Spike had written "Butterscotch" a note with Twilight present:

Dear Buttercup,

Sorry I won't be able to make our date this afternoon. I got into a scrap with a local mare. I'm okay, but I don't think you're going to want to see me like this. Right now I'm not sure what I want, so I'll just get back to you for next time. Please understand. Hope I haven't made you mad.

-Rainbow Dash

To say Buttercup was angry would have been an understatement. She sat in her empty living room, fresh tea by her side, as Derpy took off from the outside. Her face was unreadable, her golden wings fluttering in irritation.

"Why am I not surprised?" she said, looking up at her servant Ironhoof, who was standing by the door.

"Do you want me to get her?" he asked. "All you have to do is ask, and I'll have her here tonight."

"No," she replied, her voice cold as she took a sip of her warm tea. "Not yet. I want you to see what she's really doing first and tell me."

"Understood."

Ironhoof had his instructions now and would carry them out with great obsession. He stripped himself of any regal attire, his mortar & pistil cutie mark being the only thing that would give him away to the pony who had only seen him once. Without the butler suit, he looked like a gray, aging Carmel. He threw some dye on his coat and mane, only to look twenty years younger. He changed his color to blue, his mane to jet black; he would now blend in. The secrets his brain contained, however, definitely set him apart from the average, muscle-bound stallion... his knowledge of chemistry and biology was greater than Twilight's, as was his knowledge of torture... naturally.

The carriage brought him to Rarity's boutique. He entered the boutique, casually, like any customer would.

"Welcome to the Carousel boutique!" Rarity exclaimed. "Home of the- oh, my... do I know you?"

"No," Ironhoof replied, making his voice sound higher than normal. "I'm on vacation, just in from Manehattan..." He began browsing her wares. "I'm looking to make some friends. Do you know of any places where I'm liable to meet Ponyville's top athletes?" He looked back at her and grinned. "I have a thing for strong mares, you see."

Rarity giggled, half uncomfortably. There was already something very odd about this conversation, and she couldn't quite put her hoof on it.

"Well, there is the Running of the Leaves, but that's not for a few months..." she was trying to name general areas, avoiding mentioning Sweet Apple Acres, for her friend's sake since this stallion aleady seemed odd to say the least. "There's the local gym and bowling alley, just across the street, other than that... Ponyville really isn't equipped for athletes. You're liable to run into them while they're using their skills to help make this town a better place. Other than that, they make for themselves, really, and have always been fine with that."

"You've given me a few ideas, Miss Rarity," Ironhoof replied, picking up a yellow sweater. "Thank you. I'll purchase this." Rarity began ringing it up, Ironhoof placing the Bits on the counter before the item was even tallied up. "Do keep the change."

"Why than- .... hold on just a second, I haven't told you my name yet. How did you know?"

The stallion paused, looking down at the sweater... thinking quickly:

"Is this the one I really wan-" He looked up. "Oh, uh, yes you did. When I came in, of course. Not to mention, this place is a rather famous. I read about it in your local news paper before coming in."

Rarity paused for a moment. She had been too shaken by this stallion to retain how she had introduced herself, she looked down at the Bits he had given her.

"Sir, this is just a twenty bit sweater! You've given me six times as much."

"I can afford it," he said, tying the sweater around his waist, hiding his cutie mark with something local and trendy. " I enjoy supporting local businesses... it's good practice. I support Sweet Apple Acres back where I hail from, because it was here when Ponyville was founded, and I even support Miss Buttercup's Home Made Goodness... I meant Homegrown. Oh, wait... do you remember which it is?"

"I think it's Homegrown, but I know what you mean," Rarity responded, with a fake grin. "Thank you for your business, sir."

"You are quite welcome." He glanced back at the exit. "I'm afraid I simply must be going. I've got much sight seeing to do... do you know of any local camera shops, maybe those which could zoom out far to get a good look at things like birds or the Ponyville bell tower?"

"There's always Photo Finish's emporium of-"

"Ah, Photo Finish is here, too!"

"Now, I didn't say that." Rarity chuckled. "But her shop carries many state of the art cameras, the same ones used at my fashion shows."

"Splendid!"

Rarity belched inside her mouth, hiding it with a grimace.

"You have a... most unusual accent, sir. It sounds more Canterlot'ish than Manehatten. I can almost hear both, as well as Ponyville."

