Her Life, In a Pan

by ThatGirl2147

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Berry Punch, Other, Original Character, Slice of Life
Length: 23014

Transsexualism is not easy in this universe, and it's no easier in Equestria. Just ask Pan Sear.

Pan Sear, a cook living in Fillydelphia, has a secret: inside he feels as though he is a mare. Follow him through his journey to "her."

Published 2012-06-06 20:44:03 UTC
Last updated 2012-08-10 04:07:20 UTC

Prologue: "What's Troubling You the Most?"

It was a crisp, Spring afternoon in Fillydelphia: ponies of all kinds filled the streets and sidewalks, talking about innumerable topics, and doing an equal number of activities. At a small, open-air bistro, a light mulberry Earth Mare sat at a table, eating a fresh sandwich. She had a puffy, cerise mane, a tail to match, similarly coloured eyes, and a bunch of grapes and a strawberry on her flank. She was also wearing pale violet saddlebags bearing a similar motif.

After a few minutes of looking around the city block and eating, the mare noticed a particular stallion who caught her eye.

A moderate green Earth Stallion trotted about the park. His eyes were a deep red, he had a full, flowing cyan mane and tail, tied back with black bands, and an “X” formed by a frying pan and spatula decorating his flank. He looked about idly, seeming almost isolated from everypony nearby. A few seconds passed, and the stallion finally noticed the mulberry mare looking at him. Without hesitation, he approached her.

“Hey, Berry,” greeted he in a smooth, almost feminine voice. He wore a melancholy look on his face, but still beamed genuine joy at seeing his old friend again.

“Pan Sear," remarked Berry as she looked the stallion over. Her expression bore as much joy as that of the green stallion. “I haven’t seen you in years; how’ve you been”

“I’ve been doing well,” replied Pan Sear. “And yourself?”

Berry slid a chair out from under her table before she replied. “Not bad,” said she. “Would you like a seat?”

Pan sat down politely. “Thank you,” said he, bowing his head slightly. “Anyway, what brings you to Fillydelphia? I thought you lived in Ponyville.”

“I do, I do,” confirmed Berry. “I was just in town and you showed up.”

Pan gave his friend a condescending look. “I’m not a foal, Berry,” said he, irritated, “you weren’t just ‘in town;’ Ponyville’s hours away by any means of transport.”

“Well, maybe, uhh,” stuttered the mulberry mare, before visibly admitting defeat and admitting, “okay, fine. Yesterday, I was sitting at home, and I suddenly got a craving for one of your Pan Sear Slushy Specials!” She held her head in shame after she revealed her motive.

The green stallion simply giggled at the mare’s display. “You mean to tell me,” began he, still chuckling slightly, “that you came almost halfway across Equestria for a drink?”

Berry looked up, her mulberry face having shifted to a cherry red colour. “Well, yeah,” said she meekly, “but my name’s Berry Punch; it’s even shown by my Cutie Mark that I love drinks.”

Pan began to chuckle again. “It’s okay, Berry,” assured he. “Now, here’s the deal; I’m off today because the diner’s closed, but I’ll gladly take you to my place and make you that drink of yours, eh?” The stallion used his hoof to shift Berry’s attention to him as he told her, “and I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer; you’ve come too far to be denied.”

The mare smiled brightly at what Pan had said. “Thanks, Pan,” said she kindly, “you always were a sweetheart.”

“I do my best,” replied the stallion, modesty defining his tone.

“So, what’ve you been up to?” The mare’s curiosity shone at every question she asked.

“Not much,” said Pan Sear, “just been doing a lot of thinking.”

Berry looked even more curiously at her green friend. “Thinking? About what?”

The stallion sighed heavily. Leaning his head against a hoof, he responded distantly. “Too many things to name, Berry.”

“Well,” suggested the mare, “why not start with what’s troubling you the most?”

The stallion raised an eyebrow. “Troubling me? Nothing’s troubling me; what made you think that?” He spoke rapidly, as if trying to avoid the subject.

Taking note of this, Berry continued, her cerise eyes gazing into her friend’s magenta irises. “Sweetie, I know when something’s bothering somepony, especially somepony I’ve known since I was a filly.” Her eyes shone genuine concern as she continued, “you can tell me anything, Pan; what’s troubling you?”

Pan looked around at the various ponies about the area. “I’d rather not talk about it,” began he, “in case somepony can hear us.”

“Pan,” began Berry blankly, “if somepony’s eavesdropping on us, then they can kiss my flank.” She made her statement plain for anypony listening to hear. “Please,” continued she, the care returning to her smooth voice, “I want to help you; how can I do that if I don’t know what’s wrong?”

The stallion sighed again. accepting the fact, he said, “okay; it seems you’re not going to let it go, anyway.”

“Can I offer you’s guys some coffee?” asked a waiter, a pale brown Pegasus Stallion wearing a stained apron, as he approached the pair from the restaurant. Unbeknownst to him, he had inadvertently made Pan Sear extremely uncomfortable with his presence.

“Yes, please,” confirmed Berry politely. Pan only nodded slightly to confirm.

The waiter nodded and re-entered the building, emerging about a minute later, a platter holding two cups of steaming java on his back. He used his wings to slide the cups onto the table. “There you go, then; enjoy,” said he with a smile before Berry paid him for the drinks and he left the pair alone again.

Berry took a sip of her coffee before she noticed Pan‘s discomfort. “Are you alright?” asked she, clearly worried.

Pan stuttered for a moment before fully answering. “Oh.. I just.. I.. I don’t want that to happen when I say what I want to.” The stallion looked down at his cup, avoiding eye contact with his friend.

“It won’t,” assured Berry calmly. “Now quit stalling and tell me what your problem is.” The mare sounded impatient, but a tenderness in her voice still suggested that she was still very worried.

“Okay,” sighed Pan Sear as he thought aloud to himself. “How do I explain this?” After a few seconds, he looked his friend in the eye and asked her, “you’re physically a mare, aren’t you?”

“Ummm, yes,” answered the mulberry mare, confused. “What does that mean?”

“Let me finish,” said Pan, holding up a hoof. “And I’m physically a stallion, right?”

Berry sighed from confusion. “From what I can see, yes,” confirmed she.

The stallion sighed as he prepared to speak again. “And your, umm, mind is comfortable with your being a mare, yes?”

Berry nodded. “I.. guess so,” replied she unenthusiastically. “What does this have to do with anything?”

Pan’s tone shifted from a nervous stutter to a blank, clear voice one would associate with a hardened soldier. “It has to do,” said he, “with my problem. Your mind is a mare’s mind; content with your body as it stands.” He then looked down at himself as his tone lightened again and he continued, “my mind, however, isn’t so content.”

“So,” began Berry as her confusion lessened slightly, “what you tried to explain to me is that you’re a stallion, but want to be a mare?”

Pan Sear nodded, shame evident in his expression.

The mulberry mare smiled brightly at her friend as she lifted his head with her hoof to face him. “Come on,” said she tenderly. “Walk with me; talk with me.” She lifted his head up further, making him stand on his hooves.

“Okay,” complied Pan in slightly higher spirits as the pair trotted off slowly.

Chapter 1

“So,” began Berry Punch, trotting alongside her green friend down the streets of Fillydelphia, “how long have you been like this, Pan?”

Pan Sear thought about the question intently, his features making it clear. “I think it’s something you’re born with.” He then thought for a few more seconds and added, “I’ve known something was amiss all my life; I just never knew what it was until a couple years ago.”

