(Art by Bajanic)

“And, you see, ponies say Angel is mean, but he's just such a sweetie.” Fluttershy's voice was wavering back and forth, and her glassy eyes kept looking at every little detail as Renoir carried her to Twilight's room. Celestia was resisting the urge to laugh, and doing a rather amazing job; she'd spent many a night in such a state during her earlier years. She wouldn't want anypony laughing at her, but she had to admit Fluttershy was saying some rather humorous things, only some of which involved her animals. “He's just a little stubborn sometimes, is all.”

“Yes; I'm sure that's it.” Renoir felt like strangling someone, and he didn't quite care who. For one thing, he could practically feel Celestia's shit-eating grin from where he walked. He didn't care about Fluttershy's rabbit, and the princess was only agitating his nerves. Did Reman have to deal with this when he arrived in Equestria? Probably not, but Renoir was rapidly developing a need for the very poison Fluttershy had wasted. “I never should have had that stuff out around you.”

“What stuff?” Celestia asked, looking directly at him. She expected an answer, because no matter what she thought of the situation, the fact remained a man who could be very dangerous had an Element of Harmony under the effects of some unknown alcohol or tincture. Being a vampire certainly did not help Renoir's case.

“Fluttershy drank a special distillation Reman and I manufacture for our own use. It's a good thing she vomited most of it out; the stuff's poison to anyone not resistant enough to hold it.” His words made Fluttershy groan a bit, but she remained calm. Celestia realized she must have had an adverse reaction if the mere mention of it drew a such a negative response from her. Still, she laughed.

“Yes, a vampire and a werewolf making moonshine.” The pun was terrible enough to cause a nearby guard stomach pains, but funny enough for a rather inebriated Fluttershy to laugh until she had a coughing fit. Renoir shot Celestia a flat look, clearly unamused, and nearly losing his grip on a certain laughing pegasus. If she noticed, she either didn't show it, or didn't care.

“Moonshine,” Fluttershy whispered. Her glistening eyes looked at Celestia, then back to Renoir, her face scrunching up like she was trying to fake indignation or humor; he couldn't tell which. As they turned and started up a winding staircase, she started laughing like someone had told her the greatest joke in the world. “T-then I guess I-I'm Fluttershine.”

Renoir resisted the urge to punch himself in the face.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Bitter Springs knew his way around Canterlot. He knew who to talk to and how to talk to them; it was part of his job as a Lunar Guard. During his time in the Solar Guard, which ended four weeks ago, when he was moved to his current assignment, he was always on castle patrol. Princess Luna, however, had him out and about, as all Lunar Guards were expected on such a regular rotation schedule. It gave him some peace of mind, especially because his route was the calmest in town. At the moment, his partner was at the hospital, waiting for his wife to deliver, which left Bitter Springs alone, not that he minded much.

The Midnight Market, despite its name's unfortunate implications, was one of the safest places in Canterlot at night, though it was practically abandoned during the day. Patrolling here was basically walking around and making sure everypony got along fine, making it simpler than the normal market district. He usually had free time one his hooves, so he figured he might as well take care of some things while he was in the area; The Midnight Market closed at dawn and his shift ended just after. His eyes darted between the shoppers and the stall; actual stores were in the business district, but they usually weren't worth browsing when the Midnight Market was open.

“You, guard!” A vender yelled from her stall, pointing to him. He recognized this one, a mare by the name of Jubilant Jewels, who was Canterlot's little secret when it came to fine jewelry. She didn't like stuffy building, so she and her sister worked the markets, and made a small fortune. “You seem in thought; perhaps there is something I can help you with?”

“Actually, yes,” He replied after wondering how she knew he was looking for a gift that told Glade he knew she and Reman were hiding something, but that he was fine with it, within reason. If they were secretly serial murderers, then he would have to attempt to put a stop to it, but if they were planning to run off and start making fine cheese and live in some fancy villa in Prance, then he only asked they take him with them. “I'm looking for something for either a wedding or foal shower.”

“You're not the first, sir; I assure you.” Sir? That was the first time since foalhood somepony hadn’t mistaken him for a female. “Now, I assume this is for a friend and not a lover, yes?”

“Yes ma'am.” Again, she was on the money, though that one could have been attributed to some stereotype about his appearance, but it was equally possible she had seen him with his ex-coltfriend around town.

“Jeweled or not?” She asked, and Springs had to think for a moment. Glade never showed any particular interest in flashy things, least of all jewelry of any sort, but he needed something to go on. It was a safe bet that she wouldn't like anything more than metal.

“Not, please.” In response, Jubilant Jewels pulled out a display case full of tiaras, anklets, and necklaces, all made by hoof and stunning in their own ways. Some had intricate vines, others bore scenes of wildlife, and others still had intricate, geometrical patterns etched or woven onto their surfaces. She set down another case, this one containing similar pieces, but made of gold.

“Just tell me when something strikes your fancy.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

“You couldn't pick the other shoulder?” Reman asked, pressing a wet cloth over the bite, which was right over its predecessor. He and Glade were in their suite's attached shower, cleaning themselves before actually going to bed. The smell of diluted blood was heavy in the steamy air, and it didn't really help anything. He wasn't angry, just mildly inconvenienced; there wasn't even any pain.