"I studied abroad, surrounded by all sorts of rich characters." Ironhoof smiled, showing a few wrinkles hidden under his disguise. "I can even speak the Prench tongue of the Griffin! Would you like to hear some?"

"Unfortunately, it would mean nothing to me," Rarity looked towards her Inspiration Room. "I must get back to a commission I'm working on. Please understand."

"It's no trouble at all." He smiled. "Have a nice day."

"You too, thank you."

Ironhoof turned tail and started walking towards the door. He glanced back briefly to see Rarity's eyes were still on him. He smiled again, then opened the door... leaving her shop.

"Guess it takes all kinds," Rarity said, shaking her head as she retreated into her Inspiration Room.

It wasn't hard for Ironhoof to find the camera shop. Everything in this half of Ponyville was set up in almost a giant circle-like grid, the Golden Oaks Library more towards the center. He got a map at the library from, of all things, a baby dragon... though he was hardly interested in hearing about how a dangerous reptile ended up in Ponyville. He then got a camera and shades, asking the disinterested mare behind the counter the same battery of questions he asked Rarity, only to get less useful information (he still paid her twice the amount for the items, telling her he thought she was attractive). Iron Hoof knew just the right level of discomfort to inject into his interactions -- he would keep others thinking he liked them, and that he had his own interests irrelevant to his reasons for actually being there... and he kept talking just long enough so the pony would get exasperated. The right level of charming, the right level of aggression and annoyance. They would want to forget about him, he wouldn't have to tell them to.

He checked out the local Fitness Center, only to see fat, middle-aged mares on treadmills. He knew this was no place for Rainbow Dash -- a sinewy built, class athlete Pegasus with likely unparalleled stamina. He checked out the bowling alley next, stallions made way for him and, carrying the shades and camera, he was able to blend in with the photographers taking snap-shots of the Bowling Leagues. He looked down each alley and stopped once he saw Rainbow Dash, all by herself, her nose bandaged up... and two sets of initials on the scoreboard:

AJ and RD

"She was not not lying about the fight," he muttered. "Her nose is clearly broken."

He sat down and watched as an orange farm mare approached with three caped fillies. The scoreboard changed to include:

AB, SB, SAL

He shook his head. The initials SAL conjured pictures of a movie made thirty years before he and Buttercup had seen in the theater when she was just a teenager... a film with dangerous artificial intelligence in space slaughtering stallions in their sleep to complete its mission. How he longed for the simpler times when just a movie was just enough to captivate her imagination... he at least could relate to SAL still.

He sat and snapped pictures. Of Rainbow Dash, of "AJ", and of the three fillies, all interacting with their rainbow-maned friend. They bowled five games and didn't once notice him.

Two hours later, the scoreboard switched to just the initials of the three fillies, and the two mares turned tail from the bowling alley. He remained seated, watching them as they prepared to exit the bowling alley. Once he was sure they were leaving he got up and followed them.

Ironhoof kept his distance as they walked, moving further and further away from the center and more towards the isolated outskirts of town. It was starting to feel like home to him, familiar... as though he were approaching Buttercup's estate on the other far side of Ponyville. They were headed towards the clock tower when the stallion noticed a pink mare with a curly mane and big, blue excited eyes barring his way. Behind her she had a wagon.... she was staring right at him, not moving.

"Excuse me," he said, in a low voice.

The mare let out a dramatic gasp in response, pulling a cord on her portable machine. She began to bounce around him:

Welcome, welcome, welcome! she began to sing. "A fine welcome to you!"

His eyes were focused on the prism tail of Rainbow Dash, quickly drifting away. He would not lose her. He looked around to see no other ponies but himself on the street.

I say how do you- GAH!!!

As the pink mare bounced in front of him, Ironhoof gave a quick jab to her cheek. She fell down, out cold... the music continued to play over the unconscious Pinkie. He stepped over her and continued to follow the two mares.

The two had almost fallen out of sight. He was back on their trail, still keeping up a respectable distance. They stopped a mere twenty feet from the clock tower and sat in the grass. He watched as the farm pony put a foreleg around Rainbow Dash and...

Buttercup is not going to like this, he thought as he snapped photos of the two snuggling, then Rainbow Dash kissing this farm pony on the cheek.

He had enough to prove a point to his mistress, yet he still sat... snapping pictures of the tower and the mares. When they finally got up -- thirty minutes later -- he continued to follow them, now towards a distant farm house: Sweet Apple Acres.