The mulberry mare nodded at the explanation. “Have you,” asked she cautiously, “told anypony else?”

Pan shook his head.

“Well, why am I the first pony you told?”

The stallion shrugged. “I don’t know; I guess you’re just the first pony who asked.”

The pair had walked for about an hour when they arrived at Pan Sear’s apartment complex. Leading his friend to his apartment, the pair relaxed and the stallion began to prepare the drink he’d promised Berry Punch. The apartment was modest, with a standard, dark carpet and tan walls, with doors leading to different rooms of the small home. The living room was decorated only with a sofa, a small wooden table, and a record player. The kitchen was an open area, only a small wall separating it and the living area.

Between the sounds of crushing ice, corks popping from bottles, and other noises made by Pan’s drink preparation, Berry asked, “so, why haven’t you told anypony else? I don’t know, but I think that that’s a rather big issue that should be shared.”

As if by instinct, Pan replied quickly. “I don’t know. Say, do you like The Red Hot Chili Peppers?”

“Ummm, yeah; they’re okay. Why?” The quick topic change took Berry by surprise, and she could only answer.

“I got their new record,” said the green stallion. “It’s over next to the record player if you’d like to give it a listen.” With that, he continued work on the drink.

The mare shrugged, and trotted over to the aforementioned record player. Under the first couple records, also Red Hot Chili Peppers records, she found the album: a plain white background with an extremely close photo of a housefly lit on a pill that read “I’m With You.” She slid the record from its sleeve and placed it on the player. Dropping the needle, the disc began to spin and the song, “Monarchy of Roses” filled the room.

“That’s got a nice sound to it,” complimented Berry near the end of the first song. “It’s good.”

“Not as good as this,” beamed Pan as he emerged from the kitchen, holding a platter containing two glasses filled with finely crushed ice mixed with a light cyan liquid.

The two ponies stood around Pan’s table as they drank. After taking a drink, Berry remarked, “it’s even better than I remember. Did you go and change the recipe on me?”

Pan smiled at his friend. “Not at all; I guess the wait made it better.”

“Or,” suggested the mare, “maybe it’s better homemade.”

“I don’t know. I’m just glad you enjoyed it.” Pan noticed that Berry had left little more than a few traces of ice in her glass.

Berry’s mulberry face began to noticeably shift to scarlet. “You know you spoil me, right?”

“I do not. I just gave you what you wanted.” Pan took Berry’s glass and put it with his own in his kitchen sink. “After all, you did come this far just for one drink; I should really have made you two. THAT would be spoiling you.”

The mare giggled as she slid her saddlebags onto the table and reached a hoof into them. “So, how much do I owe you for that drink?”

Pan Sear held up a green hoof. “None at all, Miss,” said he staunchly. “I only accept payments at work; your bits are no good here.”

The pair shared a laugh at the remark. After a few seconds, Pan spoke again. “So, when are you scheduled to head back to Ponyville? You must’ve taken a train or something.”

“Oh, yeah,” said the mulberry mare in realisation. Producing a ticket from her bag and reading it, she explained, “yeah, the train back to Ponyville’s set to depart in about an hour.” She then nodded to herself and, as she donned her saddlebags and slowly trotted toward the exit, stated, “I guess I should get going, then.”

Before the mare could reach the door, Pan opened it for her, telling her, “I’ll walk you there.”

As the pair walked through Downtown Fillydelphia to the train station, they discussed none too much in particular, until they reached the train station.

“So,” began Berry as she thought, “are you planning on telling anypony else what you told me?”

“I’m not sure.” Pan glanced about the area nervously. “I figure I could deal with it myself; I just think it’s something I needed to tell at least one pony. I think one is enough.”

“Are you sure?” Berry stopped, prompting Pan to do so as well. “Do you even know how you’re going to deal with it?” Her cerise eyes beamed genuine curiosity and concern as she spoke.

“I could do some research, learn some things, and talk as it’s needed.”

The mare nodded. “I see. I could do some research as well; Ponyville’s got a great library. I could write you and tell you what I find.”

Pan shook his head slowly. “You don’t have to do that,” said he, finality in his tone. “I can handle myself.”

Berry held her friend’s face towards hers with both of her forehooves. “Please,” pleaded she in worry, “I want to help you. I won’t tell anypony; I’ll just read up on it myself.”

Pan sighed heavily, an all too familiar sound to Berry Punch. “Perhaps I didn’t get the words right.” He then stared on his own accord into the mare’s eyes and bluntly told her, “not only do you not need to help, but I don’t want your help. I can handle myself.” He motioned with his head toward an arriving train as it docked at the station. “Go. Go home, and don’t worry about me; you’ll be better off if you forgot seeing me, and all of today.”

The mare opened her mouth, but before she could reply, Pan closed his eyes and turned face, preparing to walk away. “You’re not getting away that easy,” thought she to herself as she grabbed the stallion with her hooves and snapped him into a tight embrace.

Neither pony said anything for the duration of the embrace, but when Berry let her friend go, Pan spoke, albeit quietly. “Go,” said he, “before the train leaves you behind."

As if by signal, the conductor of the train in question shouted a resounding “ALL ABOARD!” which anypony in the vicinity could have clearly heard.

The mulberry mare said nothing, but simply trotted towards her ride home. A few tears in her eyes, she said to herself, “what happened to you, Pan? I don’t mind the whole ‘mare’ thing, but when did you turn so harsh? So grisly?”

Meanwhile, Pan Sear trotted back to his apartment, focusing solely on where he was going. He had a look of scorn on his face as he walked, slowly but surely progressing to a steady canter as he went along towards his apartment.

When he finally arrived, nothing in his small home had changed; everything was in the exact place it was when he left, even the Red Hot Chili Peppers record that was on the player. “Good,” thought he as he scanned the room once again.

He quickly removed the record from the player and replaced it in its case. “Can’t have it scratch,” said he to himself. “I’m famished.” That thought in mind, he opened his refrigerator and a couple cabinets and began to set things out on his counter. He had out a pair of fresh fish, some exotic spices, such as curry, and some rice and vegetables to make himself dinner.

He touched his mane with a hoof to confirm that it was still held tightly in place behind his head. His next step was to switch on his stovetop and gather the necessary cooking utensils: a thin fillet knife, a spatula, and a wooden spoon, as well as a frying pan and a small pot. He boiled water in the pot, and filled it with rice and a few spices, and, while that cooked, sliced the fish into elegant fillets and sautéed them, along with some vegetables, in the frying pan.

After several minutes, Pan produced a plate from a cabinet and set it on the counter. He then spread out the rice on the plate, and gently slid the fish and vegetables onto the bed of rice. Observing the meal, and ultimately satisfied with his work, he took a fork from a drawer and trotted to his table and ate his meal.

Pan savoured his dinner, not rushing a single bite. When he was finished, he smiled and said, to nopony in particular, “Shred, My Friend, you sure do know how to cook. I’m glad I learned from you.” His tone then became heavy as he continued, “rest in peace, Old Friend.”

Glancing at his clock, he saw that it was rather late, and decided to clean up his dishes and retire for the night. He didn’t have much in his sink to begin with; he’d always cleaned what he’d used the day he used them, so he never had much to clean. He washed and dried each piece by hoof, and put them away in an impeccably organised fashion. He cleaned until he only had two things left to clean: the glasses he and Berry had drank from.

