Getting Shy

"You get Fluttershy back or I'm putting them all online and sending the links to everyone!" Patrick was doing his best to sound cool and determined, but his heart was hammering and he was holding his lighter in a death grip. He'd just had a cigarette before calling Mason and he already wanted another one.

His asshole of a neighbor didn't reply.

"That's the deal. You can have your papers back, but I scanned them all!"

"You fucking-"

"Shut the fuck up!" He was tired of listening to Mason swear and it was getting them nowhere. Pat dropped his lighter on the kitchen table and ran his hand through his hair as he sighed. "Look. If I put those financials out you'll sue me, I get it. I'm not gonna do it unless you make me."

This time Mason made what could loosely be called a laugh. "You'd go to prison for a fucking pet?!"

"You wouldn't understand," Patrick said, trying to keep the defeat from his voice. What had they called this back in college before he flunked out? Mutually-assured destruction? "Give me 'Shy and we're done. You'll never hear from me again."

This was the third time he'd called Mason in as many days and each time it had ended in a shouting match, a lot of swearing and one of them throwing the phone down in anger. The fact that they hadn't started yelling yet this time was giving Patrick some hope. Hope was something he had in short supply. Who knew what Fluttershy was going through and he was no closer to finding her as he had been at the start.

"Your word is worth jack shit," Mason began but Pat interrupted him.

"It's the best you'll get! Look, at least tell me where she is or I'm going right to my computer and sending those scans to everyone, okay?!" He was no longer trying to hide the manic edge in his voice.

More silence.

"8861 Theatre Street," the man finally mumbled. Pat almost couldn't believe his ears.

"What?"

There was another sigh. "The fucking address! Take it and fucking leave me alone you piece of shit!"

Patrick rushed over to his 'everything drawer' and rummaged for a pen. He wrote the street and the number down before he'd forget it.

Mason kept talking in the meantime: "Listen, if so much as a word from my documents gets out I'll fucking destroy you, get it? I'll ruin you, and your parents, and your friends, and your barrista and the fucking girl on the counter in the supermarket! Everyone you so much as looked at in your entire life!"

Maybe he should give the man a promise or something, but he obviously wouldn't believe it. Patrick just hung up the phone. He hurried to the coffee table and fumbled his laptop open. He tapped the floor nervously as he waited for it to boot up, then grumbled a few curses when it took a long, fucking time to start the browser.

Less than a minute later he was looking at the street photos. The address looked like some kind of a warehouse in an industrial area on the other side of the city. Surely it wasn't some kind of a trap, was it? Pat panned around the image, but of course it wouldn't be able to show him if anyone would be waiting there for him.

"Fuck, you better appreciate this, 'Shy..." He couldn't wait a single minute longer. It was almost nine P.M. but he simply had to find out. He slammed the laptop shut and got his phone out to put in the address. It was more than an hour's drive, but he didn't care. He'd have to stop for gas on the way there, but that was just another minor detail. Pat almost ran out of his house and barely remembered to lock the door before going for his car. He remembered to glance at Mason's house, but aside from a light in the living room window he didn't see anything out of place.

It was a relief that the man hadn't come outside to watch him run off, though.

In moments Pat was buckled in, turned the car on and drove away.

Patrick arrived at the place in the middle of the night and the area seemed deserted. There were no houses or apartments on that street and the factories and warehouses seemed to dominate. Everything was still and quiet. Aside from the street lamps and an occasional sign, there was no illumination. His heart sank. How was he supposed to find 'Shy in this? He parked by the side of the road and got out with his phone in hand. He walked around a little to make sure the GPS was accurate, then headed for the pin exactly where Mason's address was shown.

There was a ramp and a small guard hut, but it looked deserted and lifeless so he approached. If anyone asked, he could always say he was lost and ask for directions. Luckily no one showed up and soon he was looking into the empty shack. Beyond the ramp there was a large space with a few parked trucks, and further on was a wide warehouse building. It didn't make sense, but it was the best lead he had. If it turned out Mason had sent him on a wild goose chase, he'd make him pay.

