium, with what looked like a small snake inside. She got Bon Bon’s attention. “Is that it?” Lyra whispered.

“Looks like,” Bon Bon said grimly.

“It's little,” Lyra observed.

“It's young. That’s good, easier to kill. These guys don’t ever stop growing. Keep your glasses on. It’s probably too small to kill you just yet, but I don’t need you passing out or anything.”

They neared, slowly, carefully, but the snake still lay on its back, unmoving. As they came around and could get a better look, it became obvious why.

“It’s… it’s dead,” Bon Bon said, confused, lowering her weapon.

Lyra let out a small, relieved giggle. “Well, that was a little anticlimactic,” she said.

“Yeah,” Bon Bon chuckled weakly. “It was probably an accident. Maybe she was keeping a rooster nearby as a failsafe and it got too close.” She crouched, examining it closer. She reached up with her pole and lifted the lid. Her ears pricked. “No. Look,” she said slowly. “This box is mirrored on the inside, one-way glass. This was intentional. She killed it.”

“Why would she kill the basilisk?” Lyra asked. “I thought she was going to use it as a weapon.”

“I’m not sure,” Bon Bon said, also at a loss as to what her motive could be. “Maybe she just wanted to extract the venom? That’s nasty stuff. Keeps its potency, gets noticeably stronger over time. Not many poisons do that.” She gritted her teeth. “Kept long enough, I bet it could even affect an alicorn.” She paused as something occurred to her. “But a snake this young can’t possibly have reached full potency yet.” Her eyes flicked back to where the ponies at the entrance were. “And even if it had, it's small enough that you're not going to get much out of it.” She shook her head. “Something’s not right here.”

Lyra frowned. “If she’s patient enough to wait this long for revenge, she’d be patient enough to wait a little longer for it to grow, right?”

“You’d think so,” Bon Bon murmured. “And if you kill the snake, you're not getting any more venom anytime soon. Insane or not, I just can't see her using something that precious that flippantly.”

“Maybe she's got more,” Lyra whispered, horrified.

“Not likely. Basilisks hate each other. They actively seek out and kill other snakes, that’s how we could tell when one was around. And babysitting the toad into sitting on the egg is practically a full-time job.”

As they were talking, the door opened again, much louder than before. It sounded like many ponies coming into the warehouse.

Bon Bon poked her head out. She looked away from the voices resignedly, as there was only a cinderblock wall there. “We’re not gonna get through that,” she said softly.

“Fight our way out?” Lyra asked nervously.

“Let’s try talking our way out first,” Bon Bon said, surreptitiously shrugging off her saddlebags. “But just in case it does come to that, we’ll need more room to maneuver. Come on. Let’s go.”

They slowly walked out, and came face to face with a sizable group of ponies. None looked particularly friendly. In fact, they looked unfriendly. And none seemed to be too concerned with the ponies laying on the ground.

Lyra gulped.

“There they are,” a stallion said. “Just like she said.”

“Just like who said?” Bon Bon asked, her hackles raised.

“Yellow mare, bandana on one eye. Said you two were paying big bits to go tear down an old shack.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. She scammed you.”

His eyes narrowed. “She said it was your job. ‘There’ll be two mares,’ she said. ‘They'll pay you’.”

Lyra’s heart stopped. It had been a setup!

Bon Bon had realized this, too, but she maintained her calm. “She lied,” she said coolly. “Take it up with her.”

The gathered ponies muttered angrily. Bats, chains, and knives started appearing. Lyra’s ears pinned.

“I think you're just trying to weasel out of paying us.” He swung the baseball bat off his shoulder and pointed it threateningly at her. “Cough up.”

“Buzz off,” Bon Bon returned, shifting her weight and raising the end of her hoe. The time for words was done. It was going to be a fight, and everypony here knew it.

Lyra hefted her pole in her magic, her heart racing. This would only be her second fight, and she’d barely done anything in her first.

Perhaps he sensed her inexperience. Maybe he wanted to take out the weakest link first. Either way, he swung his bat, and Lyra couldn’t stop it in time.

There was a sickening crunch. Her magic fizzled, and the hoe fell to the floor.

Bon Bon had struck before Lyra had hit the ground. She spun and lashed out with her powerful hind legs, and the impact threw his head back with an audible ‘crack!’. He did a flip through the air, hit the ground with a meaty thud, and did not move again.

But she had only gotten started. With an overhead swing, she broke her hoe over another pony’s head, dropping them like a rock. She flipped it around and stabbed another pony with the jagged end. Ignoring the cry of pain, she twisted it quickly and then yanked it out, just in time to drive the butt into another pony’s jaw. Standing over Lyra protectively, she swung her broken pole like a club and knocked out a tooth from another pony, she kicked out with a foreleg and broke a different pony’s collarbone.

Those with shorter melee weapons backed up as pony with longer reaches tried their luck.

Bon Bon needed a larger weapon. She let the first swing of a chain wrap around the pole, then she yanked it forward, dragging the other pony forward and delivered a punishing headbutt. She dropped her broken staff, scooped up Lyra’s hoe, and it began again, now with a spinning wave of pain with a reach longer than most other weapons and a devastating sharp end on one side. Nopony was safe from her wrath. Nopony was safe at all.

Nopony but Lyra.

At Bon Bon’s firm touch, Lyra’s eyes fluttered open. She looked up and saw Bon Bon, blood splattered on her chest, eyes wide, nostrils flaring, chest heaving.

“Bon Bon?” Lyra started, her eyes unfocused. “Wha-?”

“Don’t move, don’t move,” Bon Bon urged. She bent down and scooped her up. “You’ve had a pretty bad head injury. I have to get you to the hospital.”

“I’m…” Lyra started, only to whimper in pain. “My head hurts,” she moaned.

“You’ll be fine, Lyra,” Bon Bon said. “I promise. I've got you. I've got you.”

Remember Your Training

Bon Bon couldn't remember the last time she'd run so hard. This was her best friend, and she'd been hurt, and there was a tiny part of her that feared the worst.

They said this would happen, a little voice in her head said. Ponies close to you get hurt. This is why they said to not get attached.

She's going to be fine, Bon Bon thought.

But will you?

Honestly?