He seemed to forget completely about the event, for he bore a puzzled look as he picked up one glass and began to clean it. He noticed the faint blue residue left in the glass, and his memory returned. Once everything was cleaned and returned to its place, Pan switched off the lights to the main room and retired into his bedroom.

His bedroom was a bit smaller than his living room, and was just as modestly decorated: a steel bed lay under a window overlooking the street outside, which was almost dead at that hour, a small closet door adorned a wall, while the other was covered by shelves and a bookcase, containing, among books, various odds and ends.

Pan stood in the centre of his room, his mind still focused on the drink he and his friend had shared earlier that day. His eyes widened, as if several thoughts entered his head all at once. He thought of what he told her when they spoke in the park, what she said to him repeatedly throughout her visit, and, most of all, his last few words to her, and how he said them. The words danced mockingly as he thought.

“Let me help you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to help you.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“Please.”

“You’ll be better off if you forgot seeing me, and all of today.”

As the words haunted his thoughts, Pan had dropped to his haunches and buried his face in his hooves. His tears had stained the coat on his face and his fetlocks, and several had dropped past his hooves and stained his carpet. Between sobs, he spoke aloud. ”She only wanted to help! She could have helped more than anypony! Why didn’t I let her?!” After a few more seconds of silent sobs, he spoke again. “What happened to me? When did I become so harsh? So grisly?”

Chapter 2

“Hello?” A mare’s light, raspy voice called, barely reaching Pan Sear’s ears. “Pan! Are you awake?” Accompanying the call were knocks on Pan’s front door.

The green stallion turned over in his bed and glanced at a clock on a shelf, wiping his bloodshot eyes. It was early; very early. “That’s Midnight Blue,” thought he to himself. “What does she want?”

“Pan!” The mare called again as she knocked a bit louder. “Pan! Wake up! I need to talk to you!”

Slowly, the stallion slid out of his bed and shambled out of his bedroom to answer his friend’s incessant knocking. “And I’d like to talk to you, too,” said he under his breath before he opened the front door.

At the door stood a dark azure Unicorn Mare with dark, emerald green eyes. Her straight, dark violet mane was cut shorter than that of most mares, and her tail matched. On her flank was a fobwatch, showing the midnight hour, with three sparkles about it, giving it an almost lifelike gleam.

The mare smiled brightly and hugged Pan tightly. “Hey, Pan!” beamed she joyously.

“Hey, Blue,” greeted Pan, a smile of his own forming on his muzzle. “How are you?” He then stepped aside as he added, “please, come in.”

Midnight Blue nodded politely and entered. The pair then sat down on Pan’s sofa as the mare answered, “I’m good; just got off work. You know how graveyard goes.”

The stallion nodded. “Yeah, I know how it goes,” confirmed he. “That is how I met you, after all. So, what is it you wanted to talk about?” He gave his friend a mindful gaze as he spoke.

Midnight sighed, much like Pan did the day before when he spoke to Berry Punch. “Well,” began she carefully, “you know I’ve never had a coltfriend, right?”

“Yeah, I know that.” Almost completely sure of what his friend was going to say, he continued, “what are you trying to say?”

She ran a hoof through her short mane, and then glanced about the room. “Ummm, well, I’m not into stallions.” The mare’s words fell from her lips like a leaden weight, and she held her head down as if she were ashamed.

Pan Sear shrugged. “So, does that mean you’re into mares?” asked he, his voice showing that he was treading carefully with the question.

Midnight nodded slowly. “And now you don’t want to be my friend anymore, right?” She sounded certain, albeit extremely saddened, of her suspicion as she vocalised it.

The stallion smiled warmly as he embraced just as warmly the blue mare. “I understand, Blue,” said he tenderly, “and I’d never, repeat, NEVER, want to not be your friend.” He then lifted the mare’s head to face him and told her, “I love you all the same, Sweetie.”

“You.. you really mean that?” The mare wiped a tear from her emerald eye as she asked.

Pan nodded. “I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t.”

For a few seconds after the pair had broken their embrace, silence ensued, until Midnight spoke up. “By the way, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

Pan felt what he thought was his heart stop. “What?” asked he, at a loss for words.

“Before you answered the door,” explained Midnight innocently, “I heard you say you’d like to talk to me, too. Why is that?” She cocked her head in curiosity.

“I was afraid of that,” thought the green stallion. Scratching the back of his neck with a hoof, he reasoned, mostly to himself, “well, you told me a secret; I guess it’s fair that I tell you mine.”

The mare leaned closer to her friend in anticipation. “Yeah?”

“Hmmm,” thought Pan aloud, “How do I explain this?” Within a few seconds, he clapped his forehooves together to show he had an idea. “You know I’m not as stallion-like as other stallions, right?”

The blue mare nodded. “That’s an understatement. You’re practically one of the girls.” She smiled happily, thinking that what she’d said was a joke, while Pan knew all too well that it wasn’t.

“You’re brighter than you let on, Blue,” complimented he, “and that’s exactly my secret.”

Midnight Blue raised an eyebrow in slight confusion. “Thanks? So, what does that mean? Are you a mare in disguise or something?”

“You could say that.” The cook shrugged. “It’s more like I’ve got the heart and mind of a mare, but the physical form of a stallion.”

The mare nodded, showing that she understood the explanation. “So, what are you going to do?” asked she. “I mean, mares and stallions are clearly very different physically. What can you do about that?”

Pan shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ll figure something out, though; don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” agreed Midnight, “but remember: if you ever need help with anything, come talk to me.”

“Thank you,” said Pan, his tone beaming genuineness. “But, no thanks; I can deal with this myself; also, I said not to worry about it.”

Midnight shook her head. “No,” said she firmly, “I can’t accept that. I want to give you a hoof in any way I can.”

“You can give me a hoof by letting me handle myself,” replied Pan in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I’m fine with that,” negotiated the mare. “Though, I want you to promise me that if you ever need me to do anything else, and you need me to assist you, then you’ll find me.”

Pan nodded. “Okay,” said he lightly, “I promise.” He honestly just wanted to appease Midnight so she’d leave sooner. “Now, I’ve got to get ready for work; I’m sure you’re very tired after your shift.”

“What are you talking about?” The blue mare cocked her head. “I thought you worked Second Shift; you’ve got several hours before you even have to think about getting ready.”

“I guess you’re right; still, you must be exhausted.”

“Actually,” began Midnight, “I’m feeling...”

“Just leave!” barked Pan, clearly distraught and borderline furious.

Midnight stepped back rapidly, tears welling in her shocked eyes. “O.. okay. I’m sorry! I was just leaving!” She quickly opened the door and galloped out, her sobs slowly fading away as she distanced herself from the apartment.

“Finally!” shouted the stallion as he threw a hoof into a wall. “How hard is it to get somepony to leave you alone?! Seriously!” He then let out a shout of frustration as he continued, “I should have just stayed quiet!”

“Well, what good would that have done?!” asked a mare’s voice, muffled partially by the thin walls separating the two apartments.

Pan rolled his eyes in response. “It’s none of your concern, Daisy!” replied he, loudly enough for the mare next door to hear.

Within a few seconds, he heard a door open and close, and his front door unlock as a royal blue glow encased the doorknob and turned it. On the other side of the door stood Daisy Dreamer, a light lavender Unicorn Mare with a long, curly and full mane of light orchid and stripes of a paler orchid colour. Her tail matched her gorgeous mane, her eyes were a deep royal blue, and a daisy within a puffy white cloud adorned her flank. She looked very cross as she stepped into Pan’s apartment. “I think it’s quite a bit of my concern,” stated she, her tone aligning with her cross expression.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” barked Pan, barely acknowledging Daisy’s presence. “I thought you have a flower shop to tend to.”

