“Are you sure you’re gonna be alright?” Dee asked, looking absolutely adorable in her pale yellow sundress; her public identity kept semi-anonymous with sunglasses white straw hat, bedecked with flowers… Of course, hiding her identity was hardly something we were concerned about in our front driveway. Not to mention, the amulet I proposed to her with was just barely contained under the dresses’ bodice.

“Honey, you’re pregnant. I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard!” Thankfully, all the guards were out on patrol, so our conversation was somewhat private; so nothing stopped her from groaning in annoyance.

“Leona, I’m barely over a month pregnant!” She genuinely was getting annoyed, and I didn’t understand why, really. “Remember when you were nine months pregnant giving crowd-moving speeches and presentations? That time with the changelings, I was genuinely scared you were gonna go into labour!” I just rolled my eyes with a smirk, gently holding her shoulders.

“Alright alright, message received.” I said, and her scowl finally turned upward. “You’re a strong, powerful mare. I respect that.” I kissed her on the cheek and whispered in her ear- “But two things I will never apologise for: is taking care of my family, and being worried about you.” She finally conceded with a sigh, smooching me on the cheek. We pulled back with our gazes locked, sharing a much more passionate kiss.

After a few moments, she snorted and chuckled.

“What? What’s so funny?” I asked, and she rolled her eyes.

“Baby, I’m literally just spending the afternoon with Silver Spoon. You’re the one who still has to pack for the Zebra trip!” Which was true- but I still worry! She put a hoof on the bottom of my chin- “Syl is gonna be there, and I’ll have my bodyguards no more than seven feet away at all times. Besides, with the money you’re pouring into that doctor, what the hell could happen?” I just smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

“Don’t worry. I’m cooking something up to deal with that issue.” Since I hired the doctor from Equestria, he forced me to sign a contract stating that he wouldn’t be subject to the Common-Sense Healthcare act of ‘25, allowing him to charge whatever he wanted for services… No expense spared for my wife, of course- but maybe expense recovered. No expense spared, all expense recovered. Heh-heh.

“Drive safe!” I said, seeing the valet pull up in her personal car. It was hot pink and almost resembled a Cadillac, save for the lack of back seats; something we’d have to fix soon. If my car was like a big 20s style SUV, her’s was like a 20s equivalent of a hatchback, with the lack of backseats leaving room for a proper trunk. The convertible roof was popped down, since it was almost summer and they’d be driving in the city, anyway.

On my way back in to pack up my stuff, I slapped Syl on the shoulder casually; Dee would be driving her own car, and Syl would be riding passenger to get her whatever she needed. Her new assistant was still attending basic driving courses, nevermind the proper methods of defensive driving I taught my wife. Despite having a weaker engine and my wife being a chronic Sunday Driver, she can pull off a great bootlegger’s turn. Hell, the back of her car even has a deploy-only hydraulic shield which shoots up at the press of a button; it also had a wedge cut near the top to act as a spoiler, and the window for seeing through it was reinforced with new bulletproof safety glass.

It’d destroy the roof if it was attached, but I’d much rather let my wife’s bodyguards take care of a potential situation. The emergency features were simply a way for her to cover her tail while she gets the hell out of dodge. She knows how to keep an eye on any potential tails, and we even did a couple practice runs late where I genuinely lost her!

But anyways, back in my bedroom, I was ready to start packing!

I grabbed my bathrobe from off its hanger, sitting on my haunches and throwing it on my back. I sniffed the cuff and smelled fresh detergent; a peek out my window revealed my wife’s tailgate, followed by the black four-griffon security car. It was meant to resemble a standard car, but with an extra-spicy engine, steel-plated siding, an emergency pop-up roof… and an early prototype for a submachine gun.

It used guncotton as a propellant, which is a step up from black powder and a step below the top secret stuff. The problem was that it was just a little inconsistent; and when you’re talking about guns, NO! For safety, it was only transported with one thirty-two round double-stack box magazine. The reason being: if the chamber gets too hot, there’s the odd chance of magazine cookoff, aka, KABOOM! It was also designed with the idea that if it had to be used, it would be used quickly and put away.