No. She suddenly realized that she hadn't been watching her back, wasn't clearing her corners, wasn't doubling back to hide her steps, nothing. She was charging blindly ahead, like a rookie. She was being sloppy.

And then a part of her realized that she didn't care. Lyra just meant that much to her. And nothing else really mattered at all.

The nearest hospital came into view. She didn't have any connections here, but right now that didn't matter. She burst through the door into triage. “We need help!” she called.

The triage pony came rushing over. “Looks like a bad head trauma,” she said, quickly applying pressure.

“Yeah, we were running, she was looking over her shoulder and wasn't watching, and bam, right into a metal post. Clocked her good. She’s been out of it and in pain since.”

The nurse whistled sharply, and more nurses came, pushing a gurney. She turned back to Lyra and began pulling gauze pads out of her pockets. “Is all this blood hers?” she asked, concerned.

“It's not mine,” Bon Bon said truthfully, “but I've heard head wounds bleed a lot.”

“Mm-hm,” she agreed as she helped get Lyra on. “We'll take care of her. What’s her name, and what’s your relationship with her?”

“She's Lyra and she’s… she's my girlfriend.”

Lyra looked up. She smiled blearily at her and made like she was going to say something before one of the nurses gently pushed her head back down.

Bon Bon nodded. It had felt right to say, but that's all she could do. She had to stay, watching helplessly as they took her back.

Bon Bon took a steadying breath. She wanted to be there the instant she woke up, yes. But she had something else important to do.

She paused long enough to get a quick drink of water, then walked towards the door of the hospital and stepped outside. She slowed to a stop. Her ears pricked as she sensed somepony watching her, and she knew exactly who it was. “Sparky,” she said quietly.

“Sweetie Drops,” Golden Thunder returned just as quietly.

Bon Bon turned around to see Golden Thunder, leaning nonchalantly against the wall of the hospital, still wearing the bandanna over one eye. “You've been watching us,” Bon Bon said. It wasn’t an accusation, more a statement of fact.

“Yes, I have. You always were observant.”

“How did you find-?” Bon Bon stopped and let out a low, growling sigh. “You never left the warehouse.”

“No, I didn't.” She wiggled the tips of her wings. “I was watching from the rafters. I suppose I should thank you for clearing up that little payment dispute.” She tittered as she pushed herself off the wall and stood straight, but she still remained a fair distance away. “I have to say, I was impressed with how well you handled yourself. I guess I shouldn’t have expected any less from somepony who got agent of the month four months running. SEMHA stooge,” she added angrily.

“Flatter me all you want, Sparky, you’re still dead,” Bon Bon said angrily through gritted teeth. “Your little stunt got my girlfriend hurt.”

“Girlfriend?” Golden Thunder asked, surprised. She nodded appreciatively. “Well, well. You do have a heart. Not that I got to see any of it, you know, what with you abandoning me and all.”

Bon Bon gave her a stony glare, her lips curling dangerously, but she remained in control.

“I never took you for the romantic type,” she continued blithely. “I always figured you'd be married to your job.” Her voice hardened. “Face down, tail up, taking the SEMHA propaganda to the hilt…”

“Agent or not, my ‘job’ is taking care of monsters, and right now, that means putting you four paces under.”

Golden Thunder grinned. “You're fired,” she hissed. “And there's no severance package. But if it's any consolation, I promise I'll kill your girlfriend quickly. Once I'm done with you, anyway.” She removed her bandanna and tossed it aside, revealing a slitted pupil; and a forked tongue flickered out of her mouth. “Come and get it, Sweetie Drops.”

Bon Bon’s eyes widened in horror and her ears pinned. She took a tiny step back. “Sweet Celestia,” she swore under her breath. So that was why. Oh dear Celestia, that was why! Golden Thunder had bred another basilisk, but not for use as a threat, weapon, or source of venom.

As a template!

Memories of ancient zebra potions used to take on elements of animals swirled in her mind. Potions only spoken of in whispers and only in dark places, with untested side-effects and transformations that couldn’t be reversed, dangerous last-ditch options for the truly desperate or indelible evil, turning ponies into something else entirely. “Sparky, that’s…”

“Crazy? Oh, I know. Forbidden?” She smiled, exposing sharp, curved fangs. “I know. Dangerous?” She spat venom, and Bon Bon just barely managed to dodge it as it splattered against the ground. It sizzled angrily, eating into the ground mere inches from Bon Bon’s hoof. “Just for you, and everypony else that abandoned me, and then, the rest of Equestria, all the way up to Princess Celestia herself.” She thought about it for a moment, and then she grinned. “So yeah. Very dangerous.”

“You’re insane,” Bon Bon whispered, her tail flicking.

“I’m the future,” Golden corrected serenely.

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Bon Bon protested.

“Doesn't it? I'm the future… because you're history!” She spat again, her aim even closer this time. It hit a pillar and started eating away at the concrete.

Bon Bon turned and fled. She jumped over the hedge wall, slid down the hill, and took off down the street. She heard wingbeats behind her and grit her teeth. Even as a basilisk halfkin, she was still pony enough to be able to fly.

One of the hardest things to do for an agent is running away from an enemy in public. Bon Bon needed to keep her close, not letting her catch up, but she also couldn’t disappear. That might scare her enough to take a deadly risk with all the civilians around, or worse, make her double back to the hospital where Lyra was.

To put it lightly, this was not ideal. And there was only solution she could think of.

She’d have to kill her here, in public, and somehow make it look like an accident.

Alright, it wasn't like she hadn't had impossible missions before. She scanned her surroundings for anything she could use, but nothing stood out. Ponies walked around, most moving aside to let her pass. Nothing was coming to mind, and there were a lot of civilians.

And it sounded like Sparky was getting closer.

Desperate for anything, Bon Bon jumped up and hit a hanging wooden sign. It swung up, then swung back.

And a cheerful jackalope holding a mug of cider in an outstretched paw slammed right into Golden Thunder’s nose, bringing her to a sudden and painful stop. Blood splattered across it and she let out an enraged cry as she fell to the ground.

Bon Bon spun around, prepared to fire off a one-liner about needing to look both ways, but a soft hissing made her look up. The splattered blood was quickly eating away at the wooden sign, bubbling maliciously. Her blood had turned acidic.

Just like a basilisk’s.

Bon Bon quickly doubled back and ran the other way. Golden Thunder growled and quickly followed.

Thankfully, her intended destination wasn't that far. At the last moment, she darted over across the street to the storm drain and slid under the grate.

Sparky followed, tucking her wings in and spiraling through the space between the bars. She landed on the wet cement. She looked around, her eye adjusting to the darkness, but there was no sign of Sweetie Drops. She glanced up, but the ceiling was too low for flight. Her ears swiveled, ready to pick up any sound of movement over the rushing water. “Trying to hide, Sweetie Drops?” she taunted.

Silence reigned through the cold air.

Behind one of the various passageways, Bon Bon waited, breathing as slowly and quietly as she could (holding your breath just made the breath that was finally taken that much louder). She looked down, scanning for anything she could use. Her eyes landed on a few pieces of rubble, broken off the walls from age. Perfect.

She scooped up the largest piece and lobbed it out. It flew in a perfect arc, bouncing off the wall and coming to a stop quickly, sounding just like a step.

“Not good enough,” Sparky said quietly. “Come on, Sweetie Drops. You can do better than that.” She took a few steps forward, ears still pricked.

Bon Bon scowled, but knew it had been a long shot. No matter. She could still work with this. She moved backwards as silently as she could, trying to put a little more distance between them.

Sparky walked slowly, clearing her corners, ears constantly swiveling to hear anything over the moving water. She guessed correctly which corridor Bon Bon had chosen and started walking.

Thankfully, Bon Bon had already changed tactics.

Sparky wandered down the corridor, slowly, deliberately. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she sang.

From her position up on an access ladder, Bon Bon gently tossed another rock. It clattered against the ground and dropped with a small splash into the rushing water.

Sparky grinned deviously and turned, not towards the rock, but towards Bon Bon, her pony eye closed tight.

It hadn’t been a guess! Sparky was toying with her!

“Nice try, Sweetie Drops,” she said, her voice heavy with gleeful anticipation.

“You were tracking me?” Bon Bon asked.

“I can see heat signatures now, and down here, you show up like a Hearth’s Warming Eve tree.”

“Oh, yeah? Did you see... this?” Bon Bon flung the last piece of concrete she'd been holding.

The cold concrete that wouldn’t have shown up on infrared.

The two mares were close enough together and it was dark enough that Sparky couldn't react in time, and she let out a cry of pain as Bon Bon scored a direct hit to her already-injured muzzle. Taking advantage of this moment of confusion, Bon Bon leaped off the ladder, landed lightly, and called “Happy Hearth’s Warming!” over her shoulder as she sprinted away.

Growling with rage, Sparky brushed the rock pieces off her face and charged after her. “You’re as good as crossed off, Sweetie Drops!” she shouted. “You can run, but you c- can’t hide.”

“I wh- what, now?” Bon Bon taunted.

Golden Thunder scowled and spat venom. It sailed over Bon Bon’s head and hit the wall, sizzling angrily.

Bon Bon turned and ran deeper into the underground. Golden Thunder zipped up her vest against the cold and followed.

The waterworks of Canterlot being abnormally spacious was an open secret. As they ran, they passed by abandoned fire pits, with trash and half-filled bottles of fire-starting materials left over from clandestine teenage parties. Bon Bon couldn't help but snort as she smelled a whiff of something familiar. Amateurs, needing kerosene to start a fire.

She made a sharp right turn, and though Golden Thunder tried to follow, she couldn’t make the turn fast enough, and ran into the wall.

Just as Bon Bon had planned.

“Reaction time slowing down a bit, eh?” Bon Bon taunted. “Always knew you were a cold-blooded-”

But being cold did not limit Golden’s ability to spit venom, and Bon Bon was forced to dodge to the side again. She accidentally rammed her shoulder into another of the metal ladders lining the wall and cried out in pain. As she bounced off, a deep note thrummed through the air.

Golden Thunder grit her teeth and flinched, shaking her head.

Bon Bon's eyes widened. That's right! Snakes can't hear; they feel vibrations! She continued running, but adjusted her running style, letting her hooves hit the ground hard instead of tapping lightly. It was more tiring, but the irritated grunts she heard behind her let her know it was working.

She scanned the ground, looking for anything she could use to make more noise. She spotted an old abandoned wrench on the ground, with one tooth broken and the body rusted, and she scooped it up. She whacked it against another metal ladder as she ran by, and a resounding clang rang through the air, sharper and clearer.

Golden Thunder let out a hiss of pain. Bon Bon grinned deviously. Sounded like success to her. She kept running, trying to look into the corridors as she ran past. One of these had to… there!

She rushed down a more open part of the sewers, and landed in the middle of the canal, splashing through the water.
This muffled the sound of her hooves, negating her previous advantage. Golden Thunder sped up, clearly determined to end this quickly.

And Bon Bon skidded to a stop in front of a large, metal grate that blocked off a steep dropoff. Water flowed through unhindered, but it blocked the whole corridor, and the holes were far too small for a pony to fit.

Golden Thunder smirked triumphantly, but her glee at Sweetie Drops having trapped herself turned to dawning horror as she realized exactly what she was planning.

Bon Bon faced the grate and began banging the wrench against it like she was singlehoofedly responsible for doing all the cheering for a local buckball team. The noise echoed off the stone walls as Golden Thunder writhed in pain, crying out, hooves clamped over her ears but the vibrations kept piercing through, trying to flee but too disoriented by the cacophony to know which way to go-

And then the rusted wrench snapped in half.

The high-pitched ping from the broken piece ricocheting down the corridor made Golden Thunder look up.

Bon Bon hissed angrily under her breath, then launched herself at Golden Thunder, holding the broken wrench out as a weapon, intending to shank her.

But Golden Thunder deflected it with her hoof. She spat venom, and though Bon Bon barely managed to duck out of the way, it landed in her mane, and the awful smell of burning hair filled the air. She spun, trying to disorient her by whipping her mane in her face, and kept that momentum to perform a spinning kick that would have rocked Golden’s world.

Had it landed, anyway. Even though she was slowed and shivering with the cold, Golden Thunder had received the same training. She sidestepped the kick by the narrowest of margins and drove her front hoof into Bon Bon’s cutie mark.

