Incognito in Manehattan

by Nialias

Rating: mature
Tags: Violence, Sex, Human, Anon, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Changelings, Original Character, Comedy
Length: 6991

Anon was in Canterlot a long time ago. This is the other one.

Professor Virgin Fields is in over her head with the Hooflyn mafia. What was supposed to be a quick and mostly legal bit of chemistry advice has got her in deep with the Comb family.

Surely a trip to Fetlock Street, den of debauchery and stallions of easy affection, will be nothing but a nice break from her stress and won't lead to further complications.

Welcome to Manehattan.

Published 2024-05-08 00:40:00 UTC
Last updated 2024-05-30 13:21:07 UTC

P̶a̶d̶ Fetlock Street

Fetlock Street.

Once Padlock Street, after the philanthropist and entrepreneur Gilded Padlock displayed proudly in brass portrait, the street sign has long since been written over with its new purpose. Far from housing the happy families it was meant for, it's the working place of whorses, salt dealers, and all sorts of ne'er-do-wells that society at large would rather avoid unless they were desperate, miserable, horny, or some combination of the three.

Virgin Fields was all three of those in spades. She paced nervously in front of the large plaque at the north entrance, the brass board covered in graffiti of to be honest mostly dicks. Padlock herself sported several. It wasn't supposed to be like this, she thought. Professor of Harmonic Chemistry Virgin Fields had come to Manehattan on a research grant and a dream, to see if a strange magical residue found in some of the old wells in Hooflyn could be identified or used in some new arcane science.

The whole thing was a bust.

Wells were boarded up, some were filled in, and the locals were less than useless. Stories that some strange shadow being fled the old holes in he ground turned up only a wet and exhausted cat. But by then the damage was done, somepony had started a song, and it was all over from there. The grant money dried up, and Professor Fields' reputation went down in flames before it even left the ground. Science was a competitive field, and she'd bet her alabaster horn that she'd just been disqualified from the race.

Shaking the awful memories from her head, she set hoof down the street. It all seemed to loom to the aptly named Professor Fields, handsome stallions that to unclouded eyes were maybe a 5 or 6 at best leered down from balconies, some whistling. The attention only drove her ears down further, which prompted coo-ing and offers to "cheer her up", feeding the loop until her chin touched the ground.

"Hey there filly." A mare's voice. A hug-pimp! "First time down Fetlock street?" She was aubergine, had a blue mane nopony had taken care of in her life, and was more grease than equine.
Professor Fields' head shot up! Must be confident and marely in front of hug-pimps, or they'll take you for a ride, somepony she didn't want to deal with had said to her. Head held high, slight smirk, exude competence.

"Oh don't worry," she said with boundless false bravado, "I know my way around a street."

". . ." The hug-pimp was speechless. Success!

"I could use a recommendation for a good, you know..." Fields went to lean on a wall coolly, stumbling as she leaned the wrong way. "Uh, snuggler. A stallion who really nuzzles good, you know?"

". . .I'm sorry, I zoned out there for a second. You're the most virgin mare I've ever seen."

"How did you know my name!?" Virgin Fields exclaimed, jumping back in alarm!

"Your name is-" The hug-pimp had to collect herself. "Okay, look, normally I'd point you to one of my cute colts, but you clearly need something special."

"A uh, real nuzzler?"

"The full coltfriend experience. As snuggly as you want, filly." The hug-pimp snickered the last sentence.

"Oh, uh, great! I've never had," The hug-pimp started to chuckle as Virgin broke off, "I mean, not for a while."

"Sure, sure. Look, this has already made my day, so number fifty three, third floor, second door on the left."

"Thank you? Do I give you bits now, or..?"

"It really is your first time. Go have your fun first, then worry about all that."

"Right. Sure. I'll just. . . go. . . now." Fields had no idea how to exit that conversation. The hug-pimp just fought to keep from laughing.

This day was getting worse for Virgin Fields.

Number Fifty Three Fetlock Street was build as an apartment block, and in some ways it still was. Some ponies lived there, sometimes more than one to a flat, and there was an awful lot of sleeping happening within its walls. The first two floors had been worn into uselessness by decades of partying, hard salts, and lack of maintenance. The third, however, still held some sparks of life. Hardly glamourous, but the stallions who lived there made do. One such stallion was Incognito.