Its silhouette was designed to look like a sawed-off lupara, which is a common glovebox piece, with black paint and finish purposefully chosen to further obscure it in the dark. A simple pull-back wireframe stock with a rounded butt was used to replace the chopped down wooden butt; the magazine is simply attached to a folding hinge and locked in place by the wire stock. And further adding to the genius of the design, the entire length bottom “barrel” was fitted with a custom-made flashlight, featuring three nickel-cadmium batteries and a shock-absorber to protect the bulb; and finally, the charging handle consisted of a small knob, knurled around the edges for grip. The barrel was technically short, too; to keep the form-factor, the mechanism is actually inside what appears to be the gun's barrel.

Only five were made and being tool-room prototypes, they had to be made with hand-fitted parts. For repairs, we’d have to send the gun back to the guy who built them. So, the doctrine for this gun was simple; let’s assume some shit goes down, and you’re chasing down some prick in the dead of night. The guy in the front reaches in the glovebox and unfolds the gun, handing it off to the guy behind the driver's seat. Then the other guy in the back undoes the latches on the ceiling, wind-resistance launching the hatch on the roof open. Finally the gun guy will stand up on the seat, and unload on the belligerent driver, trying to score a quick, dirty hit. The gun is closed bolt, so the ejector kicks the cartridges out of the right side and a deflector helps keep most of the brass within the car.

Much easier than just going at the guy with revolvers, no? With a respectable fire rate of about 700 rounds per minute with only a moderate amount of recoil from its mid-size chambering of modified .38 Wynnfield Short, the five squads of four men were easily able to pick up on its operation and doctrine… the most important part of the doctrine being the subtlety of its use.

… Or, subtle as a FUCKING MACHINE GUN! I got to test fire it on some old car someone ruined by money-shifting it, and I say this with no shame: I think I creamed myself a little after mag dumping this random crap-car, gleefully watching the wooden panelling splintering, glass shattering, tires bursting, and the test-dummy(A wooden barrel full of water) getting riddled with holes… Anyways…

Speaking of guns, I’m steadily leading in the arms race between Equestria and I, helped by me allowing bullshit patents to “leak” into Equestria, further slowing matters as the crown commissions pony physicists to “figure out” how to make one of those hand-actuated grenades work. They have, however, recently discovered a sort of percussion cap system likely based on the concept of a primer. Who knows? With just a few more barrels and a bit of creativity, they could probably convert their handgonnes into some weird pepperbox-on-a-stick contraption. And if leaked intel is correct, that may actually be true; besides that, it wouldn’t surprise me if someone somehow smuggled a revolver or two out of the country.

Big whoop. All it’d take is a single factory to field a small army with a proper submachine gun; even something as simple as a Sten-gun clone made of stamped metal and mattress springs would outclass their current arsenal. Hell, I still think I have the better trained military, having supplemented the heavy, unwieldy rifle with a single shot .55 Calibre pistol; being a break-action external-hammer pistol, it was faster than a flintlock, while remaining cheaper than a revolver. As for the rifles, they’d be replaced soon enough and besides that, my soldiers need to be used to wielding large rifles. Even their uniforms were modernised, being unarmored and simplified across the board, with dark or neutral colours replacing the gaudy armour of the previous rule. The helmet was kept too- though its efficacy is a little questionable, all things considered.

All this to say… I fucking love guns. But aside from that?

It was a beautiful fucking day, and I had no intention of “packing.” I got people to do that for me. On a day like this, quietly writing in my journal by the side of my private pool was the only goal I intended to accomplish.

Clink!

The sound of my lighter flicking open was like a pavlovian response I accidentally trained myself into. I wasted no time popping the cigarette in my mouth, lighting it and nonchalantly flicking the lighter closed. I took a deep drag, my bathrobe having been delegated to a seat cushion to allow me to really soak up rays. I literally couldn’t get a tan, of course- it just felt nice, is all. My sunglasses and wide brimmed hat were all I needed to get cool and comfortable; even better, the underground pool-pump gave off just the right amount of white-noise to help me think clearly. The water was clear as crystal, shimmering in the sunlight like—-----------------

“Don Grimfeath-”

“FUCK!” I jumped in my seat, startled by Tonio seemingly popping up behind me and making me accidentally drag my pen across the page. I held a hand to my chest and tried to control my breathing; as a regular part of my household, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut while I brought myself out of fight-or-flight.