Bon Bon cried out as she fell, and the broken wrench splashed down somewhere else. She pushed herself to her hooves and skittered around, favoring that leg for a brief moment as she circled, looking for an opening.

Golden Thunder circled, too. Her eyes flicked up, but thankfully, the ceiling here was still too low for proper flight. They'd have to fight in the water. She spat venom again and charged, clearly intent on finishing this fight fast.

Bon Bon ducked her head to dodge, and hissed in pain as a few splatters of venom she wasn't able to dodge hit her cheek. Golden Thunder rammed her with her shoulder, driving them back towards the grate. Bon Bon jabbed her elbow into the side of her head, briefly stunning her, then scrambled free. She quickly lashed out with her hind legs, slamming Golden’s head against the grate. She got up, leaving smears of blood behind on the metal.

“Yeah,” Bon Bon observed, as if fondly reminiscing instead of fighting for her life. “Remember how Feather Flip would always get bloody noses when it was cold? And that one time she got that reaction from that vampony in the street and Nilla had to step in and basically foalnap her until we left?”

Growling, Golden Thunder swung her hoof at Bon Bon’s face, but Bon Bon was faster. She ducked underneath and threw her over her shoulder, dropping her into the water.

Golden Thunder spat venom straight up, and Bon Bon’s raised hoof went from about to stomp on her head to quickly protecting her face. Bon Bon cried out as the venom burned her skin, and she quickly submerged her hoof in the water.
That helped wash off the venom and quell the pain a bit, but it also gave Golden Thunder a valuable window to recover. She kicked out at Bon Bon’s legs to trip her, and Bon Bon got hit by the edge of her hoof and stumbled into the water again. It was her turn to stomp, but Bon Bon quickly rolled out of the way, barely dodging the edge of her hoof. She stood up and shook herself quickly, getting the water off her coat.

Golden Thunder tried to use this to her advantage by attacking, but Bon Bon was expecting this. She slipped the punch and delivered a punishing headbutt.

Golden Thunder cried out and stumbled backwards. More blood dripped from her nose, and it hissed as it hit the water.

But Bon Bon wasn’t about to stop there. She charged Golden Thunder and rammed her against the grate. Holding her against the grate, she punched her in the face again and again, splattering blood on the metal.

But that came at a price. Bon Bon became aware of a growing, burning pain on her hooves. She spared a second to glance down and was shocked to see her hooves reddening.

Golden Thunder’s blood was burning her hooves!

She noticed, too. “L- looks like I’m -m unt- -touchable,” Golden Thunder grinned. Like most monsters, she was immune to her own poison. She dipped the tip of her hoof into her blood and swung, and Bon Bon wasn’t able to dodge in time. She cried out as it clipped her cheek. Her blood burned!

Bon Bon scowled as she took a few steps back and rubbed her face with her shoulder, and ignored the burn starting to pain her shoulder. She mentally adjusted her fighting style. If she couldn’t hit any sensitive areas to make her bleed, she'd have to adjust her punches, perform more body shots. Best case scenario, she could make her bleed out internally.

She saw her shiver, harder this time, and her ears pricked. On second thought, Plan A might still have some teeth in it.

She feinted, dodged left, and when Golden Thunder threw another punch and over-committed, leaped right. Bon Bon extended the garrote as she jumped, mounting her and wrapping it tightly around her neck.

Golden Thunder thrashed and bucked, stumbling backwards, shaking her head and spraying blood and spitting venom everywhere as she did. It hissed angrily as it hit the water, the walls, the grate, even the ceiling. Bon Bon grinned as it seemed she'd finally gotten the upper hoof.

But Golden’s movements had a reason. Occupied with the effort to stay upright and balanced, Bon Bon noticed too late just how close they were getting to the wall.

Golden Thunder reared up and slammed Bon Bon against the wall. Bon Bon saw spots and she hit the water with a splash.
Her eyes flickered as she pushed herself up. She forced her eyes open.

And saw Golden Thunder’s smiling face.

Before she could move, she darted forward and drove her fangs into Bon Bon's neck.

Bon Bon cried out in pain.

Golden Thunder took a step back, watching bemusedly as Bon Bon quickly pressed her hoof against the injury site to stop the bleeding. “Sh- shouldn't be long now, Sweetie D- Drops,” she said, an unholy glee shining in her slitted eyes even as she shivered in the cold. “My venom is n- nasty stuff. Wouldn't wish it on my w- worst enemy.” Her smile turned devious. “Oh wait. I would.”

Bon Bon scowled. She looked up, baring her teeth defiantly. She had a chance to survive this. And she wasn’t about to die like this. Not while Lyra was still in a hospital bed.

And if she was going to die, she was going to die fighting like an agent of SEMHA.

But then she blinked as something occurred to her. It hadn't tickled, but she'd always heard basilisk venom burned as it coursed through your body. This bite had just hurt.

And even if it hadn't burned, it should have affected her. Basilisk venom was nasty stuff. She should have been losing her vision, or felt her body stiffening, maybe even feeling her diaphragm paralyze; but nothing was happening. Not even a spot in her vision. This was strange. She should be dead.

Golden Thunder seemed to feel similarly. “Y- you should be dead,” she said, pointing a hoof accusingly.

“I should be dead,” Bon Bon agreed.

“The others…”

They both came to the realization at the same time.

“You're out of venom,” Bon Bon said, with a hint of triumph even as Sparky’s lip curled angrily.

“Guess there's s- still the old f- fashioned way,” she growled. She spun around and bucked.

Bon Bon slid down, burying herself in the water, ducking the hit. Golden cried out in pain as her hooves hit the wall, the cold increasing the pain she felt.

Bon Bon splashed her with water, then leaped up, shaking the cold water off in an attempt to disorient her. She delivered two punches to her chest and scampered back.

Enraged, Golden Thunder swung back, aiming for Bon Bon’s head.

But it was already over. The cold atmosphere and the long fight had finally taken their toll on the cold-blooded halfkin. Her punch was too slow, too telegraphed.

Bon Bon caught her hoof, held on tight, then fell backwards, rolling onto her back and pulling her along for the ride. At the last second, she thrust up with her hind legs, sending her forward into the grate.

The grate that had been exposed to copious amounts of basilisk-esque blood.