His home was the second door on the left, a little slice of privacy where the lights didn't turn on, the water had one temperature, and the walls had holes. Used to have holes, Incognito was somewhat uniquely gifted at the art of home repair. Also the arts of snuggling, cooking, personal grooming, and ultraviolence. The last one didn't pay the bills, so he settled on providing personal companionship for a nominal fee. It's not whorsing. He had class and standards.

A touch of magic put another bit of kindling on the fire. Hmm. He was running low on fuel, might need to find another client to restock. But that would mean lowering his standards again and turning a quick snuggle. Whatever kept him in candle wicks, he supposed. Wax was reusable.

Hoofsteps. Second floor. They stopped, then started again. The walls were thin here and growing thinner by the day, so hearing a hesitant potential client wasn't exactly difficult. Especially as of the two stallions who lived here, one was out for the day. Incognito put on a pot of tea, threw some blankets over his salvaged and somewhat restored couch, lit a stick of incense, half a dozen candles, and even had time to check his hair twice before he heard the knock on the door.

Time to make some love.

"Hello there, cutie." Oh how her mother had warned her about colts like these. "Would you like to come in?"

"I'd-like-you-to-I-mean HELLO!" The sultry baritone chuckle, the warm and inviting eyes, the smell of stallion and candles, Virgin Fields felt herself lift off the ground and drift behind the absolute epitome of tall, dark, and handsome as the earth pony led her invitingly into his home.

"Would you like a cup of tea? I find it helps when getting to know new ponies." He was so nice, and Fields could listen to him talk for hours. As she stared at his deep blue eyes. Or flank, whichever was convenient.

"Yes please. Also could you read the whole dictionary so I can-" Fields cut herself off, hooves darting to her mouth.

"Not a lot of filter on you. I wonder what else I can get out of you tonight~" His laugh was music, but his teasing was going to drive her over the edge.

A soft quiet settled over the table where Fields sat as she sheepishly looked around the room. Candle lit, with a small fireplace. Not a lot of pictures though, and what was there were only landscapes of mountains and rivers. Windows were mostly closed, blinds drawn for that cosy atmosphere, but probably also for the temperature too. Now that she was warm and comfortable it was easy to remember that it wasn't exactly pleasant outside. Still, a couch, an empty shelf, some patches on the wall.

The kettle started to boil and Professor Fields got curious. She poked her head in to the kitchen, only to see her host had pulled out some snacks from the fridge and was making little biscuits with things on them. He noticed and gave her a wink.

"Not long now. Feel free to watch though, I don't mind." He smiled the kind of smile she wanted to see every morning forever.

"No, I'll get in your way, you know what they say about stallions and kitchens, you know." She beamed, hoping he did in fact know. She sure as tartarus didn't, it was just something her moms said.

"I know mares who say it don't want any biscuits, that's for sure." he quipped back. Oh no! He was still smiling and jokey, but she'd put her hoof in it. Back out slowly, avoid eye contact, tell him he smells nice maybe? Somepony told her stallions like that.

"I sure don't say it, or know what it is, or what I'm saying, did you know you smell nice?"
The look in his eyes changed, they took on a little glimmer of something. Mysterious. Mysterious and stallions are a dangerous combination.

"I'm just going to look at the walls until I think of something nice to say." Fields backed out of the kitchen, into a chair, and then completely.

The walls were certainly walls. All flat and wall like. Structural, that was good in a wall. And recently patched, some of it was a different texture. The first rule of science is to investigate, and so Fields did, putting a hoof to the plaster. The repair was smoother than the original. Not perfectly flat either, it had a little curve in the middle. The paint came off a touch at the edge and she panicked! She'd ruined the wallpaper! Now there was a dark spot-

Plaster isn't dark. She might not know much about building houses but Fields knew that plaster wasn't dark. She lit her horn, toning her normal red glow to a clearer light, and there it was, a dark green spot that reflected. They'd taught her about this in school.

That's changeling goop.

The very charming whorse was a changeling.

And he just came around the corner. He looked at her with that wonderful smile, and those soft eyes, and that perfect chin, and his expression flicked into a sharp glower faster than she could blink.
"I can taste your feelings, you know. Sit down." It was like being scolded by her father, who was about to eat her. "I'll not have made these hors d'oeuvres for nothing."

