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The Dark Mare Rises

by NotARealPonydotcom

Chapter 10: Ch. 9---Catmare and Batmare vs. Evil

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Chapter 9
Catmare and Batmare vs. Evil

~╠╦╣~

"-police are keeping quiet about the rumored return of the Batmare, but eyewitness accounts certainly seem to suggest-"

Filthy Rich muted the television. Flim, his assistant, looked up from his cell phone.

"Spike says that the Batmare intervened, but did no damage."

Filthy did not looked relieved.

"What about the drakes they arrested."

"His exact words were, 'they would die before talking.'"

At that, Filthy got up from his chair and strode across the room. Now he was relieved. Spike was a nightmare, to be sure, but if their was one thing he could keep, it was confidentiality.

"Where does he find these guys?" the stallion wondered aloud.

Flim shrugged. He didn't now, and truthfully didn't care to.

"Well, all the same, pop the champagne bottles," cheered Filthy, stepping into the next room over . He turned off his TV, done with the Batmare for the night. He was in a different kind of mood. "And let's get some mares up here, come on!"

"Careful what you wish for," whispered somepony nearby, and something flew out from inside the doorway. Filthy was flung against the wall of his office, and the figure, which turned out to be a mare in skin-tight black leather, pinned him to the wall using one of her heels...from a shoe that was on a hind leg. It was impossible, yet somehow the mare was managing it. She leaned in, her face hidden by a mask.

"Wassa matter, silly? Cat got your tongue?" she purred.

Filthy took a moment to realize that the mare pinning him to the wall was none other than Pinkie Pie, or, as some ponies called her, the Catmare. He had heard stories of the bubblegum pink pony's heists, and observed her form from his strange angle. Looking her up and down, he found her outfit just as ponies had described it. He would have been aroused...if he wasn't pinned up against a wall. In the bad way.

"You dumb bitch," he muttered, drawing his eyes back up to meet Catmare's. What nerve this filly had, thinking she could just waltz in here and steal from him. What did she think, he didn't have security? The bodyguards would be arriving any second now.

Pinkie giggled cutely, and said, "That's funny. Nopony's ever accused me of being dumb."

"Yer dumb," he repeated, gripping the heel (which, he saw, was made of steel and pointed like a knife) tightly with a hoof. She responded by digging her heel into his wrist, making him wince and swear under his breath.

"I want what you owe me."

He grinned through the pain. "'I want' never gets-" He stopped when he realized she was pulling her heel away.

"You really do think I'm dumb!" She looked like she was about to cry. She lowered her hind leg to the ground (Filthy swore he saw it re-joint itself into her torso) and looked down at the ground. "You thought that I wouldn't even be able to hear your stupid henchmen sneaking up on me and staring at my flank!" The last words held a warning of anger, and Flim, who was indeed standing behind her with a gun raised (and was also staring at dat flank, as Pinkie had guessed) smirked over-confidently.

"Your outfit is nice," he commented. Pinkie had not turned around. "Your heels, though. Are they tough to walk in?" He gestured at the hoof-wear.

"IIIIII dunno," PInkie sang, smiling down at the floor. "You tell me." She spun and slammed the six-inch steel spike of a heel into Flam's left hoof, causing him to scream. She drew the same leg up and kicked him upside the head, then snatched his gun out of his hoof as he fell to the ground screaming. She turned to Filthy again and pinned him once more, this time pointing the barrel at his forehead.

"Where is it?" she demanded.

"Where's what?" he replied, playing dumb.

"The program I need. The 'Clean Slate'."

"You like playing games, don't you?" he asked, still smiling at her. "Well, how about a scavenger hunt? I sure don't have it, but I'd love to see who can get it first."

Pinkie hissed at him, and turned her head at the sound of the bodyguards making their way into the room. Filthy sighed.

Finally, dammit! he thought. Where the hell were they?

Pinkie seemed to be prepared for this, though. She spun him around and held the gun against his head, trotting towards the window (he staggered; they were both on hind legs). The guards didn't advance on them, but they didn't back down, either. That wasn't what Pinkie wanted, apparently, and she kicked again, this time at the glass window, shattering it instantly. Then she tumbled backwards out into the night, taking a terrified Filthy Rich with her.

He had time to think, OhmyCelestiathepsychobitchisgonna-! before hitting a window cleaning platform below. She sliced a rope, and the platform went sliding down the length of the building. They hit the bottom, on the roof of the lower part of the complex his penthouse was on. She threw him over onto the roof, and pounced onto him.

Dazed, Filthy Rich took a moment to reorganize his senses. He felt something like claws digging into his chest, and noticed the position Catmare was in atop him. The thought occurred to him that there were ponies in the world that would pay for something like this. All she needed was a whip.

"Where is it?" she repeated.