Golden Thunder crashed right through. She tumbled through the air, wings flailing ineffectively, stunned by the forces of impact and unable to right herself in time.

Now, had she hit the water below, she might have recovered and escaped to fight another day. But there happened to be a small outcropping, a metal platform, built for maintenance purposes.

She landed on it with a sickening crunch and didn’t move.

Golden Thunder slowly came to. She lay as still as she could. She’d somehow survived the fall. Perhaps her body's metabolism slowing down had something to do with it. This was good. Maybe she could still get out of this. She slowly opened her eyes.

And saw Sweetie Drops sitting there. “Good morning, Starshine!” she said brightly.

Golden Thunder barely had time to register that that was one of Sweetie Drops’ many catchphrases, which meant Sweetie Drops had been sitting there waiting for her, when she suddenly brought down a broken piece of the grate and jammed it into her eye. Golden Thunder screamed, and Sweetie Drops brought down a second piece.

“Take out the eyes first,” Bon Bon said calmly, as if dutifully repeating steps, her calm voice a dissonant serenity to Golden Thunder’s pained screeching. “You know, it’s a good thing you didn’t get the deadly glare along with the venom. That could have been messy.” She paused, tapping her chin. “I can never remember, is it cut off the head, then burn the body; or do you burn the body first?” she mused.

Liquid came splashing down, and Golden’s shrieks grew higher.

This wasn't water!

“Yeah, I think it's the second one,” she murmured, tossing away the empty kerosene can. She unscrewed the top face of her watch and pulled it off, revealing the emergency flint and steel set below. “Let's give the second one a try.”

Girlfriends and Old Friends

Lyra looked over as the door to her room opened, expecting a technician returning to take her vital signs again.
Instead, she saw a very tired but relieved-looking Bon Bon enter and quietly close the door behind her.

“Bon Bon!” she exclaimed joyfully.

She smiled. “Hey, Lyra. Great to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.” Her brow furrowed as she took in the sight of Bon Bon's various injuries. “You're hurt.”

“You should see the other mare,” Bon Bon joked. She paused. “Actually, I'd prefer if you didn't,” she corrected herself.

She sniffed. “And you kinda smell like a campfire.”

Bon Bon chuckled at that. It was like a campfire, but those hadn’t been marshmallows in the flames. Suddenly embarrassed, she subconsciously rubbed a little dried blood and ash that had formerly been halfkin off her cheek, but Lyra didn’t need to know that. “The fight got kinda weird,” she said, “but believe me, we don't need to worry about her anymore.”

Lyra let her head fall back against the pillow, feeling that burden lift itself from her shoulders. “That makes me feel a lot better,” she admitted.

Bon Bon neared and took hold of her hoof. “Me too,” she said. “But enough about me. What’d the doctors say? How bad was it?”

Lyra smiled wryly. “Well, I did have a concussion, and they want to keep me overnight for observation, but they're saying it wasn’t as bad as they'd thought, and I should be ready to check out in the morning.”

Bon Bon exhaled, relieved.

Lyra looked down at their hooves, which were still in contact, then back up. “So, did you mean what you said?”

Bon Bon paused. Her last conversation with Lyra felt like it had been a lifetime ago. She licked her lips. “About?”

“You know,” Lyra said, rolling her hoof leadingly. “Are we girlfriends?”

Bon Bon cracked a smile. “I certainly hope so.”

“Alright!” Lyra said excitedly, pumping a hoof.

Bon Bon nodded, quietly pleased with Lyra’s enthusiasm. “Just remember, I'm still pretty new at this, so go easy on me.”

Lyra giggled excitedly. “That's just fine.” She grinned. Now that the danger was gone, she could be teasing again. “But I've got to say, in the middle of the hospital? Not the most romantic place to ask me out.”

“It was a spur of the moment thing,” Bon Bon said airily.

Lyra frowned. Her ears pinned and her lower lip jutted out. “So did you not really mean it?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Do you… not want to be my girlfriend?”

Bon Bon jumped up, waving her hooves in an X gesture. “No, that’s not what I meant at all!” she said hurriedly. “Lyra, I've wanted you to be my girlfriend for a long time! Really! You've been my best friend for forever, and I swear I meant all of it. You're smart, you're brave, you're unbelievably cute, and… and you're teasing me, aren't you,” Bon Bon realized with a sigh.

“Yep,” Lyra said cheekily. “But that was really nice. You say the nicest things, Bon Bon.”

Bon Bon pulled a pillow from the bed and tossed it at her, but there was no malice in it; and judging by Lyra’s light giggle, she’d taken this all in fun.

And Bon Bon was at peace.

Unfortunately, visiting hours weren’t nearly as long as either mare would have liked, and before long, Bon Bon had to leave for the night.

The next morning dawned bright and early, but nowhere near soon enough for Lyra. She was awake and already itching to leave long before the sun had risen. She'd barely slept at all that night, and the recurring thought about how this could very well be her last night sleeping alone didn't help calm her mind, either.

Bon Bon apparently hadn't fared much better. She arrived at the hospital early, wearing Vanilla’s saddlebags, her mane slightly messy, as if she'd woken up early. “Good morning, Lyra,” she said brightly as she let the door close behind her. “Brought you breakfast.” She reached inside the saddlebag and pulled out a very familiar small white box.

“Chocolate?” Lyra asked skeptically. “For breakfast?”

Bon Bon shrugged. “It's a special occasion.”

Lyra grinned widely. “No complaints here.”

Bon Bon opened the box and lifted out a chocolate, and then placed it on her own tongue.

Lyra was slightly taken aback that Bon Bon would offer chocolate just to eat it in front of her, but Bon Bon didn't pull it into her mouth. Instead, she leaned forward, offering it.

Bon Bon’s heart pounded, but she tried to keep still. She'd seen other couples do this just outside the shop (some ponies seemed to think those windows were just for decoration!), but she wasn't sure how Lyra would respond. Hopefully this wasn't too much!

Lyra giggled.

Oh no! Bon Bon quickly withdrew. “What?” she asked, her cheeks coloring red.

“Nothing. That’s just really cute.”

Bon Bon gave her a sideways look. “Are you teasing me again?”

“Not this time. Come back here.” She reached up with her hooves, wrapped them around Bon Bon’s head, and pulled her close, close enough that Bon Bon could feel her heavy breaths. She extended her tongue and tried to pull the chocolate into her mouth, but Bon Bon curled her tongue protectively around it, pulling it back in and simultaneously pulling Lyra’s tongue into her mouth.

But now it was a game, and Lyra wasn’t about to give up that easily. She pulled Bon Bon in closer and stuck her tongue in deeper, sweeping the inside of her mouth, pulling the chocolate back.

So pressed between the two mares’ tongues, the chocolate cracked open, and the creamy interior was exposed. With a quick movement, Lyra swept it into her mouth. “Mm, my favorite,” Lyra said, sitting back slightly.

“I know,” Bon Bon said. “Mint’s one of my favorites, too.”

“No, I meant you.” And she pulled Bon Bon down again and slid her tongue back into her mouth, ostensibly trying to get the last bit of that first chocolate out. Bon Bon couldn’t help but let out a soft moan at being thusly penetrated.

Pretty soon, it stopped being about the chocolate, and more about exploring each other. The box, still with all but one of its chocolates, lay abandoned on the side table. Lyra felt like a natural, and Bon Bon let herself be lost in the kiss.

But it wouldn't stay like that for long. Without breaking lip contact, Lyra moved her other hoof to brush gently against Bon Bon’s barrel. She squirmed, but that seemed to be the reaction Lyra was going for. Slowly, she drew her hoof in a circle that wandered progressively lower and lower.

Bon Bon’s chest began to heave. She’d never actually gone this far before. Her flirting classes hadn't explained this. Most usually ended with instructions on where to kick if the mark moved from looking to touching.

But with Lyra, this felt right. She'd let Lyra do anything to her.

And, of course, right then the door opened. “Good morning, Miss Heartst-” She let out a startled gasp and nearly dropped the clipboard, and the two ponies quickly wrenched themselves apart. “How did you get in here? Visitor hours don't start until nine!”

“What?” Bon Bon asked, seemingly shocked. “Oh, I had no idea. My bad. I'll just… wait outside.” Whistling innocently, she sidled out the door and went back to the waiting room. She sat down heavily and huffed. Bon Bon hated waiting. Now, she was annoyed, frustrated, and still fairly aroused, so that made everything worse. She sat uncomfortably in the chair and kept fidgeting with the box. She should have brought some for herself; none of the chocolates she'd brought today were for her.

Well, some might be, but she was really hoping not.

Bon Bon had read all the old magazines, ranked every attendant at the front desk in terms of probable fighting prowess, set up three possible escape plans (four if she counted the idea of shouting there was a CO leak and straight up hucking a chair out the nearest window), and waited for what had felt like an hour and Lyra still hadn’t come out. She pawed irritably at her saddlebag, wondering if she should just go check out her hunch without Lyra, but then deciding against it. If she were right-

The doors opened and Lyra finally came out. “I am good to go!” she proclaimed proudly.

Bon Bon tackled her in a tight hug before realizing they were very much still in public. But then she realized she didn't really care.

Especially not when Lyra enthusiastically returned it.

Before long, they stood at the admission desk, Lyra with a quill in her magic and another chocolate in her mouth, ready to go home and be done with the hospital and its constant smell of antiseptic. She signed the papers, and she was a free pony.

The nurse gave her a friendly smile. “Remember to drink plenty of fluids, and take it easy for the next couple weeks or so, no heavy magical lifting.”

“Definitely,” Lyra promised.

“Actually, before we go,” Bon Bon said casually, “there’s a pony we'd like to see. Dewy Dusk, room A25?”

The nurse brightened. “Oh, yes! She hasn't had any visitors, I bet she'd love that. I'll show you to her room.”

Lyra squinted. She didn't know Dewy Dusk, but Bon Bon seemed to.

And then when the nurse knocked and opened the door with a cheery call of “visitors”, Lyra gasped as she realized that she did know this pony under all those bandages.

The nurse smiled and closed the door behind her, and Bon Bon exhaled through her nose. “Wow. I can honestly say I never expected to see you again.”

“I could say the same thing about you two,” the mare responded. “How did you know I was here?”

“When I was doing a little recon on patients before I left last night—habit, you know—I saw one of your aliases on the rotations list, and I just had to check it out.” She shook her head. “I can't believe you survived.”

Misty Evening cracked a wry smile, and her teeth showed through the still-healing holes that had been burned through her cheek. “I guess you could call it that,” she said dolefully. “Turns out him straddling me shielded me from most of the explosion on account of him taking it. Most of it, anyway.” She gestured with her right foreleg, now also amputated at the first joint. “So, yay for perverted stallions, I guess.”

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” Lyra said.

Misty Evening snorted. “Would you be?” she challenged. “My cutie mark stands for agility. I used to be the most agile flyer you’ve ever seen. Sure, I wasn’t the fastest; but I could outfly a manticore’s tail, dodge a quarry eel, and catch up to a fleeing hydra. Now I’m laying in a hospital bed, I’m on a constant drip of painkillers, and I can’t even 504 myself.” She closed her eyes and reclined her head until she was facing the ceiling. “Almost wish I hadn’t survived,” she muttered quietly.

Lyra bowed her head in sympathy pain.

“I brought you something,” Bon Bon said quietly. She pulled another white box out of her saddlebags and slid it onto the bedside table. It took Misty a few moments, but she finally looked up at it. She reached for it with her right hoof… but it didn’t go nearly far enough.

Lyra felt her heart break for the poor mare as she tried to shift her weight over to use her left foreleg. She looked over at Bon Bon, but she almost imperceptibly shook her head. She needed to do this for herself. Even a tiny victory was a victory, and Misty could really use a victory right now.

She managed to flip the lid open, and a real smile crossed her face for the first time in a long time. “My cutie mark,” she said. She chuckled. “Six of my cutie marks.”

“Formed of pure milk chocolate on top of a white chocolate truffle,” Bon Bon confirmed. “I remember those were your favorites.”

“Frankly, I’d eat a rotten apple over what they’re feeding me here,” Misty said, taking a truffle and placing it into her mouth. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she moaned in pleasure. “Oh, that’s good stuff,” she whimpered. “Thanks, Sweetie- Bon Bon, keep forgetting. I owe you one.”