Fields sat back down. She couldn't escape a natural predator that was times and a half her size and extremely hunky. The hug-pimp had sold her down the river, and now she was going to be food for an emotivore. The changeling slid the tray of tea and accompaniments from his back and onto the table, maintaining eye contact Fields couldn't bring herself to break.
"Have some tea."

What. "What?"

"Have some tea. And tell me your name. Changelings can't eat ponies if they know that pony's name and have fed them. It's a rule."

"Virgin Fields!" She blurted, snatching for the little biscuits like her life depended on it, shoving three into her mouth and chewing with the frenzy of a drowning mare clutching at a lifeline. The changeling chuckled, manifesting a horn with a flash of green fire.

"At least I don't have to skip magic now. Best part of this body, it's got a little bit of everything."
This body?

"Now, miss Fields." Oh no, he was back to looking at her! Better scarf another biscuit, one with the tomato and basil and little bit of cheese, to be safe. "What has brought you to my door?"

*Knock Knock*

"My cup runneth over today. I'll have to ask them nicely to come back later. You've got *all* my attention tonight, miss Fields." Hummunuh.

Interruptions, Incognito couldn't stand interruptions. Especially not with such a bountiful harvest at his table. She was leaking love like a filly with her first crush, plentiful and sweet, and he'd been filling up just from being near her honestly endearingly awkward attempts to not make a fool of herself. Innocence like that was a rarity.

He opened the door to find two mares in bowler hats and overcoats dripping on his doormat. One wasn't tall, the other wasn't short, and he recognised both. Beach and Pick, two of the Comb sisters. Incognito didn't touch the Comb sisters.

"Ey big boy, you gotta nice place 'ere." Beach Comb started, pulling a match out of her coat and putting it, unlit, in her mouth like a cigarette.

"Real nice place." Pick repeated, Beach's words entering her ear and echoing out her mouth.

"Be a pity if some stray filly-"

"Stray filly."

"-Came inside and messed it all up, see?"

"Beach, Pick, always lovely to see you. But you forget, I'm the one who comes inside and makes messes." Incognito smiled while internally throwing them both out the window.

Pick laughed with a hur-hur sound until Beach elbowed her.

"I hear you got a filly inside right now, could be dangerous for a stallion like yourself." Beach quietly menaced.

"She owes the boss." Pick clarified, unsubtly.

"Ah. Well, I'm afraid we're becoming quite close, and I can't have a hair on her head hurt. She might even be my new special somepony, I've been thinking about a herd for a while now and she seems quite nice."

"But you'se a whorse?" Pick pondered. "Can whorses have special someponies?"

"Shaddup stupid." Beach elbowed her not tall sister again.

"Oh no, you're right. I'll have to become a mailpony. Think I'd look good in the uniform, girls?" Incognito posed, one forehoof in the air like a proud statue.

Pick went back to her hur-ing and Beach grasped for a response before clearing her head.

"Look youse, we gotta get that mare outta your house and into the boss' carriage, or there'll be trouble."

Incognito inhaled. He'd not heard a threat in a loooooooong time.

"Is that so, Beach Comb? What kind of trouble."

His smile gleamed like a knife.

"Fields!" called the changeling over his shoulder, "Grab the cups and plates off the table please!"
Virgin fields was confused. Why would he want OHCELESTIA!

A mare in a coat and hat went flying into the room, landing on the table, scattering the nice afternoon tea everywhere, tea set shattering on the floor!

Fields scrambled away from the carnage, as the disguised changeling leapt after her and dropped an atomic elbow on the still recovering mafioso, splintering the table to bits.

The groaning mare rolled onto her side on the rug as the changeling got up and fixed Fields with a dry stare. "I did say, Fields." he chastised. A flick over his shoulder. "Pass me that chair, please."

Fields shoved the chair towards him, pushing it over. The changeling caught it, kept the spin going, and put the legs right into the path of the other mare's swung truncheon! He spun the chair sideways, flicking the baton out of her hoof, dropped it, then spun and bucked both the chair and assailant, sending them flying out the door.

The other mare made to get up, but he quickly donked her on the head with a bit of broken table leg, and as she curled up with a groan he threw the rug over her, rolled it up, and rolled them both out of the apartment, picking up the second one on the way and sending them both in the carpet down the stairs to a chorus of "Oof" "Ow" and the occasional "Argh".

