Chapter Text
Paintbrush sat atop their horse, her velvety ears pricking at every small scuff their boot made against her hide. An orange-ish pony rode up besides them.
"So, what're we lookin at?" That was thier deputy, Lightbulb.
"See that over there?" They pointed to the burnt-out husk of an old town that made the mistake of not having a Sherrif to protect them. The whole settlement had gone up in flames in a particulary violent raid several months ago. The whole area still faintly reeked of burning wood.
"That's Tacos hideout?"
"I think. Fan's contacts and his investigation all pointed to her being holed up in there somewhere. I just want to confirm any details that he may have missed." I stared at the mound, digging in my satchel for a pair of binoculars. I held them up to my eyes and scanned the ghost town. There. A faint trail of smoke.
"Three and a half fingers above and to to the right of that old pub," Paintbrush called out to Lightbulb, who nodded determinedly and began to sketch the scene furiously. They watched her draw with a smile, noting the way she held the pencil like it was a lifeline, or the way she would turn her head every couple of strokes to look at the trail.
She snapped her sketchpad shut, stowing it in the side pocket of the case to her rifle.
"There we go! Ol Flat-face is sure to get something good outta this!" Baxter, her pony, snorted in agreement. Paintbrush turned their horse around, and she followed, keeping up a steady strem of chatter that they listened to the whole trip back to Inanimate Point.
Once they reached the main street of the town, they handed of their mounts to a stableboy and retrieved their bags before heading to Test Tube's lab. Paintbrush knocked on the door, and a disheveled face with crooked glasses and messy red hair answered.
"Paintbrush! Come in! Did you check out the ghost town? Was there something there? WAS I RIGHT?" Fan kept up his usual livley stream of questions. His black vest was a little rumpled, and his blue and yellow spotted bow tie was off center as usual.
"Fan! Give them space. Also your tie is messed up."
"Easy for you to say, you dont even have a tie," Fan grumbled affectionatley at his partner. Test Tube was leaning on a counter filled with disassembled pistols and bottles of chemicals and gunpowder, wearing her customary grease-stained white button down and coarse black pants. Her lab coat was draped over the back of the chair she never used despite Fan's insistance.
"Come into my study, i can give you the full case files there," Fan said, beckoning them towards an open door.
Fan consulted a few papers on his worn oak desk, gathering his thoughts before proceeding.
"Alright, so according to several eyewitness and investigation reports, Taco should be in one of the old houses along a side street. If you have any proof that she could be there..." Lightbulb jumped excitedly.
"Here! I have a sketch of a smoke trail!" Fan examined the image.
"Yes... this matches perfectly! I know where she's at." He spent several minutes explaining the layout of the town to Lightbulb and Paintbrush before saying:
"You should get some food and go to sleep. Who knows what you'll find toworrow." As the began to walk out of his study and to the door, he called out,
"And good luck! She's slippery." As the duo left the house, they could faintly hear Test Tube yelling at Fan to fix his tie. Paintbrush smiled at Lightbulb, who grinned back. She slipped her hand into Paintbrush's and they walked like that to their house, which was right next to the lab, then parted ways and went to their bedrooms for dinner and then rest.
After all, they needed it for whatever towmorrow had in store for them.