Bon Bon chuckled lightly. “You don't owe me anything. If I can sneak a five hundred arrow battery into the capital of Griffonia, I can definitely sneak in truffles past hospital security.”

“Five hundred arrow…?” Lyra wondered.

“Possible roc sighting and the then-mayor of the city didn’t like us, and close enough to Cloudsdale’s position at the time that we had to act. Turned out to be a false report so he could garner some public support, something he was hoping we wouldn’t figure out.”

“So we told the whole town,” Misty interjected playfully.

Lyra giggled. “Well, at least it's just chocolate, this…” Her voice trailed off as Misty pulled out a ceramic blade from the box.

A slow smile crossed Misty's face. “Rule nine,” she said. She seemed to visibly relax as she slid it under her pillow. “Thanks. Haven’t felt so exposed since I had to go undercover protecting that dancer.”

Bon Bon giggled. “Hey, now. The socks and panties were a good look for you.”

Misty raised her right hoof-

Misty raised her left hoof. “The black eye I'm gonna give you is gonna be a good look for you, too,” she threatened.

Thankfully, before any violence (playful or otherwise) happened, there came a gentle knock at the door. A doctor poked his head in. “Good afternoon. I’d like to speak with Miss Misty Evening, alone, please, if that’s alright with you.”

Bon Bon narrowed her eyes and she shifted her weight. “That’s not the name on the registrar, your lab coat is older and worn and it’s not the same cut as the other doctors’, you’re not carrying a stethoscope, and that's definitely not her medical chart; so no. It’s not alright with me.”

His eyes narrowed… and then his jaw dropped. “You’re Special Agent Sweetie Drops,” he breathed, a strange mix of fear and awe (and possibly horror?) crossing his face.

Bon Bon smiled. “Ah, I see my reputation precedes me.” Her smile turned deadly. “Now tell me who you are, or that might be the last thing you ever say.”

He held out his hoof, a wide smile on his face. “I’m Bolted Sprocket, former agent of SEMHA. You wouldn’t know me, I was in the mechanical division. I got the interdepartmental memos, though, and the agency newsletter. You were Agent of the Month four times in a row one year, so I know you.”

Bon Bon raised an eyebrow.

“I mean… I don’t know you, know you,” Sprocket mumbled and dropped his hoof, looking down as he realized just how awkward that had sounded. “I just… know you, you know? And after that whole bugbear incident, well, everypony… knew… uh…” His voice trailed off as he realized he was only digging himself deeper even faster. “...your team?” he tried.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here first,” Bon Bon said sweetly, “and I’ll decide on whether I castrate you with a scalpel later.”

This, as can well be imagined, did wonders to improve his concentration. He snapped to attention. “I’ve been tasked with inviting Misty Evening, former agent of SEMHA, to a project codenamed Titanium Pony.”

“Titanium Pony?” Bon Bon repeated flatly.

He held the clipboard out to Misty Evening, but suddenly stopped at the sight of her amputated right foreleg. He seemed trapped in fascination, unable to look away.

So Bon Bon kicked him in the shin.

“Ow!” He dropped the clipboard and rubbed his shin.

“Titanium Pony?” she repeated leadingly.

“It’s… it’s because most of the bone replacement implants are made from titanium,” he said through gritted teeth. “Good, solid metal, it is. Nonreactive, too, not likely to leach out and contaminate your blood.”

Misty raised an eyebrow. “And you want me in as a consultant?”

“A- actually, we want you in as a recipient.”

“For bone replacement?” Misty whispered, opening and looking over the file. “You mean I might get my hooves back?”

“Oh, hooves we can do with very little issue,” Sprocket chuckled proudly. “That was one of the first things we worked on, after ears. You should never underestimate how important aesthetics are, and every pony needs a fine set of ears that work. Previous prosthetics didn't react to the wearer's emotions; our new ones do. Look fine, but you can't scratch behind them very well because of how we have to graft them into the skull; metal rods drilled in, and plastic bracing and such. Hooves we can do, though. Takes a little bit of getting used to—months, at times, honestly—but every one of our test subjects has eventually recovered full range of motion with no issues. Entire legs are a bit more difficult, especially around the joints, but they're doable, just take even more practice to get used to. Final stages of testing. It’s actually wings we’re working on right now. Huge project, really. We're trying to see if we can design our machinations to channel pegasus magic, based on the latent ability to ‘magnetize’ connected items. Small-scale tests have been promising. Someday we even hope to figure out horns.”

This seemed too good to be true. Suspicious, Misty Evening pressed her good hoof against the symbol on the bottom of the paper and closed her eyes in concentration… and then her jaw dropped as the symbol lifted off the paper and rotated in the air in response to her magic. She looked up at Sprocket, and tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

Bon Bon gently and discreetly nudged Lyra towards the door. “We’ll leave you two alone,” she said.

“That's wonderful,” Lyra said as soon as the door closed behind them. “I'm so happy for her.”

“Yeah,” Bon Bon agreed. “I'm excited for her, too.”

She didn't sound very excited. “You ok?”

Bon Bon wearily shook her head. “Everything’s catching up to me now. Frankly, what I want to do is go home and sleep for a week.”

Lyra nuzzled her. “Sounds good to me. Your place or mine?”

Bon Bon paused. “Huh. I guess we do need to figure that out.” She smiled. “How about yours?”

“But your place has more chocolate,” Lyra protested.

“And a dead stallion still in my freezer,” Bon Bon said flatly. “I may be new to this, but I know that's not real romantic.”

“My place it is, then,” Lyra said with a little forced brightness. She bumped her girlfriend with her hips. “Come on, secret agent mare, let's go home.”

Author's Note

Roll credits.

Mid-Credits Stinger

A young colt with a periwinkle blue coat pranced nervously in front of the door. He looked around and realized he was getting attention from blocking the door, so he swallowed his fear and went inside the library.

Bingo night was easy to find. He just had to follow the noise. And the giant signs.

A mare by the door waved in greeting. “You come to play?” she asked, gesturing at the bingo cards at the desk in front of her.

“I came for…”

She wasn't wearing a scarf.

“For... something else,” he finished lamely.

“Well, there's plenty to do here,” she said brightly. “I'm sure you'll find something you’ll like.”