"We'll get you for this, whorse! You ain't seen the last of Beach and Pick Comb!"

"Yeah, that's us!" Pick finished, as they pried themselves out of the destroyed floor covering and retreated into the cold, rainy night.

"What a fun pair." The changeling stretched out his neck. "I hope I see them again. Now, as we are both keeping secrets for the other, I think that's introductions. My name isn't Incognito, but it's what you can call me."

A bit of plaster fell off the wall.

"Damn. I knew that was flimsy, but-"

The whole wall fell down, into the kitchen. The building made a noise that Fields didn't like, and neither did the changeling, Incognito she supposed. Sharing a look for but a moment, the two bolted out and down the stairs, into the cold drizzle. After a moment the building quieted.

"Oh hey, looks like it wasn't so bad, uh-" Fields started trying to reassure her new stallion-

Friend? Co-conspirator? Her train of thought was cut off as the building leaned.

And then fell in on itself, deflating in a heap of bricks and cut corners.

Incognito sighed. "I suppose you have a couch, miss Fields?"

House of Affection Negotiated

Virgin Fields woke up exhausted.

The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and the early morning markets were rich with the sound of "Whaddaya mean, six bits?". The realtor had insisted that it came with "a real splash of local flavour", and "a built in natural alarm clock". Fields had never been taken for a ride before, but she was fast realising what that local euphemism meant. She stared at the ceiling for a while, letting the memory of the previous day play over her. Was it a bad dream? She desperately hoped so.

Which was when the tall, dark, and handsome stallion from last night walked into her bedroom carrying some kind of breakfast food.

"I would have knocked, but there are no doors in here." the changeling smiled. "Potato cakes with sour cream and spring onion, tea that is apparently from Stalliongrad, and a lemon wedge. Should get you back on your feet."

"Thank you? Incognito. Sir? But I uh, didn't have anything in the cupboard. Or much in the fridge." Fields stammered confused as the tray of fried goodness was placed on her lap.

"You live upstairs from a market square, fresh ingredients aren't hard to come by. Normally I would judge someone for the absolute void of that pantry, but you have a solid reason. Not like you eat out every meal."

Fields internally vowed that she would never let him know.

Incognito's face fell to a disappointed deadpan. "You can't lie to me, Fields."

He can taste fear. CHANGE SUBJECT!

"So, how did you um, pay for-" Fields quickly corrected herself. "I mean, get, the ingredients?"

"You mean, did I seduce three merchants for a small amount of produce?" A raised eyebrow. "I have enough money for a while, don't worry about me. One of the benefits of living in a condemned building is negligible rent. Plus, I make my own construction materials when I eat too much."

He wasn't eating! "Oh, sorry, do you want some of my?" Fields picked up her tray and held it out. "You went to all this effort to-"

"I like cooking, don't worry." Incognito waved her off. "Also, I don't eat food anymore. If I have my way you're going to be trying a lot of my recipes so I can live through you vicariously. Now eat before it gets cold."

Fields dived in, surprised at the little bit of garlic. It was warm, it was grease, it was cream, and it went down easy. Her hooves were still heavy from the adrenaline, but her magic still worked, so she ended up laying up in bed while her glow fed her pieces of creamy potato. It took her exhausted mind about half the plate before-

"Hang on, what did you mean, you can't eat food anymore?" A few more pieces whirred in her brain as she shot up in bed. "And you talked about your body like it was new!" The rest of breakfast flew through the air before a mosaic of hasty red and calm green magic caught it and returned it to the plate.

"Ohhh, you can talk without stammering." a gentle tease in that sultry voice that brought a blush to Fields face. "Do you want the actual story or a complete fabrication?"

"The real story."

"Nobody ever wants the fake one, and I worked so hard on it." Not no-pony. "Alright, short version, I'm an extradimensional being in a new body. Not the first either, there was one in Canterlot about fifteen years ago. Since he took my people's traditional name, I went with the alternate one. Plus Incognito fit with being a shapeshifter." He shrugged, like this was the slightly regrettable but obvious thing to do.

That was a lot. A lot of completely ridiculous nonsense.

"You're bucking with me." Fields blurted out before she could stop herself. "Sorry, I mean, that's, wow, you must be so. . . homesick? For your other dimension?"

If Incognito was offended he sure didn't show it. "I do miss both eating food and not having to wear a fake face to stop from being hunted to death for how my new species eats. Those are maybe the top two. Speaking of..."