He pretended to think for a moment. "The 'Clean Slate'? A program that lets you type in a name and a social security number, then erase anything that the person's ever done?" He grinned up at the mare. "Sounds a little too good to be true, doesn't it?"

"You're lying!" she hissed. "I know it was taken to beta testing."

"So did I," replied Filthy. "So I bought the company. But it was nothing. A gangland myth."

The pink mare stepped off of him, thinking hard. He savored he worried expression.

Chew on that, he thought. Chew on it, and tell me how it tastes when I sic Spike on you, you psycho bitch.

As if his thoughts had triggered their appearance, armed ponies (and drakes, he noticed) arrived and began firing at the mare in the black uniform. She sighed, dodging the first shots, and pulled Filthy back up off the ground. She found herself using him as a body shield for the second time that night, and pointed the gun at his head, once more on her hind legs.

"Stay back!" she shouted, looking at the emotionless faces of the guards. She dug her claws into her captives throat when they kept coming towards them, eliciting a gurgle from the business tycoon.

She felt something warm trickle down her gloved hoof.

"I'm not bluffing!" she insisted.

"They know," growled somepony to her left. "They just don't care."

All eyes moved to the source. Without warning, the Batmare leapt from her hiding spot in the shadows, causing one of the goons to spin towards her, gun raised. Catmare took the opportunity and tossed Filthy aside, leaping forward and slicing him in the face with her heel. The two black-suited mares ended up back-to-back, with a bleeding, unconscious gun-dragon lying next to them.

"Who are they?"

"You like games? Here's a hint: rhymes with Pike."

Catmare rolled her eyes, and lunged at the next dragon. Batmare followed, and the two became a flurry of different martial arts lashing out at the goons attacking them. One by one, the attackers fell, and Catmare was impressed by the energy within the Batmare. She'd never really seen the vigilante up close, and thought about asking for some tips later. She saw three dragons heading toward her, and raised the gun she'd stolen, ready to unload on them. The Batmare stopped her, though, tearing the Glock out of her hooves and tossing it over the side of the building.

"You're joking," she protested, kicking a burly stallion in the gut.

"No guns," she growled, knocking a pale white pegasus who looked like he'd been on steroids for years to the ground easily. "No killing."

"Aww, you're no fun!"

The Batmare responded by leaping to the edge of the building, turning back to her as more dragons (there were no other ponies, and Catmare suddenly realized they were part of Spike's little army) gangedup around her.

"Come on!" she growled.

Catmare followed, knowing that she couldn't handle the added artillery from Spike's hoard. She reached where the Batmare had gone, only to find that she'd leapt off the edge of the building. She hesitated.

Cats don't fly, you know, she wanted to yell.

A bullet whizzed by her ear, goading her to jump anyway. She leapt, and fell a mere three yards before landing on a smooth metal plate. She realized that an enormous metal aircraft (one she'd seen the Batmare in when looking at Filthy's penthouse, what, five minutes ago?) was hovering above the ground, waiting to be piloted into the night. She slid into the passenger's seat, and tried to hide her relief.

"My mommy told me to never get into cars with strangers."

"This isn't a car," the Batmare pointed out.

~╠╦╣~

As they lifted off, Spike came striding out onto the roof. He and the Batmare made eye contact for a brief moment. Then the Bat flew off, leaving the masked dragon unmoved by the enormous gust of wind that came off the Bat's rotors. His claws were gripping the sides of his jacket.

His eyes seemed to say, "See you around, pal."

~╠╦╣~

Batmare made sure that the EMP pulse disabled any electronic equipment nearby as she landed the Bat on top of a skyscraper in midtown Ponyville. Catmare slid out of the passenger seat, and she followed, taking a moment to admire her outfit--she seemed to have a flair for the dramatic.

"See you around," she said playfully.

"You're welcome," Batmare replied.

"Everything was all right before you came along," she insisted.

"Those were trained killers," the Batmare asserted. "I saved your life. In return, I want to know what you did with Rainbow Dash's hoofprints."

Catmare smiled slyly. "She wasn't kidding when she said 'powerful friend', hmm?" She sighed, and admitted. "I sold the prints to Filthy, then his dick henchman stiffed me on my pay, then I went to get it myself, then I got caught, then I went out a window, then you showed up, and we fought a bunch of bad guys, then-"

"Why did Filthy want them?" Batmare interrupted.

"He seemed pretty fascinated by the whole stock market thingy." She smiled again. "But what do I know? According to leading sources, I'm a dumb bitch."

Batmare was about to say she didn't think Catmare was dumb when a police copter zoomed overhead. Thankfully, whoever was doing lookout must have been tired, because the copter passed by the Bat without noticing it. After a brief seclusion into the shadows, she moved back into the light, and turned to Catmare.

"Miss Pie-"

There was nopony there. The pink mare had slunk off like a cat.

"Huh. So that's what that feels like."

Next Chapter: Ch. 10---The Next Few Days... Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 19 Minutes
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