“What… Haaah… Wh… What?” I asked half-incoherently, unwilling to bother scolding the guy for a dumb mistake. He gave me a sheepish grin.

“I apologise, Don Gr-!” He started, but I put a hand up.

“Skip the preamble.” I said plainly, and he nodded. “It about that thing I asked you? With our friend, the Doctor, I mean.” I asked, and smiling when he nodded his head.

“I talked to the guard detail you assigned for him. He’s really taken to the casinos in his downtime, which he seems to have a lot of.” My smile grew, and I chuckled. Next to me was a garden table with a phone with a retractable cord, an envelope, and an empty glass of iced tea. I thumbed through the envelope and handed Tony a few bills when I had a thought.

“Any chance you could bring me back a whiskey?” He cocked an eyebrow… then shrugged. “You did great, by the way.” I added as he went to fetch my drink. Meanwhile, I had a job for Adrian. Nothing time-sensitive, of course- but simply put, it was a plan to recoup certain losses which I found to be… exorbitant.

—

Meanwhile, Dee was sitting on the outdoor patio of a high-end coffee joint, right in the heart of the New Featherworth district, where modern skyscrapers filled the skyline. She was with Silver Spoon along with her guard detail, awaiting her new assistant.

“So, the big guys in coats… A little overkill, no?” Silvie suggested, causing Dee to roll her eyes.

“Oh, believe me. I thought I was gonna have to fight Leona to be let out of the house!” She quipped with a laugh, “She means well, but fuck!”

They both shared their first laugh in what must have been years.

“So what brings you to our wonderful Syndicate?” Dee asked her politely, getting a shrug in response.

“Same reason everypony else does: opportunity. Of course, it’s also been getting harder and harder to make jewellery or silverware for the upper classes, and those cheapskates would probably accuse me of treason if I dared raise the price to make up for an increasing overhead and shrinking margin.” She shrugged, half-looking over her shoulder. “Even among regular ponies, you don’t know who to trust anymore!” Dee nodded, having been keeping as close an eye on Equestria as Leona has.

“You badmouth the government to the wrong person… Best case scenario, you get the wall. Worst case, you’ll be sent to a mining camp.” Dee giggled, playfully punching her friend on the shoulder. Silvie nodded, her short ponytail bobbing accordingly.

“Or even better: somepony decides they just don’t like you, all you gotta do is accuse them of spouting anti-crown talk in private to potentially ruin their lives. And as usual, the ponies on top are smart enough to make sure enough money gets thrown around to protect their own flanks from slander.” Dee nodded solemnly, and after a few moments realised something:

“Word of advice- drop the pony-ism’s.” She said, and seeing the confused look on her friend’s face added, “Everypony, somepony, etcetera. Being predominantly griffons, it’s considered rude to refer to them like that.” Silvie nodded in understanding. “Furthermore: the Syndicate is for everyone. There’s plenty of friends to make out here and being accepted into the community simply takes participation; it’ll just make it easier if you cut the somepony stuff.”

“Fair enough!” She said with a shrug. “In fact, I-”

Ding!

The door to the cafe flung open, Syl balancing a tray on her back.

“You would not believe what it took to make sure yours was right!” She joked to Dee, handing her the cup of iced coffee. Silver Spoon got a caramel macchiato, and Syl got herself a black coffee. Dee cocked her eyebrow, however- she wouldn’t dare ruin her appetite with the wrong drink, and waited patiently for her assistant to recite the contents of the order. “A twenty-four ounce coffee brewed with, specifically, East Minosian coffee beans, five ice cubes, each measuring an inch cubed and no more- though they’re probably shrinking slowly by now, two and a half pumps of caramel with exactly one ounce of skim milk, and then there was the sugar, goodness!” She rattled that off with a smirk and a deep breath- but Dee was still waiting expectantly.

“The sugar?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“That’s the part that took the longest; that fuckin guy just kept eyeballing the scoops and overfilling them. Finally, I just told him to get outta the way and made it myself. Three level tablespoons.” she concluded, Dee taking a long sip of her drink.

“Fuck, that’s good.” She said, pulling a couple bills out of her purse and forking them over. “You’re good. Thank you.” She said plainly, basically telling her to fuck off without a single word.

“Wait!” Silver Spoon gasped, her eyes widening upon seeing the necklace Syl was wearing. She froze mid step, almost stumbling as she stopped. “Can I see that necklace?” She asked, filling her head with all sorts of alarms.

‘Keep calm. Everything is alright’. She pulled it off and politely handed it over. A loup was pulled out of Silver Spoon’s purse and clipped on to her glasses, allowing her to examine it up close.

“Ah-hah!” Silver Spoon exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. Despite the primal fear the outburst made her feel within, she remained calm outwardly. ‘Fuck. Fuck. How have I already been discovered? How? I’ve barely even started, FUCK!’ her internal thoughts raged on as she mentally prepared to be outed. Silver even examined the liquid within the glass, swirling it experimentally.

“My Grampa Quicksilver made this piece!” She exclaimed loudly, handing it back to Syl. “Though I can tell it’s been modified to have the original quicksilver taken out of the glass. Er, mercury, that is.” ‘So that’s where this thing came from?’ Syl thought to herself, throwing it back around her neck with a giggle. She couldn’t show it, but the subsequent relief of having a false alarm debunked manifested itself only in a casual smile.

“Probably for the best. Mercury is poisonous, if beautiful.” Dee shrugged, and turned to Silver Spoon- “In fact, isn’t that what drove your gramps crazy?” Silver Spoon just shrugged, apparently nonplussed about it.

“We’re pretty sure. But when he died, I was so young I can barely remember him." She then turned to Syl. “Seriously, thank you for not just getting rid of the whole thing. A lot of people did that, or replaced the vial with a gem or something; never seen one that was modified to to contain water like that!” Whether she wanted to or not, Syl was part of this conversation, even for appearances sake.

“I know! I think it preserves the artist's vision, that way.” She said, “My grandfather bought it to propose to my grandma. They passed and my Mother had it modified at some point.” She then shrugged- “Now I have it!”

Silver nodded. “I appreciate that. I really do.” but just when she thought they were done, she asked- “You know who did the modifications? I was wondering if I know them or not!”

Syl just shook her head. “Not a clue. Mother never bothered to tell me, I never thought to ask.” She shrugged.

“I get it, I get it.” ‘we done yet?’ “Honestly though-” ‘FUCK!’ “If you weren’t wearing it, I’d offer to buy-”

Ah-hem…

The sound of Dee clearing her throat distracted Silver Spoon for only a moment.

“Anyways, we’re done here. Please, take a seat!” She spoke in a demanding yet calm tone; the threat existed not in what she said, but how she said it.

“You need anything, let me know! Either one of ya!” Syl waved at Silver Spoon, and she waved back with a warm smile. As she walked to a nearby set of tables, she heard her master’s voice, half-whispering to Silver Spoon.

“I know you can’t resist the sight of those sweet flanks, but we’re burning daylight!” Thankfully, the verbal sexual harassment was tolerable enough, even if it disgusted her somewhat. ‘For a married woman, you think she’d have the decency to keep the catcalling to herself.’

She sat at a nearby table, pretending to read: in reality, her ears were listening intently for anything she could use for her real goal.

Finally out of earshot, she let out a faint sigh of relief when she finally felt in the clear.

—

“So hopefully, if the Doc is a degenerate gambler like I think he is, then that’s how I’ll recoup my losses there.” I explained to Emmie, who popped in unannounced to sit by the pool with me. He wore a red and white striped swim shirt… for some reason. “The casinos can kick you out if you’re acting like a problem gambler. But how about a high-stakes poker game consisting of rich socialites, hosted under the table for privacy’s sake.”

However, Emmie’s known me for a long time.

“So you’re gonna let him dig his own hole and sell him a ladder at a premium?” I just shrugged cheekily. “Hey- no one forced him to get into gambling debt, eh?” With a nod, we both shared a laugh.

“That’s right! Adrian will just happen to stumble across him at just the right moment- hey, how’s it going! I see… fuck it, you get the point. Smooth-talk him until he’s gambling his car-key away.” I just shrugged, taking a sip of whiskey.

“Rob him without a gun!” He joked, playfully punching my shoulder. “Oh, by the way- I’m joining you on that trip to the Zebra lands tomorrow.” I had the glass to my mouth to take a sip… then paused, before continuing with the sip.

“How come?” I asked- not opposed, but curious.

“Hold up, give me a sip.” He said, using magic to float the glass out of my hand… but as soon as it got close, his nose upturned.

“Ah, I assumed that was sweet tea in your glass.” He spoke flatly, glancing upward. “Really? It’s one in the afternoon!” I just shrugged, not in any mood to be judged right now.

“By the poolside on a summer day!” I defended.

“Yes; At one in the afternoon.” He reiterated, and I waved him off.

“Look, I’m not an alcoholic, not anymore. I’ve changed, I’m practically an entirely different griffon from that fuckin kid I was.” I beat it a long time ago. So why shouldn’t I have a drink by the pool? I took another sip, and Emmie conceded.

I was barely even on my third one, anyway. Fuck ‘em.

“But anyways… there’s a ritual out there that I wanted to watch. It’s hard to explain, though…” I just shrugged, knowing full-well how his occult shit can be. “That, and I just wanted to hang out with you more.” He shrugged, and I couldn’t agree more.

“Anastasia and Sinan will be along too, though.” He just shrugged and giggled.

“More people to babysit her, then. Besides, with how much she asks about magic, the last thing I’d want is for her to come home with a thirty-mile scroll of questions!” We both shared a laugh.

I finished my whiskey and held up a fist to bump. Fuck it- Dee spends plenty of time with Emmie. It’s my turn for a bit!

Thankfully for the whiskey though, Tonio brought the bottle and left it in the ice bucket. It wasn’t the fuel-grade crap I used to drink, though; this stuff was smooth, the alcohol content being a measly 80 proof. The colour was beautiful with how it refracted the sunlight and had a faint hint of caramel, outshone by the taste of alcohol if you sip it too fast.

I picked up the phone:

“Tonio, ya mind bringing out another glass?” I asked-

“Actually, just a sweet tea with lemon, if you will.” Emmie piped up, and after a few moments, I shrugged.

“Make that a pitcher of sweet-tea, I guess.” I said before hanging up the phone, leaning back, and closing my eyes. It was nice getting back to soaking up sunlight, oblivious to the world around me.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but after a short while, I heard Tonio yell out “Don Grimfeather!” like he was worried about me or something.

“Huh-” I opened my eyes; my chair glowed faint blue. Emmie had a shit-eating grin on his face, and I… was suspended a foot above the water, chair and everything.

“OH FU-!”

SPLASH!

“YOU FUCK!” I yelled, wondering how I got so… so lucky to have a friend like him. I didn’t want to strangle him at all, no sirree! “Help me get my chair out of the water!” Emmie was laughing his ass off… and even Tonio was giggling. I glared at him, the giggles stopping immediately as he listened,

“Tonio, shove him in.”

“Wait wha- AH!” He yelled in surprise as my favourite butler shoved him into the pool the old-fashioned way. Emmie was spitting water out of his mouth when I looked at him with an exceedingly smug grin.

“Now we’re even.” I said, the two of us sharing a friendly laugh. The water will eventually evaporate, but it’d take more than getting shoved/thrown into a swimming pool to break us apart.

Splash!

He splashed me with water, the fuck!

“OH, NOW IT’S ON!” I yelled jokingly, kicking off the war with a water-volley of my own.

Tonight promised to be quite fun!

I have a discord server for this fic out now!! It'd be real cool if u joined :333

Editor's note: i am in your walls
Author's response: real

As always, thanks so much for reading! Likes and comments are greatly appreciated :3