Fields gulped She'd hit a nerve, and a painful one, she started to apologise, but-

"I've not had breakfast yet." Incognito continued with a waggle of an eyebrow and a husky smile. Not what she was expecting.

"Uh, do you want something from the market, or I could-"

"Virgin Fields, you know what I eat." Incognito changed expressions as fast as blinking, from flirty to serious in an instant. "Now, there are a few ways I can get it, and you need me well fed if you want someone between you and the Comb sisters. Beach and Pick aren't the strongest or the smartest of the bunch, plus their older sister would have their hides if they actually hurt me. Others though, let's just say you'll want me running on a full charge."

"Okay, so, what are our options?" Fields started retreating into the safety of her bedsheets, starting to cocoon.

"Option one, the best one, you enjoy snuggles, smooches, and the genuine coltfriend experience, including home cooked meals, emotional availability, and of course, changing your first name to Plowed." Incognito finished with a smirk and a wink.

Fields grasped for words, only finding a few strangled sounds as her mouth opened and closed, trying to work in place of her brain.

Professor Virgin Fields, Canterlot scholar extraordinaire, researcher and scientist, had no idea what she was doing when it came to stallions. Normal ones, at least. To her, the average male was an undiscovered creature from a distant country on a test she hadn't studied for. However; dangerous monster-colt stallions with hearts of gold and loins of fire that previously only existed in a fringe section of the erotica section she had read several guidebooks for. Time to try a line, she thought.

"Oh no mister lustbug, please don't eat my virginity!" Clutching the covers tightly to herself, she gave the sexy predator in disguise her best come hither look.

Seconds passed as those words hung in the air.

Incognito was a consummate professional. He'd heard things from reasonable to extremely cringe inducing in his months of work as a professional comfort provider. One mare had even asked him to dress up as a changeling and pretend to drain her love in the most sexual way possible. But he was also a child of the Internet, and very familiar with bad hentai dialogue. And like this, said completely seriously, in the actual situation he found himself in?

"BAH HA HA HA HA HA HA~!" He was on the floor before he knew it, mask shattered, rolling about, clutching his sides. He couldn't breathe.

Fields couldn't breathe either, she'd tried her best and it got her laughed at, like every other time she'd tried a suave line on a cute colt. She was going to die alone. The blankets, coaxed by scarlet magic, started to form a protective burrito around her as she tried to climb inside her own skin and die.

The sour taste brought Incognito back from his euphoria with a pang of guilt. He crawled up and onto the bed, pulling down the blankets to find a teary Fields morosely looking back.

"I'm sorry, Fields, that was horrible of me to laugh." He booped her snoot. She blinked in surprise, her magic flickering off and giving Incognito a chance to start to unwrap her from her fortress of blankets. "Would you like a hug?"

Fields sniffed. "How many bits?"

That almost hurt, but he supposed it was fair, considering how they met. "For you, free, an all you can cuddle buffet. Consider it my rent." Incognito held out his hoof. Fields hesitantly, still red around the eyes, reached out for it, but faltered at the last step. Incognito closed the gap, and gently pulled her into his chest, nuzzling the top of her head. "See? Nothing but snuggles now, as far as the eye can see."

Fields didn't know where to put her anything. One hoof was around him, sure, but the other just kind of lay there, just out of proper snuggle reach. She experimented for a bit, is it more comfortable here, should she try to reach out for him a bit more, is it safe to reach out for him, would he think she was going to molest him with the hoof she couldn't reach him with, how do stallions?

"Mwah."

Oh no

She'd been smooched. Her first smooch and it was in a pity cuddle. and on the top of her head. Did that count? How do you count them? Do you count them?

"Mwah."

Another! She was up to two now. Fields decided to count them, just in case she needed it to prove that she wasn't a kissless Virgin anymore. Maybe write it down somewhere, like a notebook. Proper notation and research documentation was important to-

"Mmmwah."

Three was a pattern! Fields' brain recognised that, but not why it was important. Also she was just thinking something about a research journal. Then there was a third impact. Of kisses. Brain function has shut down, please restart.

Something squeezed her hoof. It was a hoof. Another hoof. Incognito's hoof. He proceeded to gently tousle her mane with his snout as he traced little circles on her frog. Fields felt something leave her body, but she didn't care. She slumped against a large hunk of stallion as he placed smooch after smooch on her mane, She tried to turn to face him, but he just kissed her nose.