Perhaps he could remove a few of the black boxes on one of his documents and post it again. It was highly unlikely anyone would see it, not unless Patrick specifically sent the link to newspapers and social media, but it would show the bastard he was being serious.

At the moment there didn't seem anything else to do, so Pat glanced around to see if anyone was coming then ducked under the ramp into the parking lot. He pushed down the strong feeling of wrongness and kept walking. The trucks were dark and quiet, but their drivers might be sleeping inside, Pat remembered, so he made sure to walk behind where he would have less chance of being seen. There was no outcry or sudden spotlights, but he didn't relax even when he reached the warehouse.

It looked abandoned and all the doors seemed tightly shut. Just as an experiment Patrick walked over to the nearest human-sized door in the wall and tried the handle. Locked. He didn't know what to do next. Maybe he could break in somehow, but that would require knowing how to pick locks or smash down doors. Not to mention that there would probably be an alarm. He groaned in frustration and began walking along the wall, intending to fully circumnavigate the building. Maybe there would be a window or something and he could see inside. All he needed was a sign that 'Shy was really here! He could work out a plan for getting her out after that.

It was slow going because he tried every door he came across, even the large ones for trucks. They didn't have handles, but Pat tried pushing them up in the hopes that one of their mechanisms was faulty and didn't lock properly. Unfortunately everything seemed well maintained and soon he turned a corner without a single opportunity to get inside. The side wall was completely bare, so Patrick just hurried on to reach the back. Maybe they would be less diligent on the side which didn't face the road. The pavement only extended a few feet from the wall and then changed to grass, so he moved there and hastened his pace. It was easier to walk quietly on the softer surface.

He kept his gaze on the ground before him so he wouldn't step on something noisy and that turned out to be his lucky break. He spotted a patch of mud and hurriedly took out his phone. The little light it provided wasn't much, but it was enough to reveal a clear hoofprint. This nearly made Patrick smile. There really were ponies around this place and here was proof. Maybe they let them out for exercise or something. He scanned the ground for more, but the grass didn't show anything and Pat didn't have the first idea how you went about tracking something.

The patch of mud had been a stroke of luck, it seemed.

He hurried on, hoping to see something specifically pertaining to Fluttershy, but Patrick was pretty convinced she was there. The fact that Mason had broken down and told him the address, and that there actually were ponies there, told him that the man was probably really worried about those documents getting out. In a few minutes, and with his heart hammering in excitement, Pat rounded the next corner. There were more truck-gates, but that parking lot was a lot smaller and no vehicles were standing on it. He hurried along the wall, once again pausing to try each gate and door he came across. No luck, but by the time he had made it almost to the other side he began to smell a powerful stink. It was out of place for an industrial area and reminded him more of a farm or something. He'd kept his phone out and began to shine it further ahead to try and find the source of the stink.

Once he spotted a low, walled pit he knew. He couldn't guess what the thing had been used for before, but now it was half-full of manure. Of course, if they had any number of ponies they'd have to do something about their bodily functions. Patrick grimaced in distaste. He knew for a fact that ponies could use the toilets without issue, but here it looked like they were being treated as farm animals. Probably kept in stalls or cages and their crap shovelled out every day. His blood burned and Pat eyed the nearest door, wondering if he could knock it down after all. Fluttershy deserved to get out of this place. He hated the thought of her being stuck in there a minute longer than necessary. After a few moments he subsided. He wouldn't do either of them any good if he got caught breaking into the place. He needed a plan. He kicked at the wall of the pit, doing nothing except hurting his foot, then stalked off around the final corner.

The side wall was pretty much the same as the other one, so Patrick just hurried along it, not paying much attention to the ground. He had what he'd come for, but now he was faced with a new problem.

How to get 'Shy out of there?

Breaking in would have to be a last resort, he decided. Maybe he could bargain for her or something. Maybe if he got Mason to call and tell them to sell her cheap Pat could afford the price. He'd have to get a loan, there was no doubt about that. He had some savings, but nothing nearly sufficient. He'd have to get one of those barbaric, overpriced, dickish 'general-purpose' loans and simply swallow the large overpayment the bank would extract in return. It was for 'Shy and Pat was willing to do anything.

However, he could only do that if the people who owned the ponies came. There was nothing to do but wait. Patrick went back to his car, completely forgetting to check for traffic until he was ducking under the ramp. He froze and looked both ways, but the street remained deserted so he let out the breath which had caught in his throat. He walked to his car and sat inside. He could drive home and get some sleep, but Patrick didn't want to leave. 'Shy had slipped through his grasp once already and he didn't want to leave now that he had a pretty good idea where she was. If they tried to move her in one of those trucks there was nothing he could do. Very likely he wouldn't even know they were moving her, but he still couldn't bring himself to leave. There was a chance, however slim, that he'd see her. Maybe he could park at a place where he could see that grassy bit at the side through the chain link fence. Just a glimpse would do! He had to know if she was alive!
Patrick wrapped himself more tightly in his coat and prepared to wait out the night in his car. It'd be chilly, but he'd be fine. He'd endure any discomfort for that sweet, yellow mare.

He must have nodded off at some point in the night because Patrick woke up when it became too bright to ignore. He was stiff and cold and somehow felt more tired than the previous night. It really hadn't been quality sleep. He forgot the discomfort when he looked at the street. Several other cars were parked at the entrance to that warehouse and he could see a couple of trucks waiting to go inside. The guy in a guard's uniform was examining the papers from one of the truck drivers. At first glance it looked like a regular warehouse, but Patrick knew for a fact they had ponies in there. Surely they didn't need that much food, did they? Maybe whoever owned it didn't want to give the whole place over to keeping ponies and still used it for its intended purpose in part? It would explain the number of trucks.

In any case, now was his chance to find out more. Pat got out of his car and walked down the sidewalk to the little guard hut. The man was just finishing with the last truck driver and sauntered over when he spotted him.

"Whatddya want?"

Patrick hadn't given much forethought to his words which was just as well. He was better at improvising anyway. "Hey, I heard I might be able to buy one of those maid ponies over here."

The guard scrutinized him up and down, doubt plainly evident on his face. Pat didn't look rich enough to afford a technicolor alien horse. There was nothing he could do except wait and hope the man decided to believe him. Finally he stirred and shrugged a little to himself. "You want Nigel Patterson," the guard said and pointed at where a group of men were leaning against a couple of forklifts. "Big guy, black hair and beard."

"Yeah, I see him. Thanks."

Patrick walked in through the small pedestrian gate by the hut, which was open now that it was day. He glanced back after a few steps, but there was a new truck waiting to get in and the guard was heading over, apparently having already forgotten about the unexpected visitor. It was just as well. Pat made his way to Nigel and his friends, who fell silent when they noticed him approach. They didn't seem hostile or resentful, but neither did they look too curious about why he was there.

Pat decided to start the conversation so he'd appear more confident, more in control. "Hey, you Nigel?" he prompted.

The big man gave him a single nod.

"The name's Pat." They briefly shook and then Pat decided to cut straight to the chase. "I'm looking to buy one of those maid ponies."

This got him a chuckle from Nigel. "I don't think you can afford one, pal."

He was right, but Patrick was trying hard not to show it. "You never know. So you selling or what?"

Nigel looking him over once more then seemed to decide it wasn't his problem. "You'll have to talk with the boss. I just take care of them."

This proved too much and Patrick couldn't hold his mouth shut. "I'm looking for a specific one. Yellow, pink hair. Pegasus," he described.

Nigel blinked in surprise and straightened up. "Huh..." he murmured to himself. Then he pointed at the other men around. "You guys, back to work. I need to talk with Pat here."