The purple mare sounded confused as she replied, “it’s closed for renovation; I told you that, Pan.” She then sternly continued, “but, this isn’t about me; it’s about you, and how a close friend of yours is running away crying, by your hoof.”

“Oh, that,” growled Pan, glaring daggers at Daisy. “She wouldn’t leave me alone, and if that’s the only way to get her to shut up, then so be it. I’m not against doing it again.”

“Yell at me all you want,” retorted the mare, glaring back at her friend. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Pan’s anger almost boiled over in his head as his foreleg twitched. Before he could move, he felt a tight force grip his entire form as his vision became clouded by a royal blue haze. ”Hey!” shouted he, struggling against Daisy‘s magical grip. ”Let me go!”

The mare shook her head. “Not until you calm down.”

“I was calm!” shouted Pan.

“You don’t sound calm to me,” said Daisy blankly. She then focused on her magic as it moved Pan’s body into a supine position on his couch.

The stallion rolled his eyes. “This is ridiculous,” said he almost under his breath as he tried in vain to escape the unicorn’s magical grasp. After a few seconds, he ceased to struggle, accepting defeat. “Fine. What do you want?”

Daisy smiled. “All I want,” said she in a tender voice, “is for you to listen to me.”

Pan sighed. “I guess I don’t have a choice,” said he in defeat.

“No, you have a choice,” said Daisy as she released her grip from Pan. She then sat down next to the couch. “If you want me to leave, then I will.”

Every fibre of Pan’s being wanted to take Daisy up on that offer; to tell her to leave before she said anything else. However, he couldn’t convince himself to say it. Instead, he looked to his purple friend and asked her softly, “what is it you have to say, Daisy?”

Within a second of Pan’s asking of the question, Daisy’s face shifted from a sole expression of tender love to one mixed with melancholy. “All I have to say,” said she with an appropriately saddened tone, “is that I’m hurt.” This caught Pan’s full attention as the mare continued. “I’ve been hearing you keeping yourself awake every night for the past few weeks. You’d change emotions every night: you’d be furious, screaming into your pillows and hitting walls one night, bawling your eyes out the next, and pacing your floor asking yourself questions in a fluster the next. I couldn’t stand to listen, and it pained me, more and more every night that I couldn’t help you.” She then drew a heavy sigh as she finished her thought, “yesterday was my breaking point; I promised myself I’d talk to you in the morning, and here I am.”

Pan thought about Daisy’s words for several minutes and knew that she was right; he’d been a nervous wreck the past few weeks; he’d be furious, hopelessly sad and depressed, and utterly confused and worried night after night. He had no idea that Daisy was listening to him every night, though, and the thought of unknowingly depriving his friend of sleep and emotionally distressing her was too much for him to handle. When he got out of his thoughts, he realised he was crying, the tears a torrential rain emanating from his mind. “I had no idea,” said he between sobs. “I’m so sorry, Daisy. Please forgive me?”

Without hesitation, Daisy Dreamer tenderly embraced the crying stallion. “Already done,” said she just as tenderly. “Now, remember, you have friends who want to aid you in...” before she could finish, Pan interrupted.

“Yes,” said he quickly. “Yes, I need help. Oh, Celestia, I need help.”

The mare nodded. “Good,” said she. “That’s the first step. The next step is apologising to Midnight Blue.”

Pan nodded in agreement.

“Then go clean yourself up, Sweetie; we’ve got work to do.”

Chapter 3

Midnight Blue sat alone on a sofa in her apartment. Her bloodshot eyes had been drained of tears, but the mare still sobbed silently. The main room to her apartment wasn’t modest, but also not very extravagantly decorated: a few trinkets hung by strings about her walls and lay on shelves, her connected kitchen was cluttered but not filthy, and two doors marked different by posters stood on either wall, and the main door was left bare.

The mare ceased to sob when she heard a hoof knock on her door. “Wh.. who is it?” stuttered she, perking up her ears to listen for a reply.

“It’s Pan, Blue,” replied Pan Sear’s voice, breathing a slight tone of sorrow as he answered.

In response, Midnight grumbled under her breath and trotted towards her door. As the door swung open, the mare noticed Daisy Dreamer behind Pan, the latter of whom facing the floor in shame.

Before anypony could say anything, Pan began. “I’m sorry,” said he. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like I did.” The stallion slowly looked up to face his friend as he finished, “any chance you can forgive me?”

Without hesitation, the blue mare scooped the stallion up in a loving grip. “Oh, Pan!” said she joyously, “you’re so sweet! I could never stay mad at you!”

Pan sighed heavily from relief. “Thanks, Blue,” thanked he, “you’re too kind.”

The mare shook her head as she tightened her embrace and buried her head in Pan’s full cyan mane. “Not too kind,” said she, muffled by the stallion’s mane, “just relieved.” She finally broke her grip and backed away from her friend. “You smell different, by the way,” said she factually. “Would you like to come in?”

Politely, the pair entered Midnight’s abode and the three sat down on Midnight’s sofa to talk. “Thanks, Blue,” began Pan. “Also, what did you mean by ‘I smell different?’”

The blue mare shrugged. “Your mane,” explained she, “it smells different; more girly.” This earned a snicker from Daisy Dreamer.

Reacting to both mares, the stallion replied, “yeah, you can thank Daisy for that. She insisted that I use her shower before we came this way.”

The lavender mare nodded and added, “my shower, AND my product.” She ran a hoof through her springy, luscious mane, and then did the same to Pan’s to further emphasise her point.

Midnight giggled at the playful gesture. “I see what you mean. I like it.” She then thought for a second and requested, “hey, Pan? Could you go chill in my room for a minute? Me and Daisy need to talk.” She spoke with seriousness, but not sternly enough to sound like she was ordering anypony to do anything.

“Okay,” said Pan simply. He then stood up and trotted to the door directly behind the sofa, entering the room slowly.

Midnight Blue’s bedroom lacked windows, and felt small due to the clutter about it. Several bookshelves containing books, a clock, a few photos, board games, and several other trinkets and things lined two walls. The other two walls were taken up by doors: one leading to to main room, and one to Midnight’s closet. The mare’s bed was made of oak, and looked to be carved by skilled hooves, with the sheets and blankets made up flawlessly. “Good to know she keeps one thing organised,” criticised Pan in his head. Not wanting to disturb the bed, he sat down on the floor and studied his friend’s room further. Suddenly, his ears perked as he caught titbits of the two mares’ conversation in the other room. He adjusted his ears to hear better.

“I’m not sure; we want her to feel welcomed.”

“And we’ve got that covered.”

“Yes and no. WE welcome her, but we need her to feel welcomed by everypony.”

“Good point. And ideas?”

“I’ve got one.”

After a few seconds of silence, the door opened, revealing Daisy and Midnight. “You know,” remarked the latter, “you could have sat on the bed.”

Pan shrugged. “Didn’t want to mess up the sheets. So, what were you mares talking about?”

Daisy and Midnight looked at each other, then focused on Pan and simultaneously answered, “you.”

This reply made Pan Sear blush brightly. “Oh,” said he for lack of a response.

“We’ve got an idea that may help you a bit,” explained Daisy.

Midnight nodded. “It should make you feel more comfortable being open.”

Pan tilted his head. “Open?” questioned he. After a second, his eyes widened in realisation. “Oh, ‘open.’”

Daisy giggled. “Oh, Celestia, are you thick,” joked she. “Anyway, our plan is to get a few of our friends together and have you tell them all at once.” She glanced at Midnight, who nodded to confirm.

The stallion nodded as well. “I see, I see.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “about how many ponies were you thinking?”

Both mares shrugged. “Well,” thought Daisy aloud, “Citrus Sweet’s one.”

“And Strobe Light,” added Midnight.

After the mares had named a few ponies, Pan took a breath and said, “okay; most of them I know. Let’s do it.”

“That’s the spirit, Sweetie!” beamed the lavender mare. “Meet us at Citrus Sweet’s in an hour.”

“That’ll be good,” marked Pan. “I could walk to work from there and get there just in time.”

“Then it’s settled!” Midnight seemed to hop from joy as she thought about their day’s plan. “You should get home and ready up, Pan.”

The green stallion nodded. “Yeah. I’ll see you two then. Later.” With that, he departed.

After roughly an hour’s time, Pan found himself standing on the sidewalk, before a small building labeled “Citrus Sweet’s Citrus Sweets.” In the windows were desserts of many kinds: cakes, cookies, jams, among other things. A small sign revealed in red lettering the word “open.” The stallion opened the door and trotted in, where his friends waited.

A throng of ponies of all kinds sat about the building; all of whom diverted their attention to Pan Sear as he entered. Among these ponies were Daisy Dreamer and Midnight Blue, the former of whom broke the silence.

“Everypony,” said she, standing up beside her green friend, “we’ve gathered you here because our dear friend Pan has something to share with us. Pan?” As she finished her sentence, she returned to her seat.

Pan nodded to Daisy. “Thank you,” said he politely. He then faced the crowd before him, each set of eyes focused solely on him. Many thoughts raced through his head, and he began to sweat slightly. “Umm, well,” stammered he, running a hoof through his cyan mane. He glanced at each pony, various expressions of boredom, anticipation, and impatience about them. Admitting defeat to himself, he let out a deep sigh and stated, “I’m sorry we wasted your time.” Not giving anypony a chance to retort, Pan walked out the front door and made his way down the street.

“Pan, wait!” beckoned Daisy as she followed her friend.

“I don’t have time to wait,” said he in response. “I’ve got to get to work.”

Having finally caught up to Pan, the mare ordered, “then just listen to me while you walk.”

Without missing a beat, Pan looked over and asked, “what is it you want?”

“I want to know,” answered Daisy, “what we, as your friends, can do to...”

“Help me?” Finished Pan, annoyed. “I’m sorry, but you tell me what you can do. You’ve tried group therapy, and that failed. Other than forcing confessions out of me, what can you do?”

A sigh of frustration left Daisy lips as she retorted, “nopony ‘forced’ you to do anything, Pan! If I recall correctly, you volunteered to do it.” Calming herself, she continued, “look, you were afraid of saying anything in front of a crowd of ponies; simple Stage Fright. We can try again whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ll never be ready.”

“And why is that?”

Pan shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

After a few seconds of thought, Daisy suggested, “want to try telling a smaller number of ponies?”

”That doesn‘t sound bad,” reasoned the stallion to himself. “How many were you thinking?”

“Not too many,” replied Daisy, still in thought. “How about ponies you don’t fear will judge you.”

Pan scoffed. “Like who? My parents?”

The stallion’s reply made Daisy smile brightly. “That’s a great idea!” beamed she. “Your parents are perfect! They’ll still love you despite whatever you tell them; they’re your parents!”

Pan looked to his friend with a smile. “You’re right, Daisy,” said he. “I’ll tell them tomorrow or later tonight.”

“And that’ll give you a little confidence boost, won’t it?”

Pan nodded.

After a few more minutes of discussing Pan’s plan, the pair arrived at Pan’s workplace: a diner by the name of “Captain Salt’s Seafood.” The outside of the building was rather plain, and all the windows revealed were a few tables inside, where two or three ponies sat, enjoying their meals. “Well,” marked Pan, “I guess I’ll talk to you later, Daisy.”

The mare nodded, and after a brief hug, the pair parted ways. Pan walked through the front door of the eatery, and was immediately greeted by his boss.

“Ahoy!” beamed Captain Sea Salt, an aged Earth Stallion, with a smile on his face. His coat appeared to at one point have been blue, but had long since faded to grey, showing his old age. His mane and tail, once black, had faded and taken on streaks of silver, and his faded golden eyes showcased his age as well. On his flank was an anchor, the cable of which wrapped around the neck of a salt shaker.

“Ahoy, Captain,” greeted Pan in return. “Chef Pan Sear, Reporting for my shift.”

“Well, what are you waiting for, Pan?” asked Captain Salt sarcastically. “Gather your crew and turn to, Chef.” As Pan walked back to the kitchen, his boss gave him a hearty pat on the back.

Pan opened his locker in the back room of the diner and donned his white apron. He then washed his hooves and then proceeded to the kitchen to begin his shift.

Eight hours later, Captain Salt informed the ponies in the kitchen that it was time for them to turn in, and that the Graveyard crew was waiting in the back room. Most didn’t hesitate to put away their aprons and leave, but Pan Sear stayed behind for a few minutes, waiting for Midnight Blue to show up.

Soon enough, the blue mare trotted through the doors to the back room. Before she began her rounds, she saw Pan waiting at the bar. “What are you still doing here?” asked she, curious above all things.

“I just wanted to make sure Daisy told you about my plans for tomorrow.” Pan rested his head on his hoof, for he was rather fatigued after his day. When Midnight nodded and retold what Daisy had said to her, he replied, “well, then I guess I’ll see you two tomorrow after I visit my folks. I’ll tell you how it goes.” With that, he headed to his home.

The walk home was peaceful, and Pan admired every sight he could: the darkened stores and homes, the up and lively clubs, the late-night restaurants, and everypony still wandering the streets. Pan didn’t live or work in a bad part of the city, so very few “undesirable” ponies roamed the paths he walked or places he visited.

For once in almost two months, Pan Sear went to his room and immediately fell asleep in his bed. He didn’t cry himself to sleep, he didn’t scream, he didn’t keep himself awake with questions; he just lay down and slept through the night.

Chapter 4

“Come on, come on,” muttered Midnight Blue impatiently, pacing about Pan Sear’s living room. “Where’s Pan? She said it wouldn’t take longer than two hours.”

Daisy Dreamer sat on Pan’s sofa, much more at ease than her blue friend. “Calm down, Blue,” beckoned she, relaxation in her tone. “Pan’s parents’ house is in the suburb; it’d take an hour just to walk there from here.”

Midnight’s pace had slowed, and she looked to her lavender friend. “Yeah,” reasoned she, “I guess you’re right. But still, wouldn’t she have known that?”

Daisy shrugged. “Maybe she underestimated the time it takes to get there and back.”

“Maybe.”

Before a second passed the pair’s exchange of words, the main door opened slowly, revealing Pan Sear. He trotted in facing the kitchen, making only the left side of his face visible.

“Hey, Pan,” greeted Midnight, hopping up and down from joy. “How’d it go?”

The stallion turned, still only allowing the mares to see the left half of his face. A blank expression adorned his visible eye. “We talked for a few minutes before I told them.” He then let out a sigh.

“Well,” said Daisy, egging Pan to continue, “how’d they take it?”