He booped her snoot with a smooch!

Fields didn't know that was legal. His eyes sparkled with a little bit of mischief.

"Feeling better now?" She was feeling bad? Why would she be feeling-

Oh. He laughed at her excellent line. She deflated. "I'll never get better at talking to colts. I always say the wrong thing, and they laugh at me."

"Hey, it's alright." A hoof started to stroke her mane. "Here's part of the deal. I'll help you. I'm pretty sure I don't count as a colt, so even if you aren't good at talking to them, you can be good at talking to me."

"Yeah?" Fields sniffled.

"And then you can use that as a base point to work on the more complicated side of your own species. Like how you need to know math to work on physics."

That made sense. Total, perfect sense. Why was she so tired? "You'll do that for me?" she yawned. Getting out of bed seemed like an impossible task, and the blankets were right there.

"Hoof to heart, Fields. Now, get some more rest. Last night took it out of you."

"Mhmm. Would you cuddle me as I snooze?" Consciousness was quickly becoming optional.

Incognito didn't answer, just helped tuck Fields into bed, and lay with her as she drifted off.

Hours later, but not many, Incognito was once again at the markets browsing for produce.

"Woooooooo colt, show us how those legs chase!" A catcall from behind him, glancing over his shoulder revealed a trio of mares in hard hats, two earth ponies and a pegasus, sitting on an i-beam suspended over some recent construction. One of them was making some kind of gesture with her hooves that was lost on the less than original changeling.

Hardly the first time he'd been called out to like this, Incognito struck a pose; one back leg stretched out, glance over the shoulder, tongue doing a little blep. The whooping reached fever pitch before one of the earth mares fell off their unsafe seat and the pegasus had to dive after her. Incognito wasn't worried, this world seemed to work on cartoon logic sometimes, the worst that mare would've gotten was a comedic bump on the head unless she landed in a garbage skip.

"Incognito."

Incognito had to fight the urge to jump and bolt. He knew that voice. Like it'd seen nonsense once and decided it wanted no part of it. Normally it'd be a pleasant surprise, but given the circumstances. . .

"Honey! Good to see you, you haven't been around in a while!"

Honey Comb was the enforcer of the Comb syndicate. A slab of granite carved into the shape of a pony, painted a dark yellow, and given a brown mane and tail so dark they were almost black. Finished with thick eyeliner and a presence that couldn't help but be noticed. Word on the street was that her triple hexagon cutie mark wasn't for beekeeping, it was for keeping the drones in line.

"Your house collapsed."

A mare of few words, she was a regular. One of the weirder ones too, she'd regularly stop by to just watch Incognito go about his business at his apartment. Not even in a sexy way, she just sit on his couch while he did the dishes in the other room, or tidied his shelves, or read a book. "The peaceful domesticity" she'd said she wanted. Incognito had a feeling she learned as many words as possible so she could speak less of them.

"My kitchen wall gave way. Thankfully I was out at the time." Technically true. "I'm not working for a while, until I can stop sleeping on my friend's couch and find my own place again."

Honey looked perturbed. She *loomed* perturbed. It was hard for her not to.

"But, if you're free, how about a market date?" Incognito sidled up to her unmoving form, giving her a little hip check. "I need supplies, and you are an excellent negotiator."

"Lead on." Honey pronounced.

Privates Investigations

Virgin Fields had slept in.

For the first time since she was a teenager, she was groggily pulling herself out of bed, head full of fuzz and body full of carbs. A wonderful dream had visited her, where a tall, dark, and handsome monstercolt told her she was a good filly and that she could have all the headpats she wanted. Maybe she should stop leaving noted to Luna under her pillow, the moon pone was retired now, after all. Some things one didn't want to have to be subject to dreamer/dream princess confidentiality.

Fields stumbled into what passed for her dining room/kitchen/living room combo. One wall had a stove and countertop, one wall had a new-ish crystal TV she'd splurged on, one had a the only door in the apartment, and the last had a table sat against it, under the window. That wasn't there before, Incognito must have moved it. Fields briefly tried to remember if she'd given him the tour, but given that there were three rooms including the toilet/bathrooom/laundry, he probably didn't need one.

Moving on autopilot, Fields made cereal then wondered why.

"Huh." she said aloud, staring at the full bowl. Blinking slowly.

*knock knock*

Speckled Lens was a mare on a mission.

"I'm a mare on a mission," she narrated herself, "and that mission has led me here. Through the dark streets of Manehattan and to this tenement door, hot on the trail of a suspect, a red hot stallion whose legs I've been chasing for weeks."

Lens took a moment to ruffle her feathers, humming an approximation of a noir clarinet solo. Waiting at the door, she took out her notebook and used the dangling pencil to chalk down the cool line she just thought of.

"Keeping a journal of my movements, so the guard can follow up once I've scooped the facts. The girls in gold do a fine job, but they don't like muck on their armour, so muckraking's my job. My other job. I'm a detective."

The door opened to reveal a very tired looking Virgin Fields, holding a bowl of cereal in her magic and struggling to hold a serious expression on her face.

"I was greeted with a brown mare, little below average height, unicorn. Coat looks dull, mane looks like wheat. The kind of mare that could disappear in the countryside for as long as she liked. Looked like she hadn't slept in weeks, and the bowl of cereal she was holding..."

Detective Speckled Lens realised she had just said something ridiculous, and that she had said it aloud.

"Oh, sorry ma'am, bad habit. My name is Detective Speckled Lens, I'm a private investigator. Ain't got nothin' on you, don't worry, I'm just going door to door."

That was a lie.

"May I ask a name for the record, so I know where the reward should go if you can provide helpful information?"

Fields ears perked up at reward. After her research grant dried up money started to get a bit tight. It'd only been a week, but her planned expenses dried up after another month and a half. That wasn't nearly enough.

"Ah, it's Virgin Fields. Professor at the Canterlot League of Investigative Thaumaturgy."

"C.L.IT., hey? You must know your way around Canterlot to find yourself there." Lens smirked.

The joke had been done to death. Princess Twilight Sparkle's C.L.I.T. was only accessible with a university degree, hah hah. Fields didn't laugh. "I'm a research professor of Harmonic Chemistry."

"Really now? Must be on something interesting, Professor, but I won't talk you ears off. I'm on the lookout for a stallion."

"You won't find one here." Fields was quick to answer. Lens raised an eyebrow, but she continued. "I mean, I didn't go hire a hug whorse and then his house fell down so then I let him crash on my couch."

"That's awful specific."

"It was uh, a dream?" Fields put on her best "please believe me" face. It wasn't very convincing. "The whorse was a also a changeling who made me breakfast and then I slept in." She couldn't stop. She tried to stop, but her mouth just started running and wouldn't stop.

"So, a changeling made you cereal?" Lens pointed to the floating bowl. "At three in the afternoon."

Fields knew the gig was up. She never had a gig before and it was up before she could get into the groove of having one. "No." she said sadly, hanging her head. She was about to divulge more, but-

"It's alright ma'am, no need to continue. Culinarily gifted changeling whorse aside, have there been any other new stallions around? I'm looking for one who might be in trouble, see he's gotten mixed up with some rather nasty folks and I want to give the opportunity to get out while the getting's good."

Fields took her way out by not putting her hoof back in her mouth. "Oh, no, other than him, there hasn't been any others. Mostly single mares here, these apartments aren't big enough for a herd."

"That's what a lot of the others said too, don't worry. Just getting as many eyes out as I can, you know?" Lens smiled, disingenuously. "Still, a bit strange a changeling taking up the professional comforter route, especially out this way. Last I heard they were all bright colours, figuring out the magic of friendship in a country of their own."

"I didn't uh, I didn't ask him. He looked just like an earth pony, but I found his gooped wall and he transmogrified himself a horn to serve cheese and crackers."

Lens' notebook hit the ground.

"He was in disguise?"

"Yes?" Fields was panicked. The cereal bowl sloshed dangerously as she reared a little back.

"As a pony?

"Is that uh, a problem? Maybe he wanted to blend in?"

"Redeemed changelings don't shapeshift. They also don't build walls with goop. Have you felt tired after being near him for any length of time?"

"I slept in? A bit?"

"He's fed on you."

"He also made me breakfast!" Fields blurted out. "He's actually really nice!"

"How long have you known the changeling." Lens had focused, carefree detective face was well and truly a thing of the past.

"Since last night?" The last word came out as mostly squeak.

"I'm going to have to call this in, Professor. This is a serious problem if there are dark changelings still roaming around unrepentant. You stay here, and don't let your new friend back in, no matter how nice he seems."

Fields was now 90% panic. She flailed around for something, anything that would keep Incognito out of guardspony hands. He might have been the only stallion that showed her any kind of affection, but more importantly he knew about her connection to the Combs! If he told the guards she was back to magical kindergarden forever! Princess Twilight abolished jails to make that the punishment for things like this, and it was horrible!

"Uh, uh, look, a distraction!" Fields pointed frantically behind the detective.

Speckled Lens whipped around, following the shouting and the pointing, then did a double take. "Did you just say, look, a dis-"

And was rendered unconscious by a bowl of Celesti-Os.

Incognito was having a good day. Honey Comb had been her usual self, towering, threatening, intimidating anyone around her who wasn't familiar with that being just how she existed. A combination of a go-getter attitude, a wink and a smile, and a large mob enforcer standing behind you with her most winning death glare does wonders for snagging a killer deal.

She had tried to pay him, but he wouldn't have it.

"Nope. This time is free, Honey. Besides, you have saved me half my grocery bill today, that is more than enough. Spend it on something that makes you happy."

She'd just looked at the bag of bits, then tried to hand it to him again.

"I am." Deadpan voice, dead neutral expression, the happiest she ever looked outside of Incognito's couch, where she reached the Nirvana-esque heights of somewhat content.

"Oh, am I a thing then? You wound me." Incognito joked.

"*We* should be." For a mare of so few words, Incognito had to admit sometimes she was smooth with them.

"Off with you before you make me blush. I'll send you a letter when I get situated again, and find a new couch."

Honey's eyebrows raised and lowered at a glacial pace, in her approximation of a waggle.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

Incognito made sure to give her shoulder a tail flick when he turned. Felt her eyes on him the whole way until he was around a corner. A part of him wasn't happy with having to hide that he was rooming with her number one target, but letting the only other pony that knew he wasn't one himself out of his sight wasn't high on his list of priorities.

A few wrong turns and a bit of idle wandering got him back to Fields' apartment with saddle bags full of fresh produce. The milk on the floor was new, as were the bits of shattered ceramic sprinkled in. A bit of his magic swept them into a corner to go hopefully unnoticed, before he readied himself to throw Beach and Pick down more stairs.

The door was locked. Not unusual for this part of town, but a small hurdle. Incognito spat in his hoof and let the goop harden for a moment before jamming it into the lock. A little time and he pulled it out with the shape of the key quickly hardening. A little magic to trim the edges from his specialty and only bit of magic he knew kinda, telekinesis, and it was a perfect copy that would only break sometimes. He blew on it for luck, turned it in the lock and it clicked open.

Success! This time.

"Darling mine, I'm home!" he sang out into the tiny apartment, opening the door like he lived there. "You wouldn't believe the deals I got at the market, and I met a friend, and why is there an unconscious mare tied up on your only chair?"

A frantic Fields was busy wrapping her in blankets. "Uh, she somehow learned you were a monstercolt?"

Incognito walked through the door, and kicked it closed with his back hoof.

Author's Note

~~I found a punchline, and wrote a joke to lead to it. Enjoy it in place of a longer chapter.~~

Two wizard students, in the course of their studies, found a strange artefact.

It was a desk of elemental power, connected to the heart of each of the four great powers of nature, water, wind, fire, and stone, through each it cycled.

In one moment it would burn like a newborn star, then seven heartbeats later it would be carved from the deepest, purest stone, and seven again it was formed of the waters of the deepest seas, then seven more and it blurred into a gale given form.

Every seven heartbeats it changed, in this eternal cycle. The students argued its meaning, tested its capabilities. Was the seven heartbeats important? The cycle of elements changing in such a predictable pattern? How then did the desk of air support their books? They could feel the heat and cool, it wasn’t purely cosmetic.

They resolved to ask their teacher, an old wise mare with more doctorates than wrinkles and arcane might to spare.

The students dragged their old mentor to the desk, espousing their theories and the majesty of what they’d found. When the wizard came upon the flaming, then deep earth table she smiled softly, then said aloud.

“Ah yes. My old project from my researcher days. I wanted to show each part of nature as part of a demonstration, so I made this periodic table of elements.”