“I already said I was sorry about that.” Glade did her best to look serious, but it was rather difficult when a naked man was scrubbing her wings. The entire ceiling sprayed hot water on them, so they were both completely soaked. Reman had to keep himself from laughing when he really inspected Glade; she looked, in his opinion, like a wet dog. It didn't help that her features were slightly more canid than other ponies, especially in the face and ears. “I wasn't exactly paying much attention to where my mouth was going at the time.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.” Reman pulled back the cloth and inspected his newest wound, which was still pristine enough to trace back to the culprit. He was worried her fangs glanced off his collarbone for a moment, but then remembered it hardly mattered. They stood in silence for a moment, enjoying their conversation's ebb, before Glade brought something up, something that could have waited until the morning.

“So, you know how Twilight's family is coming tomorrow?” She asked, knowing there was no way for him not to know. Celestia had said as much to all of them, whether she had meant to or not. Personally, Reman wasn't looking forward to seeing Shining Armor again at all, but Cadence was nice enough. Twilight's parents were unknowns in this situation, but if they raised Twilight, they were probably decent ponies. “Well, she might also contact my parents.”

Reman thought about this for a moment, filling his hands with the odd, liquid soap he found before going to work on Glade's tail. Really, he didn't see how that affected him; he'd be spending most of his time with Celestia, working on her Imperial etiquette. He was still working on her tail's base when it hit him, causing his hand to involuntarily clench.

“Hey!” Glade yelped, pulling away from him. She sat and wrapped both hooves around her wet, limp tail, balefully glaring at him.

“Shit! Sorry.” Reman's mind ground to a halt as the implication set in, not about him accidentally pulling her tail, but about her parents. He had yet to meet them, and he wasn't quite sure pegasi were very tolerant, not if he used Glade's initial behavior as any indicator. It wouldn't go very well if they didn't like the looks of him, and even worse once they found out he was the father of their future grandchild. Or maybe they wouldn't care so much, maybe they'd get along well, or perhaps her father would challenge him to a duel to the death for besmirching his daughter's honor.

“Relax; I'll make sure my dad doesn't hurt you too much.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Bitter Springs went about his rounds, gift safely in his pack. While he was not quite sure what Glade would like, he used the silver necklace she wore as a base for his purchase. It wasn't a necklace, of course; she already had that one, so he got her a rather decorative, silver anklet. It was nothing special, and lacked the necklace's wolf imagery, but there was something to be said about plain silver. He resisted the urge to hum a tune as he walked about the Midnight Market, thinking he had indulged enough for the night, and not wanting to draw too much attention to himself.

A bloodcurdling scream echoed from the row of houses just beyond the market's edge. Springs's ears locked onto the target, then his eyes, then his entire body readied for a sprint. He shot up a magical flare meant to alert other guards to the situation and call for backup. He threw himself through the house in question's door, which had been slightly ajar. Bitter Springs had been a guard for four years, and he'd seen a good bit, but he wasn't prepared for what he saw.

A mare, who must have been the one who screamed, sat by a loveseat, looking up the staircase. It didn't take a genius to notice the trail of blood that started on the ground floor and left a steady track going up the stairs; the pony-sized stain on the wall at the top didn't hurt, either. Springs drew his sword just as other Lunar Guards arrived, motioning for two of them to follow him, and for the others to search the rest of the house. The stairs kept quiet as they ascended, keeping an eye out for anypony who may be wielding a weapon, but devoting their minds to finding survivors. There was a loud crash from the room at the end of the hall.

They kicked the locked door open, and didn't quite know what to make of what they saw. Murders happened, Canterlot had about sixty per year, but this was something entirely different. A pegasus knelt over a unicorn stallion, who may have been either the husband or lover of the mare downstairs. The pegasus had a pale, orange coat, and his eyes seemed to glow a deep crimson in the light from a nearby streetlamp. Springs locked eyes with him, and felt a chill overtake him. The murderer opened his mouth, which had clearly been used to bite into the neck of his victim, and hissed, spreading his wings.

It took only a moment for him to jump through the window and dive to the ground. By the time Springs and the others followed, he was gone, probably using the many alleys to hide his movements. Springs cleared his throat.

“I don't care if we have to turn this entire district upside down; find that son of a bitch!”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

“Bleh!” Fluttershy made the noise just before she tried biting into Renoir's neck, playfully. Apparently, she was imitating the vampires in the stories she'd told him earlier. Celestia looked like she was about to cry; her reddened face was puffing up from keeping air in her cheeks, which occasionally hissed out. She thought this was adorable, but Renoir's opinion couldn't have been farther from it. He used a foot to knock on the door, happy to finally be set Fluttershy down somewhere.

Twilight answered the door, yawning. She looked at Renoir, then Fluttershy, then Celestia, and very promptly woke up. “Is something wrong?” She asked, worried over her friend. She didn't know why Renoir was carrying her, but it must have been important. “Is Fluttershy okay?”

“She's fine, just a little tipsy.” Renoir did his best to smile, but failed anything more than a look of slight unease. It too only a moment for Twilight to notice where her friend’s mouth was, and then she heard a slight sucking noise.

“A little tipsy?” Celestia asked, looking amused. She had a better view than Twilight, and was perfectly aware Fluttershy was just imitating what she thought Renoir did. But she did seem to enjoy it a little too much. Renoir rolled his eyes and pulled her off him with a wet pop.

“Okay; she's wasted.”