His expression didn’t change. “My mother was the first to say anything. She denied it, saying she’d have known. She then started to cry, a lot, and repeatedly said she was a terrible parent for not seeing it.”

Both mares’ faces shifted to looks of worry and concern. “And,” asked Midnight carefully, “what about your father?”

Pan scratched his mane with a hoof before he continued. “He was destroyed by the news. More so, though, by the fact that my mother began to have a breakdown. He blamed me for her grief, for her pain.” He then turned to face his friends, revealing a perfectly formed, purple and red impression of a horseshoe surrounding his bloodshot right eye. “He always wore steel shoes.”

“My word!” exclaimed Daisy as she jumped to her hooves and rushed to Pan’s side, inspecting his face.

Midnight quickly followed Daisy’s example. “Are you alright?” Tears began to form as she imagined the pain from the strike that caused Pan’s wound.

The stallion gently pushed the two mares away. “I’m fine,” said he dismissively, “it’ll heal up in a few days. It doesn’t even hurt.”

Daisy began to cry as she embraced her green friend. “I’m so sorry, Pan,” stuttered she between sobs. “I.. I shouldn’t have made you tell them.”

Pan held the lavender mare’s head between his hooves. He gazed into her royal blue eyes and tenderly told her, “nopony ‘made’ me do anything, Daisy. If I recall correctly, I volunteered to do it.”

“Well,” began Midnight, clearing her eyes of tears, “is there anything we can do? For the bruising, that is.” Daisy quickly chimed in, backing up Midnight’s offer.

Pan shook his head. “Not really. My eye will be clear in a day or two, and I can dress the bruise so it’ll heal in no time.” He smiled warmly, brightening the genuineness in his tone.

“Umm, okay,” admitted Daisy Dreamer. “I guess you’re right. If you need us to stick around...”

“That won’t be necessary.” The green stallion kept his smile going. “All I need to do is take care of this bruise; not much you two can do around here.” After a few seconds, he began to shoo them away with his hooves, saying light-heartedly, “out, out, out! Go; enjoy your day.”

Both mares laughed as they trotted towards the front door. “Okay; we’ll see you later, Pan,” said Daisy as she exited the apartment.

Within a few seconds, Midnight emerged from the apartment as well, still lightly giggling. “Hey,” said she to get her friend’s attention. “Where are you headed, Daisy?”

The lavender unicorn shrugged. “Just to my shop to see how the renovation’s going.” She paused before she added, “and then I’m going to go see Java.”

Midnight giggled again. “That Java Blend always smells like coffee.”

Daisy simply rolled her eyes. “That’s because he works at a coffee shop, Blue,” said she plainly. “I own a flower shop, and so I smell like flowers, too.”

“Yeah,” said she, “but I work at a seafood diner, and I don’t smell like fish all the time.”

Daisy snickered. “Not ALL the time.”

“Hey!”

“I didn’t say anything that you didn’t already,” defended Daisy, laughter giving clear view into the pair’s joking.

Midnight managed to calm down enough to notice the music store they were walking past. “Ooh,” said the blue unicorn, reading a poster in the window, “they’ve got this year’s CanterRock Fest live record. I’ve got to get in on that.” She then looked to her lavender friend, who she momentarily forgot was with her. “Oh,” said she nervously, “umm, I guess I’ll see you later, Daisy.”

“Yeah,” replied Daisy, “I’ll see you later. Be sure to stop by with that record; I’d love to hear it, and I’m sure Pan would, too.” With a quick hug, the pair parted ways.

Daisy trotted at a leisurely pace through the city on her way to her shop. She gave everypony who passed by a friendly nod or wave, which most gladly returned. When she arrived at the blank, red brick building that was her flower shop, she saw the scaffolding set up in the front, and several ponies working on it as well as on the inside.

A light orange Unicorn Stallion wearing a hardhat and suit, holding a few scrolls in his light azure grip of magic, looked over to see the lavender mare. Dropping all scrolls save one, he galloped out of the building to meet her. “Good day, Miss Dreamer,” greeted he chivalrously.

“Good day, Sir,” greeted she in return. “Might I ask how the work is going?”

“Of course,” replied the stallion happily. The scroll he held unrolled, revealing the blueprints for the building, with certain portions highlighted. “Everything’s going according to plan.” He motioned with a hoof to certain points as he briefly explained the week’s progress. “Anyway,” finished he, “at this rate, we’ll surely be finished by the deadline with time to spare.” He then rolled up his scroll and smiled proudly.

Daisy nodded at the explanation. “That’s great,” beamed she. “I’ll let you to your work then.” The stallion tipped his hardhat as the mare trotted away to her next destination.

After about fifteen minutes of a comfortable trot, Daisy came upon a small apartment complex. She trotted through to the courtyard and approached a door with a large brass “4“ on its face.

She knocked a hoof on the thin metal door, and a mocha brown Earth Stallion with a coffee bean on his flank answered. He stood a head taller than the mare before him. His decently-kept mane and tail were a deep burgundy colour, and his eyes were covered by a pair of aviator sunglasses. He smiled at the sight of Daisy. “Hey there, Sweetheart,” said he in a low voice.

Daisy greeted the stallion with a kiss. “Hey, Java,” said she. “What’s up?”

Java shrugged. “Not much; just fixing to head out for some lunch.” He then looked down to his marefriend and lowered his shades, partially revealing his yellow eyes. “What brings you my way, Daisy?”

The mare shrugged. “I don’t know; I felt like it.”

Java laughed a hearty laugh. “I see,” said he. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go eat.”

The pair idly conversed on their way to Java’s chosen lunch spot: an Appleloosan restaurant called “Black Stone’s.” As they ate a fruit salad together, they began to discuss Daisy’s friends.

“So, how is that Pan Sear?” asked Java.

“Oh, he’s doing well,” answered she. She then began to think to herself, “should I tell him? Would she mind?” Reasoning to herself, she continued, “I think she wants ponies to know: I should tell him.”

“Tell me what?” questioned the mocha stallion.

“Oh, no,” thought she. “Did I just say that out loud?”

“Yes, you did,” answered Java again. “Are you alright, Daisy?”

Daisy shook her head to clear up her flustered thoughts. “Yeah,” answered she, “I’m fine. Just worried.”

“About what?”

Daisy took a deep breath. Exhaling, she said, “Pan’s not as he seems.” When Java cocked his head in confusion, she continued, “well, Pan told me a few things yesterday. Apparently he’s a mare in a stallion’s body, if that makes sense.” She spoke faster and faster as she confessed. “And I’m also worried about Midnight; she knows about Pan, too, and she’s also dealing with coming out as gay, and I think it’s too much on her, and then Pan got hit, and...” Before Daisy could go any further, Java spoke up.

“Ay, ay,” beckoned he, holding a hoof to his marefriend. “Slow that brain train down.” He then removed his sunglasses and asked, “now, I got the gist of what you said, but I need to clear up. You’re saying that Midnight’s a Fillyfooler?”

Daisy quickly looked up at the stallion. “Well, if you want to call it THAT, then yes,” said she, visually distraught by the stallion’s blatant use of the word “Fillyfooler.”

“And that Pan fellow’s some kind of wacky cross-dresser?”

Daisy nervously scratched the back of her neck with a hoof. “Umm, well,” stammered she. Before she could answer, Java spoke up again.

“Just what kind of ponies are you hanging with, Daisy?” asked he in confusion.

The mare turned her head and, crossing her forehooves, replied confidently, “I ‘hang’ with my friends, Java.”

The stallion scoffed. “Well then find yourself some different friends.”

“And why would I do that?” asked Daisy in a condescending tone. “What’s it to you?”

“Well,” began Java, “I don’t think they’re a good influence on you. First you’re only chilling with them; next thing you know, you’ll be putting on my suits and flirting with random mares.”

Daisy gasped at her coltfriend’s rudeness. “I don’t think you understand, Java. First off, Midnight doesn’t flirt with random mares. Second, Pan doesn’t cross-dress, as far as I know.” Before Java could inhale to reply, Daisy continued, “and furthermore, how dare you think I’m some impressionable little filly!”

“Well, I don’t want to take the risk,” retorted the mocha stallion. “But, I’m sorry I care about you.”

“Hmph,” snorted Daisy. “If you cared about me, you’d let my friends be who they are and not give me a tongue-lashing for it.”

“If you cared about me,” replied the stallion, now frustrated with his marefriend, “then you’d trust my judgment and stay away from those weirdoes.”

“I think this little date’s over, Java,” marked Daisy, venom in the words. She put down five bits for the food, and began to trot off, not before Java could say anything.

“Think about this, Daisy!” shouted he as the mare distanced herself from him.

After a while of walking, Daisy found herself at Citrus Sweet’s Citrus Sweets. Noticing that the store was open, but not too busy, she trotted in, where she was instantly greeted by the store’s proprietor.

“Hey there, Daisy,” a yellow Earth Stallion said happily upon seeing the mare. His lime green mane was slicked back and held under a chef’s hat, his tail was cut short, and he had a short goatee hanging from his chin. A lemon, orange, and lime adorned his flank and he had golden orange eyes. He also wore an apron stained with batter and frosting.

“Good day, Citrus,” greeted Daisy in return, a somber tone about her. “You’re not too busy, are you?”

The stallion looked back to the kitchen and replied, “umm, I’ve got a couple batches of cupcakes in the oven; but, they’ve got a few minutes.” He then turned back to his friend and asked, clearly concerned, “what’s on your mind, Dreamer?”

Daisy Dreamer rested her head on her hoof as she thought about her day. “Java,” replied she simply. When Citrus rested his hooves on their table, she elabourated, “well, I told him about Pan and Midnight: how Midnight is into mares and, well, you remember what we’d discussed about Pan, right?”

Citrus nodded. “Yeah, I remember that. That day you had our friends here and he was going to tell everypony?”

“Yes,” replied Daisy. “Anyway, Java didn’t take it the way I thought he would.”

“Oh?”

“He snapped and insisted that I stop hanging around them. I mean, Pan and Blue are my two closest friends; but, I love Java, and I know he means well, but...” She looked to the stallion as he trotted towards the jukebox in the corner of the store. “What are you doing?”

The stallion put a bit into the old machine and set it to a song. “Just giving the room a little music; you don’t mind, do you?”

“Umm, well, not really.” Daisy shrugged as her friend returned to the table. “Anyway, I’ve no idea who to side with on this one.”

“Have you talked with Midnight and Pan about it?”

The mare shook her head. “No; I already know what they’ll say: ‘dump Java and stay friends with us.’” She looked into her friend’s orange eyes and told him, “I don’t want to have them breathing down my neck as well; I need an objective opinion, Citrus.”

As a response, Citrus Sweet looked to the jukebox he had activated and calmly stated, “then what about the song?” Daisy cocked her head in confusion, to which the stallion answered, “just listen.” As they both listened to the old-school rock music, they focused on the lyrics:

“I don’t care what you say anymore, this is my life. Go ahead with your own life, leave me alone.”

The pair then focused on each other again. “Listen, Daisy,” said Citrus, the wise old teacher to Daisy’s young learner. “Don’t let anypony tell you what to do or what to think. Like the music says, this is your life; do what you think you should do. I can’t give any more advice than that, other than to think; think about the decision you have to make.” As if by cue, a bell began ringing in the kitchen. “The cupcakes are done,” marked the stallion. “Go home, sit down, relax, and decide who you want to side with.” With that, he excused himself to attend to his pastries.

Daisy let out a heavy sigh. “Well,” thought she aloud, “thanks, Citrus; you always know what to say. I’ll get out of your mane now.”

After the lavender mare left the confectionery, she went home.

The interior of Daisy’s apartment was spotless, and not a thing seemed out of place; a stack of magazines and catalogues lay on her small coffee table, a record player stood in the rear left corner of the main room, between the open kitchen and a door, and her sofa lay against the rear wall beside an end table holding a lamp. She then did exactly what the confectioner told her: she sat down on her sofa, relaxed, and thought.

Chapter 5

The Fillydelphia suburbs were always calm, and quiet as well. The grass beneath Pan Sear’s hooves sparkled with dew, as did the small, one-story house before which he stood. “Well,” thought he, “here I am.” He then ran a hoof through his cyan mane and trotted up to the front door.

With a single knock, the door was opened by Over Cast, a deep blue Pegasus Mare with a short, wavy, aqua mane held back with a pink band, and a pair of clouds obscuring the sun on her flank. Her red eyes beamed joy as she beheld the green stallion. “Oh, hello, Pan!” greeted she happily.

“Hello, Mom,” said Pan in return. “Might I come in?”

“Of course, of course,” replied the mare as she stepped aside to allow Pan entrance.

The interior of the house wasn’t modest, nor was it extravagant; the dining room, kitchen, and living room were all connected, separated only by wide doorways, and several doors adorned the walls. In the living room, on a large sofa sat a yellow Earth Stallion reading a newspaper. He had a short, well-kept blue mane and tail, and his green eyes were covered by reading glasses. A wheel and a bit adorned his flank. He turned from his paper and got a good look at the green stallion. Standing up, he said to him, “hey, Son!”

Pan blinked, and as he opened his eyes, the setting changed; now, he was sitting across the coffee table from his parents in their living room, three cups on the coffee table between the ponies. “So, wait,” said the yellow stallion, confusion in his tone, “what you’re trying to say is that, although your body is male, you’ve got the brain of a mare?”

Pan nodded. “That’s pretty much it.”

The three ponies sat in silence for several awkward seconds, until Over Cast finally spoke. “No,” said she, at first to herself, and then louder. “No, no no. That can’t be.” She then began to stutter. “I.. I’d have known something was wrong. H.. how couldn’t I? I’m your mother!” With that, the mare started to loudly bawl, saying repeatedly, “what kind of mother am I?! I can’t even tell when there’s something wrong with my own foal!”

Pan blinked again, and the setting slightly changed again: his mother was lying on the sofa, silently sobbing, the makeup from her face smeared both on herself and the arm of the sofa. His father was walking up to him, a glint of anger in his green eyes. “What have you done?” asked he, venom in his tone. “Look at your mother! How could you do this to her?!”

“It had to be said eventually,” retorted the green stallion calmly, though visibly bothered by his mother’s breakdown.

“Oh, shut up!” barked the yellow stallion. As Pan opened his mouth to reply, the stallion repeated, “I said shut up!” With that, his steel-shod hoof connected with Pan’s head, the shoe surrounding, but not touching, his right eye.

Pan stumbled, unable to see clearly out of his right eye. The pain was tremendous; with each heartbeat amplifying it. He felt the steel shoe strike his face again, this time his nose was the target. he grunted as he felt his muzzle crack from the forceful blow. A few drops of crimson stained his face as he fell back onto the thin carpet. A hoof pulled his head up slightly as his blurred vision barely gave sight of another hoof coming his way. Slowly, as each strike knocked his head to and fro, the green stallion’s mouth filled with blood and the corners of his vision faded into white, which lazily crawled to the centre of his sight, blocking out everything.

*************************************************************************************************

Pan Sear let out a loud, piercing scream as he jerked his body to a sitting position on his bed. He had been sweating profusely, and was breathing heavily. After a second, his eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he glanced about his room; nothing seemed out of place. Satisfied with what he saw, the stallion calmed down enough to fall back onto his bed and go back to sleep. He was interrupted, however, by his friend’s voice in the next apartment.

“Pan?” questioned Daisy Dreamer, concern clear in her tone, even through the thin apartment walls. “Pan? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Daisy,” replied the stallion. “Go back to bed.”

The next thing Pan heard was hoofsteps, the opening and closing of a couple doors, and his bedroom door creaking open. Daisy didn’t switch the lights on when she trotted up to her friend’s bed and sat down, making the light glow from her horn the only illumination in the dark room. “I wasn’t asleep before,” said she softly. “I can’t sleep.”

“Was I really that loud?” asked Pan, ashamed and saddened by the thought of keeping his friend awake again.

Daisy shook her head. “No; I’ve just been thinking.” She shook her head to clear her thoughts and continued, “but anyway, what’s up with you? That must have been quite the nightmare.”

For roughly half an hour, Pan explained, in great detail, his dream to Daisy, both cringing as the stallion detailed feeling himself getting beaten to death. “That..” stuttered Daisy, “that’s horrible. I’m so, so sorry.” She then held the stallion’s head in her hooves to comfort him.

Pan gently pushed his friend’s hooves away. “I’m alright,” assured he, “I’m just glad it didn’t really play out like that; he told me to get out of his sight after he hit me the first and only time. I left before he could have another go at me.”

“Still,” added the mare, “it’s not like it’s some random pony you’ve never met; we’re talking about your father.”

Pan looked to the mare and said blankly, “I know that. It doesn’t make any difference, though.” He then sighed as he finished, “just another pony to keep out of my life.”

“I guess,” reasoned Daisy. “I’m still sorry, Sweetie.”

In the time that had passed, Pan and Daisy had sat down beside each other on Pan’s bed. “Don’t be sorry, Daisy,” said Pan sincerely. “Anyway, if I wasn’t keeping you up, what was?” He looked to his friend as he asked.

Daisy shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“Obviously it’s not,” retorted Pan, “or else you wouldn’t have been losing sleep over it.”

Instead of a direct response, the lavender unicorn gazed into Pan Sear’s magenta eyes, and smiled warmly. “No,” began she, relief evident in her tone. “It’s really nothing; I had a decision to make, and I think I’ve made it.”

Pan returned his friend’s smile. “Well, I’m glad,” marked he. “Well, now that I can stand to close my eyes and you’ve made your decision, let’s both get back to bed, eh?”

Daisy nodded, letting out a yawn. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Goodnight, Pan.” She then gave her green friend a hug and returned to her apartment.

Sufficiently relaxed, Pan rested his head on his pillow and sighed blissfully. Without a word, the stallion fell back asleep, and dreamt pleasantly through the rest of the night.

The next morning, the green stallion awoke to the hypnotic aroma of waffle batter and blueberries. He stretched as he slid to his hooves from his bed and trotted into the next room.

In Pan Sear’s kitchen stood Midnight Blue, operating a waffle iron, while Daisy Dreamer sat on the stallion’s sofa, listening to Classic Rock on the record player. “Morning, Sunshine!” greeted the blue mare happily.

Pan rubbed his eyes groggily. “Blue,” said he, “what are you doing in my kitchen?”

“I’m making waffles,” answered the blue mare, teeming with joy.

The stallion inhaled the aroma of the blueberry waffles and leaked a smile. “Alright,” said he. “But make it quick; I have to get to the post office to get my mail.”

“Taken care of,” shouted Daisy from the sofa. As Pan looked over to her, a stack of envelopes and a magazine, wrapped in a glow of royal blue, floated over to him. “We didn’t read them,” added the mare.

Pan took the stack from Daisy’s telekinetic grip. “Okay,” said he, flipping through the envelopes. “Hmm,” thought he aloud, “I got a letter from Berry Punch.”

“Who’s Berry Punch?” inquired Midnight, cocking her head.

“Just an old friend of mine,” replied Pan honestly. He then opened the letter and read it, summarising it aloud. “Well, she looked in Ponyville’s library, and she found a book called ‘Equine Psychology and Sociology.’ She says it mentions a mental condition known as “Transgenderism,” and that the description fits me.”

“Well,” began Daisy to ask the inevitable, “what’s the description?”

Glancing at the letter, Pan explained, “she says that it’s defined as ‘a psychological condition in which a Pony physically identifies as one sex, but mentally identifies as the opposite.”

Both mares nodded. “Yeah,” agreed Daisy, “that sounds about right. Did she say anything about solutions?”

Pan shook his head. “Nope; she says that the only thing she could find was a definition.”

“Waffles are done!” said Midnight Blue, taking the other two ponies by surprise. She saw her friends jump, and then, blushing heavily, apologised, “oops. Sorry.”

Pan chuckled, and was joined by Daisy. “It’s okay, Blue,” assured he. “Now, we can discuss this further over breakfast.”

Within a few minutes, the three ponies were standing around Pan’s table, a plate of waffles before each one. They talked as they ate.

“So,” began Pan, “apparently Berry’s also planning on visiting sometime this week.”

Daisy finished one waffle and replied, “that’s great! I’d love to meet her.” Midnight nodded in agreement.

“What’s that?” Midnight’s ears perked as she listened. Her two friends listened as well, and they heard a hoof knocking on Daisy Dreamer’s door.

“Daisy? Sweetie, you in there?” Java Blend’s voice called into the mare’s apartment.

“Oh, great,” muttered the lavender unicorn. “Everypony stay quiet.”

After a few seconds, the trio heard hoofsteps, and then a knock on Pan’s front door. “Daisy?’ asked Java again, “are you hanging with those weirdoes again?”

With that remark, Pan looked directly at his door and stood up, replying loudly, “who are you calling weirdoes?”

Daisy’s eyes went wide, and she stealthily slipped into Pan’s bedroom, closing the door silently behind her.

Pan’s door flew open, revealing a very cross-looking Java Blend. The mocha stallion glared daggers through his aviators at the two visible ponies. “I’m calling you two weirdoes,” answered he, his tone venomous.

“Well,” said Midnight, glaring back at the large stallion, “Daisy isn’t here.”

Java lowered his sunglasses and looked condescendingly at the mare. “Then how come there’re three plates there?”

“Observant, aren’t you?” remarked Midnight. “Yeah, she was here, key word WAS. She left a few minutes ago.”

“Oh?” The mocha stallion raised his sunglasses and smirked. “So you won’t mind if I have a look in your room back there, will you, Pan?” He then began to slowly trot towards Pan’s bedroom.

“Actually,” began Pan Sear, standing as tall as he could before Java, who was significantly taller than he. “I do mind; you’ve no right to invade my personal space.”

Java chuckled heartily. “What’s the matter?” taunted he. “Afraid I’ll find your collection of frilly little dresses?”

The green stallion’s face grew red, to which Java laughed even harder. “Outta my way, Freak.” He tried to shove Pan with his hoof, but to no avail. