Fancypants was exactly where he had always been, sitting around in the house’s wine cellar, losing himself with company of spirits and booze. He'd been like this for a full week now, just moping around doing nothing in particular. At the very least that was the impression he wanted to give. But he wasn't a selfish man nor was he a boorish slob. If any stallion decided to bar himself from reality and drown in despair, you'd imagine them with piles and piles of empty bottles littering the room, maybe several bags of trash and uneaten food.

But nay, like any true gentlecolt, a more uncommon breed than one might think, he’s kept himself presentable, well fed and his home tidy as to not offend any guests. This guy was such a light weight and goodie-horseshoes that he'd probably get drunk by just having alcohol near him.

There he sat on his heavily cushioned arm chair with a scotch glass on coffee table and bottle of his strongest brandy, still unopened as the day he took it out of storage. Why such an ornate armchair and table was doing in a wine cellar was anypony’s guess. Perhaps it was just his funny way of being depressed.

“I have to tell you Fancy. You got yourself quite a pony for a wife.” When he had said that she was gone, he really meant it. If Fleur de lis didn't want to be found she quite simply wasn't found.

In the end she had come looking for me, fully aware of my involvement with Fancy without anypony that should be in-the-know saying so to her.

I walked over to the room and turned on the lights. I grinned.

He even had a chair prepared for guests. I took a seat and floated the single glass to my side of the table.

“You don't mind?” He gave no reply.

Well... he’s not saying no.

I poured myself a full glass of the old buck courage and downed the whole thing. Nothing wakes you up like a good burn to the lungs.

“Did you find anything?” Fancy said, his voice was monotone, utterly passionless.

“Maybe.” I poured myself another glass. “But you're not going to like it.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“She’s been staying with Blueblood.” At those words I heard his chair creak. I paused, just a little, to measure his reaction. He was calm.

“She’s staying at Canterlot Hotel.” I took another hard swig out of the glass and emptied it.

“Celestia suite.”

In an instant he was gone, deftly rising from his chair and upstairs to the main floor. I distinctly heard the front door slam shut behind him and the clopping of his hooves as he gallops on the city stone.

I let that random moment sink in pouring myself another drink. The bottle was empty now. In acknowledgement this time I took my time with this portion, savouring the flavour and smell. I took a sip and sighed.

“I guess you didn't want to know the other piece of information I got for you.”

**

Blueblood was snoring like the oaf he was, his hulking build postured into foetal position. From the looks of it, he probably hadn't grown out of sucking his hoof either. Fleur took the unfinished glass of scotch by their bedside and drained its contents into the sink. Opening the wardrobe in the room she took out the ballroom dress she had ordered.

“La petite looked so good in that dress.” So Fleur asked Rarity for an original as well. That mare does such fine work. She was a rising star, though she should tone down with the giant hats.

Fleur floated the hat over Blueblood’s snout while she began to appreciate the feel of the satin and silk against her coat as she let the dress ravish and caress her divinely beautiful form.

“Well... I guess I'm all ready.” Fleur walked over to the door. “Hello Fancy.” Her husband was panting hard, probably galloped across the city, no less.

“Fleur I...” It was all he could muster with his breath so completely depleted.

“Follow me downstairs, Fancy. Catch your breath you silly colt.” She said walking past him. Fancy followed close, like a good stallion should. In the elevator Fancy was still catching his breath, breathing hard like he was having an asthma attack.

“I know of Lala’s secret.” Fleur opened her purse and took out her make-up set floating idly around her.

“La Mere’s child... she looks the very image of her. Though I guess she inherited all of your good side.” Fleur took her lipstick and let her lips pucker as she applied it to lower lip.

“How... ?” Fancy wheezed out. Fleur reacted with a wink.

“A little bit of mare’s intuition and a bit of pillow talk. Though I do confess, I had to give up your secret to get the information.” Fancy looks visibly hurt. His wife had been with another stallion and she’s compromised his daughter’s safety.

Lala’s in trouble!

“ Don't panic so much darling. There’s only one stallion that’s allowed to touch me. And your daughter well... ?”

“I have to admit I wasn't ready to share you with anypony. That insult Lala threw, just gave me an excuse not to.” Fleur snapped her purse shut and nodded to herself. There was no need for more make-up. No more masks.

“But then I came to thinking. I've come to realise that I was being as selfish and immature as our little girl.”

“Our little girl?” Fancy said, finally his breath caught up with him.

The elevator doors open.

“She’s attending the hearts and hooves ball tonight.” Fancy gave a puzzled look. He'd been out of the loop for quite awhile. Fleur rolled her eyes. She was right, he didn't hear about it from Red Cross. The foal likely came running the moment he knew where to meet me.

Fleur pecked his cheek, seemingly without reason.

“All the ponies attending are the ones involved in all this.” Fancy’s eyes go wide in realisation.

“We need to hurry then!”

“Not so fast, Fancy.” Fleur stuck a leg out and had Fancy stumbling to a halt.

“A good gentlecolt presents himself at his best. Now let’s get you prepared.” Fancy wanted to protest but there was this knowing look in Fleur. Trusting in her, he relented and followed her to the hotel tailor.

Author's Note

ooooooh shi-