He gave a half-hearted agreement and went inside. The room was full of ponies, most of them older. Walkers and gray hairs littered the group, and once again he felt very much out of place.

He couldn't shake the feeling of foolishness. This was a dumb idea. None of his other packmates had wanted to come. They’d had a discussion, and thankfully it hadn’t been night or it might have come to a wolfing-out fight. Most of them wanted to keep going on their own. Some wanted to just forget the whole thing, go back to their previous lives. And he? He was here.

And he wasn’t even sure why he was here.

He was just about to give this up when he saw a pony in the back leaning back in his chair, a scarf with bones wrapped loosely around his neck like an ascot.

Well, he'd come this far. He swallowed and walked up. “Hey,” he started, his voice cracking.

The stallion nodded distractedly back.

“I’m… a new pup who, uh, came to bark at the moon?”

His eyes widened slightly, now paying full attention. “That so?” he said softly. He hit his head against the wall, casually, as if he was just pushing himself off with it to return the chair to all four legs.

But apparently, this was a signal. Within moments, another mare seemingly appeared seemingly from nowhere. She looked at him, and with a welcoming smile, tilted her head and indicated he should follow her.

He followed her to a secret entrance behind the wall, and down a small hallway with a door at the end.

“So,” she started conversationally, “you've got yourself one of these.” She pulled the fur on her foreleg tight, revealing a scar in the shape of a semicircular bite mark that seemed to shimmer with a silvery light.

He felt a small thrill. He returned the gesture, revealing his own bite mark high on his barrel.

She nodded. “How did you find out about our group?”

He paused as he realized he didn't know her name. “Uh, somepony told me about it. She had a pink and blue mane,” he offered.

She grinned knowingly. “Agent Sweetie Drops brought me here, too. She used to come to these every once in a while, actually.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. Not everypony here’s an ehowolf, some are friends or family.” She pushed open the door. “So don’t worry. You’ll fit in just fine.”

He entered, unsure what to expect.

But what he didn't expect was to be tackled by a wolf. He let out a panicked shriek and covered his face.

She responded instantly, holding her back with a hoof. “Dandi!” she scolded. “What did we say about tackling ponies without their permission?”

The wolf turned and let out a plaintive whine.

His eyes widened as he realized he understood what she’d said.

She sighed. “I know it's instinctive, but that doesn't make it ok. We maintain control, remember?”

Dandi chuffed and trotted off, tail and nose high.

The mare turned and helped the colt up. “Don’t mind Dandelion. She’s more comfortable in her wolf form, and there aren't many places she can just run around, you know?”

“Yeah,” he said softly, a smile spreading across his face as he looked around in wonder at this place where wolves and ponies could co-exist. “Yeah, I do.”

Post-Credits Stinger

Late at night, a shadow crept through the alleyway and over to the dumpster. It lifted the dumpster lid. Recoiling a bit at the smell but still determined in its mission, it hopped up, reached down, and grabbed. With a grunt of effort, she hauled her target out and unceremoniously dumped her onto the ground. She leaned down, seized the silver knife sticking out of her chest, and yanked it out.

Flitter Pollen gasped, panting in relief as she could think straight again (and as the world no longer smelled like rotting garbage, unwashed socks, and old fruit). “Oh, Celestia… Thanks,” she breathed.

“Celestia? Ha. You wish.”

The narcoblix gagged as her 'savior' roughly rubbed a hoofful of powdered lavender in her face. She shrieked and scraped it off as fast as she could, but it was fine powder and stuck to her sweat; she could tell it was going to stick and burn for a while. “Ahh! Oh, Celestia! My eyes!” she whimpered as she rubbed at them.

“Again? I’m telling you, I’m not Celestia. I'm nice, but not that nice. And I'm certainly not giving you the opportunity to bite me.”

She paused in her scrubbing, terrified into stillness. She recognized that voice. “S- Sweetie Drops?” she asked quietly.

“In the fur.”

Flitter Pollen giggled nervously, now trying even more desperately to get the lavender off, yet trying valiantly to keep her voice light. “Hey, so, uh, I'm guessing you got her?”

“Mm-hm. Golden Thunder has been crossed off.”

“Good, uh, good, that’s good. So, uh, no... no hard feelings, then, right?”

Bon Bon turned around and bucked her head into the dumpster. It bounced off with a resounding clang, and Flitter Pollen collapsed to the ground, seeing stars. “None whatsoever,” Bon Bon said pleasantly, spinning around to continue the conversation. “Honestly, though, I'm only here because of Lyra. Personally, I'd've left you in there, but my girlfriend happens to have a heart.”

Flitter Pollen sat up, wiped her nose and spat out blood, and paused. “Wait. She's your girlfriend now?”

“She is.”

It started out as a low rumble deep in Flitter Pollen’s tummy, but it soon grew like rising steam pressure, expanding out until it exploded out of her into a long, “D’awwwwww, Sweetie Drops!”

Bon Bon was less that amused. “I have more powdered lavender and easy access to your ears. Don't push it.”

Flitter Pollen sat up, having gotten most of the powder off, and leaned against the dumpster. She cracked a weak smile. “What can I say? I'm a romantic at heart.”

“Yes, I'm sure the foals you glamoured into doing things far beyond their age thought so as well.”

“First off, you never proved it was me. Second off, it's not like they remember doing it, anyway,” Flitter Pollen defended herself sullenly.

“And that's the only reason you're still alive right now.”

She shrugged. “Well, everypony has their issues.”

“Yeah.” Before she could bring her hooves up to defend herself, Bon Bon drove the knife into her shoulder, deep enough that she wouldn't be running anywhere soon, but not too deep so she would be completely incapacitated. “Even me,” she said over Flitter Pollen’s cry of pain. She trotted off. “Don't let me catch you doing anything sketchy again, Flitter Pollen; or when I find you, you'll wish all I did was throw you back in a dumpster. Do I make myself clear?”

“As a crystal foal!” Flitter Pollen said brightly.

Bon Bon stopped short with a disgruntled snort.

She quickly backpedalled. “Wait, wait!” She scrambled desperately at the knife, trying to free herself before Sweetie Drops made it back. “I was joking, wait, I haven't even bitten any crystal ponies, I swear, it was just a jo- ow! Ouch! It was a- Ow! Swee-! Ow!”