There were one or two grumbles that their smoking break was cut short, but the men obeyed and drove away with the forklifts. They probably weren't supposed to ride on the forks in front, but Patrick wasn't about to go complain to OSHA. He followed Nigel to one of the smaller doors and his heart began to race faster. Maybe he'd get to see 'Shy at least.

"I should've recognized the name straight away. The horse talks about you."

"S-She's here!" He couldn't keep the tremble out of his voice and Nigel smirked when he looked back.

"Yeah, that's basically all it talks about. Is it true you fucked it?"

The word 'it' irked, but Patrick did his best not to show it on his face. He needed Nigel friendly and willing to bargain. "How much for her?" They reached the door and Pat was poised to follow Nigel inside, but the other man stopped and leaned against the wall. He wasn't taking him anywhere, Pat realized, he just wanted to clear the parking lot so they wouldn't get run over by something. Pat didn't know what to do with his hands, so he stuck them in his pockets as he waited for the verdict.

"Dunno. That one probably isn't for sale. Boss said to send it to retraining," the man explained and the word 'retraining' made Pat's blood run cold. Fluttershy still hadn't talked about what had happened to her after she was captured, but he felt it was probably awful.

"I can take her off your hands, save you the trouble. I can train her myself," he said, trying to appear as nonchalant as he possibly could. Nigel didn't say anything, so he went on. "Come on. How much?"

"They normally go for a hundred large," he said. The word 'normally' there made Pat hold his breath with sudden hope. "Female ones used to be a hundred and fifty, but we're not selling them any more."

Patrick resisted the urge to start begging. Something told him there was a 'but' coming up.

Nigel chewed the inside of his lip for a moment, then sighed. "Look, I'll level with you. The yellow one is- Well, I was going to tell the boss we should cut our losses."

"What?! Why?"

At least the man had the decency to look uncomfortable as he went on. "Well, it's moping around all the time and refusing to eat. The pegasus ones don't have that much spare flesh to begin with. I doubt retraining would have helped either. I've seen this kind of thing before. Sometimes they just give up, you know?" He shrugged a little and spat on the ground, narrowly missing Pat's shoe. "I can't be assed to force feed them and it doesn't even work, really. Too smart, you see?"

"Well, so just sell her to me. You don't care if she dies after that, right?" Patrick tried. Saying that left a stone in his belly, but it was just an act. He knew 'Shy would be right as rain as soon as they were reunited. It was unsettling that they'd give up on a pony after less than a week, but Patrick reminded himself that these people sold living, thinking beings as slaves or worse, so maybe it wasn't too unusual. His best hope right then was if Nigel believed 'Shy would be more work than she is worth, so he'd prefer to sell her for a fast profit.

The guy still looked a little doubtful. "Well, sometimes they get better after a while."

"If she didn't by now she probably isn't going to. Look, I'm offering cash. Today. Off the books. Just tell your boss she died or something and you can keep it all. I'm not gonna tell anyone!"

"How much?"

This gave Patrick real hope that he might get 'Shy after all. He paused to thank human greed and think about a good number. He did a fast mental calculation about what kind of a loan he might get away with. "Ten thousand?"

Nigel grimaced, obviously weighing the prospect of personal profit against the possibility of getting caught. "Fifteen," he countered.

"Deal."

"Not a word to anyone, get it? Anyone asks, the horse refused to eat and died. I don't wanna see you around here again, or it."

"I swear! I'll go get the money right away-"

The man held up a hand to forestall him. "Don't be stupid. Come back after midnight. Let's say one or so. I'll wait for you at the ramp."

"I'll be there!"

Patrick reached out his hand to shake on it, but Nigel just grunted and went inside the warehouse. So that was it. All his savings plus a significant loan, but for 'Shy it would be worth it. The living would be tough for a while until he paid the bank back. With Fluttershy there it would be bearable, even if they had to eat nothing but bread and water for a while.

He hurried back to his car. Hopefully the bank could give him the loan quickly. It was still early in the day.