He had never set foot on the actual farm, but he had been honest to Rarity in saying he supported it. He enjoyed their Sweet Apple cider. He kept up his distance, continuing to look like a tourist. The two ponies never looked back. Applejack was used to tourists occasionally coming on to the Acres, and Rainbow Dash was too thoroughly invested in talking to Applejack to care. Once the sound of ponies talking was distant, and the breeze covered up by the canopy of apple trees, Ironhoof could hear a few words:

"Applejack, I don't know if I really want to give us another chance... I mean, I really like you as a friend and all."

"Well, I can promise to try to find more time for ya, Rainbow," Applejack replied confidently," but that's all Ah rightly can do. I'm not about to abandon ya... it's just running a farm is tough."

"Well, if you're really serious I'll think about it."

"I am. Ah rightly am!"

They made their way to a clearing where they again sat in the grass. Ironhoof continued to watch them from a distance, too far away to hear, but not to see what they were doing. He sat by a tree, hidden in the shade. The two kissed, this time on the lips, and Ironhoof was sure to snap a picture of that.

"Ya like filly-foolers, huh?" a voice said from about ten feet behind him. Ironhoof got up and turned around. He was facing a stallion a bit larger than himself, bright red, anger showing in his green eyes. "Ma sister's entitled to a little privacy with her marefriends, don't ya think?"

"I'm just out taking pictures of your trees," replied Ironhoof, coolly. "They're very fine trees, don't ya think?"

"Give me a break. Ah've seen you following them, I've been watching you watch them, and Ah don't rightly like you." Big Mac smiled. "Ya seem almost like you might be a pervert. We don't take too kindly to that type around here."

"Please, sir... I didn't realize what they were doing until a seconds ago when they kissed. I figured the couple would add ambiance to my pictures. I had no idea they were a literal-"

"Expose your film here, then, and I won't expose you. All will be forgiven."

"But I have important work photos on here! I can't do that."

"Expose your film here and I won't expose you," repeated Big Mac. "Do it now or Ah will buck your brains out, then do it for you."

"I'm not exposing these photos," said Ironhood coldly, in his real voice. "And if you try that, you'll end up on your porch in a shoe box, I can assure you of that."

"Is that so?"

"A promise."

Big Mac's lip twitched as he stared at the stallion. He started digging at the earth.

"You're lucky Ah don't want to spoil ma sister's fine day," he said. "We've been telling her to take more time off... if Ah catch you here again, though, I'm gunna kill you. Like physically kill you, do you get me now?"

"Thank you," Ironhoof said, again in his disguised voice, picking up his camera. "A good day to you, sir!"

Ironhoof left the acres, tail between his legs... looking defeated, although he was not. He got everything he needed in just one day... that was enough. He made sure to reenter town far enough away from where he had struck the pink mare. Nearby was the post office, where he put forth a telegram, bound for his mistress:

"Do you know where this address is?" he asked the gray mare. "It's quite important that you get this to her in a timely fashion."

"I went there earlier!" replied Derpy. "I'll have it there even faster than before."

"Excellent."

Now all he had to do was wait... with luck the carriage would be arriving within two hours. He made sure to hug the camera snuggly.

An hour later he saw the carriage approach. He left the post office and took one final look at Ponyville. Right above him, on a small cloud, dangled a prism-colored tail.

She's napping. Hopefully that's how I'll catch her.

He made sure to snap one final picture.

"How do you want your revenge, mistress?" asked a cleaned-up Ironhoof, back in his normal attire. "I'll do anything you tell me to."

Buttercup looked over his pictures. They were perfect... too perfect. Their perfection was maddening to the aging entrepreneur.

"Shall I modify the blunderbuss into a more proper scattergun, fit it with a silencer and blow her out of the sky while she naps?" he asked. "If she survives, she'll never fly again. She may even not walk. Mobility seems... rather important to a mare like her. It will destroy her."

"I want her alive," Buttercup said. "And in one piece."

"Do you want her here?"

"She accepted my invitation then blew me off to be with another mare," Buttercup said, sneering. "Of course I don't want her here."

"Shall I hurt somepony she cares about then?" He looked down at the picture of the two ponies together. "Perhaps make this mare lame?"

Buttercup looked up at him.

"Then they'll be able to spend time together. I want you to make somepony disappear. Be creative."

"I think I can make you quite happy."

"Then by all means do it."

Ironhoof nodded.

"As you wish."

Author's Notes: