Season I Episode 3: Handkerchiefs, a Reference Guide

Music flowed out of the bar like storm surges during a hurricane, forcing everypony around to scream if they wanted their partners to hear them. The building itself was a nondescript cube, with skyward lights of various colors beaming into the night sky from about its perimeter. The line for the club stretched out, beyond the grassy hill it rested on, the plain steel doors of the entrance guarded by the best bouncer in Equestria, Ziggy Stardust, as simple metal letters above spelled out a name.

LA DISCOTHÈQUE ÉTALONS

They stood about twenty ponies from the entrance, with an estimated wait of only thirteen minutes. Coconut stood at the front of the pack, plain lavender shirt cut in a dramatic diagonal at his neck highlighting his violet eyes. Behind him stood, in order, Lucky, Umber, and Written Script. Further back, Rarity stood, hitched to a large black cube on a pair of wheels.

Lucky turned towards her. "Rarity, are you sure you don't want to just give us our outfits now? Coconut's already got his on."

She shook her head profusely. "No, no, no, no, that wouldn't do at all. You might get them," she gasped, " … dirty. Besides, I haven't decided which ones will work on you boys best anyhow."

"How many do you have in there anyways?" asked Script.

"Oh, just about forty." She looked at the other ponies, whose jaws had dropped in astonishment. "What? You don't expect me to go without options? I mean, really, why else would I have invented the Wonderfully Wieldy Wardrobe."

"We know, Rarity," replied Umber, jumping in the conversation, "but doesn't it seem a little … extreme?"

"Darling, there are no extremes in the way of FASHION!" She looked forward, noticing that they had inched much closer to the entrance. "Although, I suppose I should go ahead and have you all change. Can't have you wrestling into your ensembles at the door, can we? So unseemly."

The cube unhitched from her back, and they watched as its featureless faces fragmented and extended outward, revealed several rows of finely pressed fabric constructs tucked inside, hung neatly on a long metal bar.

"Wow, Rarity, that's—"

"Yes, yes, just get in there; we only have a few moments." With an uncharacteristic burst of magic, she levitated the three stallions over towards, took a few glances between them and the wardrobe, and slapped their clothes on.

Written Script found himself in a finely spun, forest green tunic. Adorning his breast was a delicately embroidered, maroon rose that sparkled from glittering thread spun through its design.

Lucky, instead, was in a cream dress shirt and a simply cut brown suit. The shirt's collar was undone, leaving it open and exposing a bit of the blue coat of his lower neck.

Much like what he always wore, Umber's top was a long-sleeved, warmly striped shirt. Added to it, for sake of flair, was a trail of like-colored diamonds that extended from the turn of his jaw down past the lower hem.

Rarity had done it again. The three looked fantastic, fit as a fiddle to get into the most strictly controlled fashion environment in Equestria. La Discothèque was run by a mysterious pony, le Beinfaiteur. All that was known about him was that he was rich, sponsored the club, and had the most draconian dress code since Photo Finish had run her own hairdressing school.

Looking over them, pleased, Rarity nodded slightly. "Yes, those will do nicely. Well then, if you'll excuse me, I shall take my leave."

"Wait," asked Umber, "you mean you're just going to let us have these? For free?"

She grinned. "Of course, dear. And when the other stallions drop dead at your hooves, you can direct them to the Boutique. I'll be sure to make up the costs in less than a week." Noting the increasingly smaller distance to the front entrance, she hitched herself back to the Wardrobe. "And I've got some work to do, so I'll see you when you get back to Ponyville. Tata."

Watching the line shrink even shorter, she began to walk back down the hill, looking back every so often to see the four stallions eventually meet the door and be welcomed in. She sighed … it had been a long time since she'd gone to such an establishment. Maybe she'd go the next time, but she really did have to—

Oh no.

Not that.

Twilight was walking up the line towards the cube, her lavender form graced by a sparkling blue shirt with loose sleeves that Rarity was sure she hadn't seen before. Next to her … next to her was Tolliker, in a black diagonal cut shirt and a matching fedora that made him rather handsome, if still as oblivious as always.

Rarity didn't have a choice, of course. Turning, she raised her head to provide maximum volume.

"CODE PRIST—"

She felt a hoof suddenly silence her, and glared frightfully at its owner. "Twilight," she hissed through the grip, "what are you doing?"

Twilight began to explain. "I'm bringing Tollie to the Discothèque."

Rarity's eyebrows lowered in an expression of malice. "And you think this is a good idea because … why?"

The other unicorn glanced at Tolliker, who was still standing there, curious about what the two's exchange. "Well, since nopony has ever told about the … uh … nightclub, I thought maybe if I showed him it would work better. Make him less ignorant … about the nightclub, of course."

Realization dawned on Rarity. Nopony was ever able to educate Tolliker verbally, so Twilight was going to try it visually.

Smart, but a massive opportunity for disaster, and knowing Tolliker …

"Twilight, I'm not exactly sure that would be the best of ideas … La Discothèque is a bit, ah, unruly at times. I'd rather not see either of you two, hurt in anyway."

The librarian stood, steadfast. "Well, we'll take our chances. I had Celestia get us a pass to skip the line, but it's only good for tonight." At Rarity's second attempt to protest, she offered, "Rarity, if you want, you can come too. The pass is good for up to two ponies, other than me."

"I … you … fine, if you insist." She looked back at the Wardrobe. "But there's still the question of what to do with this."

Twilight put a hoof in her mouth and whistled. A Pegasus guard floated down from above, and hitched himself to the Wardrobe. Rarity blinked. "Uh … one moment, please." Rarity drew a medium length red dress and quickly threw it on. The guard looked expectantly at her. "Uh, to the Carousel Boutique? Please?" Nodding courteously, the Pegasus hitched himself to the wardrobe and ascended.

"Are we ready yet?" asked Tolliker, who glanced impatiently at the other two unicorns.

"Yes Tolliker, I suppose we'll go now," said Twilight. And so the three began their trek to the Discothèque Étalons."

Written Script gestured towards the bartender, a hip young mare with a violently pink mane. "Hey, could I get another Magic Twister over here?" A blue hoof grabbed his hoof and slammed it down.

"No," slurred Lucky, "No, he'll jusht take mine." He took his own glass filled with a milky, electric blue concoction and shoved it over towards Script, who sighed at him.

"You know, I told you that drink was only meant for unicorns. I dunno what it does to you earth pony's brains, but it's certainly not good."

Lucky rolled his eyes. "Yesh, yesh, you've already given me the whole damn lekshure. I'll remember neksht time."

"Good," said Written, "I don't want to have to drag your sorry passed-out butt out of here."

Eyes rolling again, Lucky let his head loll back in an obvious display of drunkenness. He watched the hooves on the transparent platform above him move in rhythmic waves as the music blasted from the booth tucked in the corner of the establishment.
As boxy as the place looked on the outside, it was an expansive circular space on the interior, with walls that gently sloped around the patrons and angled upwards towards the dark skylight above, which revealed a grand display of stars and, on certain nights, the moon itself. Four pillars graced by private balconies rose from the rough corners of the room upward, and they supported the glass dance floor that rested above the round bar where Lucky and Written were now sitting.

His head fell back down, his temples pulsing painfully from both his own intoxication and the booming notes. He looked to his right, at Written, whose purple mane still sloped in that gentle upwards curve around his horn, which glowed with the magic levitating his drink. Rarity's green tunic really set off his eyes tonight.

Those eyes turned to him. "Lucky? You okay?" he asked, after taking an intent swig.

"Yep," he said, still staring straight at him, "perfectly fine."

Written blushed, before turning to stare into his drink. "I … I wonder how Umber's doing right now," he deflected, oblivious to Lucky's growing smile behind him.

Umber stared at the little top hat that rested on the toothpick emerging from the layers of licorice and vanilla drink in the glass. He was at the smaller bar, off the dance floor to provide a brief respite to patrons between sessions of furious movement.

He'd sat here for the past dozen or so songs, though. As hard as the rhythmic beats pumping through the air tried to move him, he found himself lethargic in the face of them. It was odd; he'd looked forward to this night for several weeks, but nothing seemed right. The music was off, the drinks were a tad sour, and all the ponies were disinterested and self-absorbed.

So he just let his gold eyes linger on that little hat. His ear twitched as something odd seemed to enter the music, like a whisper. It certainly didn't fit the music.

It repeated itself, and he drew his head up in investigation, turning to the right. His eyes widened in surprise at the filly next to him, done up in a beautiful mahogany sweater whose right shoulder seemed to be composed entirely of a fabric tree, and whose flowing pink mane fell in parts down her back.

He realized the whisper had been her voice struggling to overpower the music. "Fluttershy! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, just, um, out with Sunburst."

Umber smiled, thinking of the orange stallion who she'd met and hit it off while he had been waiting in line for the rimming competition. He hadn't been able to test his skills, but based on reports from other ponies regarding Fluttershy's post-coitus hair he'd found that they generally agreed he'd been a fantastic lay.

"Really? How're you two doing?"

She blushed, flustered. "Oh, he's wonderful. He's nice, and kind, and he loves animals. He works at the weather factory in Cloudsdale, and he's big and strong and … um … " She trailed off, her blush intensifying and her eyes dropping towards the ground in introversion.

Chuckling, Umber continued for her. "I get what you mean. So, what brings you to La Discothèque?"

Somehow her flushed cheeks grew redder. "Uh … well, Sunburst wants us to, err … share. A stallion. And I … uh, said yes. To sharing … " she petered out awkwardly before quickly changing the subject. "So, what brings you here?"

"Oh, you know, the usual night out with friends. I'm just over here resting before I go back to the dance floor," he lied. He didn't want to tint her night with his own problems.

"Oh, well, who did you come with?" she asked, genuinely curious. He answered, and the two became embroiled in conversation; two friends among a throng of frantic strangers.

Tolliker's initiation of sorts into the club went rather smoothly.

Twilight slipped him into the crowd, while Rarity took a position on an overhead balcony to keep watch of the mass of dancers, and to make sure nothing went wrong.

Surprisingly, nothing seemed to happen. Nopony groped either Twilight or Tolliker, nor did anyone even talk to them. All they did was dance, moving with the flow of the music.

It was rather boring to be honest.

Rarity picked at the red material of her dress. It wasn't one of her best creations, honestly; she'd used it to test whether the Wardrobe collapsed properly without damaging its contents and had simply been too lazy to take the thing out. Oh well … at least nopony would flirt with her while she was in the hideous thing.

A well-groomed Pegasus stallion appeared next to the platform, balancing a drink skillfully on his back. "Your drink, madam?"

She smiled at him half-politely and levitated the drink over to the little table on the platform. "Thank you, sir," she said, with a veneer of civility, before levitating a few bits into the small pocket wrapped around his neck. If he was offended by her rudeness, he didn't show it, disappearing silently and quickly back to the bar.

Sighing, she returned her gaze to the throng of ponies, taking a sip from her drink.

And spitting it out as she saw Twilight waving her hooves desperately up at her, distressed.

Tolliker was nowhere in sight.

" … And then, this is the best part, he dropped the ENTIRE CAKE on us. Macintosh was scrubbing icing out of his coat for weeks."

Fluttershy gasped. "Did you hire him again?"

"Of course," Umber snorted, "it's not like it was his fault; we were the ones who had covered the floor in plastic wrap. Ponet had accidentally gotten the adhesive kind instead of the plain. Not a fun experience. Anyhow, yeah … that's the story of the first time the Cakes catered at one of our events. Not quite as exciting as that time an elephant stormed through yours, I'm sure."

She smiled slightly, embarrassed. "Well … yes, Sir Humphrey does like his peanut brittle … he just got a little exci—"

"Hey, Flutters," interrupted a bright orange Pegasus, dressed in an immaculate gold-trimmed red ochre suit. "Who's your friend?" he asked, turning towards Umber in friendly curiosity, his blue eyes bright even in the dim atmosphere of the club.

"I'm Umber. You must be Sunburst, Fluttershy's told me about you," he said, reaching a hoof out to shake the fellow Pegasus's. "I've heard you're looking for a … uh … partner."

"We were, but I think I've found one. He's right here." He moved aside, revealing a handsome blonde earth pony.

Umber smirked. "Hello, Coconut."

"H-hello, Umber," replied the stallion, a faint blush gracing his cheeks.

"Wait, you two know each other?" asks Sunburst, his eyes flitting between the two.

"Of course," Umber continued, still smirking and letting his voice take on a twinge of smooth suede. "You'll like him, I can say that from … experience." He gave a quick glance at the three ponies, watched as Coconut's blush intensified and spread to the other two. "Anyhow, you three get off. You'll have quite an … active time, tonight. Go on, shoo, shoo," he said; motioning with his hooves for them to leave, "I'll be right as rain here."

Sunburst and Fluttershy thanked him, while Coconut gave him a quick nuzzle, before the three partners weaved their way through the thronging crowd to exit through the double doors.

Sighing, Umber turned back towards the bar; the little top hat was exactly as it was. Nothing had changed. He sighed again.

"Uh, pardon me, but are you Monsieur Umber?" asked a gruff but sophisticated voice, tangling with the Fancy term as if it were a tangy dessert.

Umber nodded in affirmative, not even turning to look at this stallion.

"Ah, well, I have been instructed to collect you. Le Beinfaiteur has asked for an audience."

At this, Umber turned his head to look at the pony incredulously before his mind went completely blank.

Pale, ice blue spikes rose into the smoky air of the club from his steel grey coat, the sharp diagonal of his muzzle statuesque, cutting through the shadows surrounding the bar. His deep blue eyes looked into Umber's with passive authority, his eyebrows a repetition of the decisive diagonals that marked his being. Lips drawn up in a polite but still slightly warm smile, he had the face of a pony who could command a room, who could freeze a crowd with one shout, who could stop a miscreant with one icy look.

Ziggy Stardust, best bouncer in Equestria. As a plus, drop-dead gorgeous. Umber felt his mouth go dry and his legs go to jelly; he'd have fallen over if the stool hadn't been below him.

The bouncer titled his head inquisitively. "Monsieur?"

Blinking, Umber remembered what the pony in front of him just asked. "Uh … le Beinfaiteur? The owner of this place? Asked for me?" His eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Ziggy was calm as ever. "Yes, he is quite interested in making your acquaintance. I believe he has some business for you. If you would follow me, please?"

Business? With le Beingaiteur? This was too good to be true.

Furiously nodding, Umber rose from his stool, reduced to shaking from the presence of the attractive stallion in front of him and the imminent meeting with the most mysterious stallion in all the land. Ziggy turned, elegantly striding forth, the crowd parting before his commanding gaze.

Umber did as best he could to try to follow with the same grace.

"You know, you've got the prettiest green eyesh. They're like leavesh on the ground."

Written rolled his eyes, "Yes, Lucky, perfect metaphor." He had to admit, even with the drunken wooing his cheeks burnt, and his stomach fluttered like butterflies carried on a spring breeze.

Lucky sat, silent, his own blue eyes still meeting Written's, with periodic lapses as his balance failed for a moment, before they again met their mark.

They'd been friends for a while. Since they were little colts on the playground, the two had gotten along, but they had never been incredibly close. Only recently, in the last few weeks, had they begun to hang out more, going on outings with various other mutual friends. This outing had been Coconut's idea—the rum brewer was connected enough that he could get into the exclusive club. So they'd come, expecting to have a good time dancing and horsing around with the other two stallions, enjoying everypony's company.

Now they sat at a bar, Lucky drinking in Written's companionship. In his drunken antics, the earth pony had talked about the investment firm he ran in Ponyville, and how in his spare time he was a sort of art patron. It was how he knew Umber; the artist had received a rather large commission from him, and the two had grown to be friends as Lucky oversaw the final works.

The firm had even helped produce one of Written's plays, Pegasi in Equestria. He'd written it after a rather bad breakup with a coltfriend, who'd left him destitute and homeless. That play had gotten him back on his own four hooves again, back on his own foundation.

He wondered if that was why he had these feelings. Were the Magic Twisters getting to his head, and muddling up his sense of graciousness? Or was it something more?

"You know, I don't ekshpect anything from you," Lucky said, interrupting Written's contemplation, "I know it must be awkward, having an old produsher coming onto you … I'd undershtand if you wanted me to shtop."

"No, that's fine," replied Written, almost too quickly. He turned to look at the pony, his eyes widening as he found their muzzles less than an inch from each other.

Lucky's breath was laced with the scent of fine alcohol with a tint of magic. "It's fine," repeated Written, and he leaned in—

"LUCKY! WRITTEN! CODE PRISTINE!"

Lucky fell back in his stool, and Written turned to look at the two mares now yelling at him, and cursed.

It was going to be a long night.

The ascent up the stairs was swift and quiet. Umber had done the best he could to avoid watching Ziggy's hips sway, and he was thankful when the pony stopped in front of a nondescript door and turned his front towards him.

"One moment, let me check if he's busy." Ziggy lightly opened the door, and Umber heard a snobbish, elegant voice say something about the "rise of the stars" before the bouncer quickly shut the door.

"Ah, I am afraid he is … occupied at the moment. I apologize for the inconvenience."

"It's fine," said Umber, who was still shivering, "I wasn't doing anything anyway."

Ziggy nods. "I am sorry for that as well, it is always a pity to hear that a patron is not fully enjoying the Discoth—wait, are you shaking?" His tight smile dropped to a concerned frown, and he stepped towards Umber, investigating.

"Oh no, I'm fine," Umber lied, "I'm just a bit nervous is all." Who wouldn't be, standing next to you?, he nearly added, but he controlled himself. This was just another stallion … no need to get worked up.
"Ah. I wouldn't be. Your work has been making rounds in Canterlot since the last exhibition. My employer is interested in your … intriguing representations of the male form. He applauds your shamelessness … as do I." At the last remark, the bouncer's gaze dropped for a moment, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly, before he resumed his composition. "I was the guard at the last showing of your work … your command of color and light is incredibly impressive; I've only seen better in the stained glass windows of Canterlot Tower."

Umber blinked at the impassive stallion. "Uh—thank you. I didn't know how well my last exhibition was going to be received. I got a little … risqué with it, I must admit."

"Ah, but it went over pretty darn well, didn't it?" asked Ziggy, his professional façade beginning to drop ever so slightly, his voice beginning to roughen at the edges, become more friendly. "And your models! I heard the Equestrian Post had incredible trouble getting all those letters begging for you to let them pose for you."

"Well … yeah. But I don't take just anypony … I have to know them. I have to know them well, you know? I don't take just anypony. They have to be special … eye-catching, or passionate, or commanding. They've got to steal my heart, for a moment. L-like you did … you would be an excellent model."

Ziggy grinned widely, all pretense of stoicism dropped. "I'd like that," he said, and leaned in to crush his lips against the tip of Umber's nose, his breath brushing the top of the Pegasus's muzzle. He stopped, feeling Umber's own breathing touch his lips, and smiled. "I'd like that very much."

The two held their gaze for a moment, before Ziggy retreated. "I'm sorry, but I'm sure le Beinfaiteur is done now, and he gets upset if I take too long. Please, come in," he requests, using a hoof to swing open the door.

It was an office, clearly, done up in cold blues and dark greys, modern and sleekly composed of circles backtracking on rectangles that themselves backtrack on elegant curves. A desk framed by a slatted window sat in the middle of the space, a stallion with pale blue tinted glasses; a silver streaked coiffure mane sat atop his grayish lavender head.

Umber gasped. "Hoity Toity? The Hoity Toity? You're le Beinfaituer?"

Grinning elegantly, Hoity strode out from behind his desk, holding himself with a regal air to challenge even the Princesses. "Good evening, Mister Umber. I am here to discuss a business deal."

The artist blinked. "O-of course. What would you like to … er … discuss?"

Tilting his head in towards the pony, he continued. "Very simple, Mister Umber. I would like to employ you to create the images for my next fashion catalogue. None of my artists can quite capture the stallion form like you do … and I'd like to use your skill to my advantage. You will be paid handso—"

"I'll do it!" Umber cried.

Hoity smiled in surprise. "My my, such enthusiasm. I'll visit your studio in Ponyville when I get the instructions compiled. Until then, merci, mon petite artiste, et adieu. Stardust, please escort him back into the club. I would have you as a guest longer, dear Umber, but I'm afraid I have some urgent busi—"

A shrill yell began to emanate from the window behind the desk, and Ziggy ran towards it along with Umber. The sound repeated, the words clear as day.

"CODE PRISTINE!"

Umber cursed to Luna under his breath. Ziggy turned to him. "What was that?"

Turning to answer the two ponies, Umber's face drooped in an expression of fatigue. "It's Tolliker. Come on, I'll explain on the way."

It was going to be a long night.

"I still don't see how you could lose an entire stallion. I mean, really Twilight, this was your plan." Rarity was frantic and panicky, who knew how much damage Tolliker could inflict in a club full of horny, excited ponies that would most definitely be out for his hide. More importantly, what damage could they inflict on him?

"I don't know! He was just … one minute he'd just vanished!" Twilight was equally fraught, her wide eyes dancing to and fro as she despairingly scanned the crowd in futile search for the hatter. As it had been for the last half-hour, he was still nowhere to be found.

Written appeared next to Rarity, bags under his eyes. "I've asked everypony I could, nothing. I'm sorry, girls, we're going to have to see the management."

"The management's already here, Written," said Umber, who walked up to the group followed by Ziggy, who was scanning the crowd as well. "Where was he last?"

"We were on the dance floor, and he left my view for a moment," said Twilight, "and Rarity was distracted from her overhead view and now he's gone. We've searched the entire club, no trace."

"It's okay, Twi," soothed Umber, "It's not like—"

"He's in the Souterrain," interrupted Ziggy. "Fancy for Subterranean. It’s the room under the club, exclusive, meant for more … intimate encounters. From what Umber tells me about your friend, we need to get there, and get there fast. Come on," he ordered, turning and swiftly trotting over towards one of the more isolated columns, the rest of the search party following suit.

Upon reaching a section of the club that seemed to be a tad more isolated, overshadowed by one of the tremendous columns, Ziggy pressed a hoof against an otherwise ordinary patch of wall. There was the sound of gears turning, a steady ticking of clockwork, and a square section of the wall suddenly dematerialized below them, leaving them to fall though open air until they struck the soft fabric of what seemed to be a massive pillow.

"Arrêtez-vous!" boomed Ziggy, and immediately several banks of lights flickered on, revealing a horde of ponies engaged in activities that would have made the most experienced gentlepony stallion blush (case in point, even Umber averted his eyes).

"We have a stray patron, here. Where is Tolliker? I know somepony brought him dow—"

"UMBER! Over here!" called a voice, and the crowd parted to reveal a waving stallion, his hat askew and his shirt ruffled.

More interesting, however, was the multitude of colorful handkerchiefs that were half-stuffed into the various pockets of his shirt, tied around his neck, and even attached to his hat. Most were light or dark blue, with a few grey, but thankfully everpony had had the good courtesy to leave out any brown or black. Tolliker looked at the group with pride, thrusting his chest forward to better display his "prizes." "So, aren't they awesome?"

Umber's mouth was open in shock, and Twilight stared on in confusion as Written simply shook his head. Rarity stepped in, "Yes, darling, quite nice. Could you, uh, come back up, please? You gave us quite the scare."

"Oh. Well, I just came down here with these guys," he said, gesturing at a group of confused looking stallions clad in tight leather jackets. "They're really nice."

"I'm sure they are, but … eh … well …." she trailed off, unable to come up with a response in the absurdity of the situation.

"What she means, dear Tolliker," Ziggy cut in, giving a slight wink at Rarity and Umber, "is that Umber has suddenly gotten an order from a very important customer, and he needs to go home and get his rest so he might work on it best he can." It wasn't technically a lie.

"Oh, well you should have just told me. I was just playing Pin the Tail on the Pony with these guys anyways. You should have seen how fast some of them could do it, they're fantastic … " he rambled on, walking off with Rarity, Twilight, Written, and Ziggy towards the lift that led back into the main arena of the club. Umber stayed behind, giving a long hard look at the stallions standing shyly around the area where Tolliker had been.

"You boys didn't do anything to him, did you?" he asked, icy.

A particularly well built stallion flinched scoffed. "Of course not. We would never take advantage of a pony who didn't want it. Who do you think we are, barbarians?"

Umber smiled grimly. "Just checking." With that, he walked off, and the lights of the Souterrain flicked back, leaving the ponies in darkness.

Lucky stared at the deep purple swirls in the glass, silver glitter trailing in lazy circles. It smelled of purple and tasted of night with hints of stars, which was probably why the Constellation Proxy was the Princess Luna's favorite drink. To Lucky, it just tasted like blueberries. Overripe blueberries.

"Hey, Lucky."

The earth pony looked up to see tired purple eyes looking back at him. "Written! You're back. I wash wondering when you'd be back."

Chuckling lightly, Written leaned forward and nuzzled a nose against Lucky's snout. "Yeah. Look, I-I want to tell you that I've been thinking … I think I might like to, uh, try this. Us, I mean." His gaze turned off to the side, a rosy tint blossoming on his cheeks.

Lucky pecked him on the snout and smiled. "I think I'd like that ash well. Now, letsh get home. We can talk more on your coucsh."

Written grinned and stood up, and Lucky rose to join him.

The two stallions strode out of the bar, their shirts ruffled, their manes unkempt, and their tails intertwined.

There was a knock at the door.

Umber rose half-heartedly from his position on the couch, his club attire thrown over the back of a nearby chair, and trotted up towards the door, cracking his neck and pulling the door open.

Ziggy stood in the doorway, smiling. "Hello, Umber."

Grinning back, Umber opened the door, stepping out of the threshold. "Come in. And call me Umby, Ziggy."

"Okay," he said, walking in. "I … I wanted to apologize for the loss of your friend to the Souterrain tonight."

"It's fine, he gets himself stuck in the weirdest of situations. They didn't do anything to him, so it's all good. Twilight's rather disappointed her experiment didn't work out … but you can't catch them all, can you?"

"No, you most certainly cannot," he laughed. "Actually, that is one of the reasons I have come. My employer wants you to know that he might have an idea of what's affecting Tolliker, but he's going to visit the Canterlot Archives to make sure. He'll bring the documents along with his commission information when he visits for that."

"Oh, that would be excellent. That would make my life much simpler. Thank him for me."

"I shall." Ziggy's ears drooped slightly, his eyes not matching Umber's exactly. "As for my other business … I have … I have come to model, if you please."

Umber blinked. "Now? I'm afraid I'm not really in the best of states to pai—"

"No," said Ziggy, his lips drawn up in a tiny smile. "I came to stay the night."

"Ah," smiled Umber.

It was going to be a long night.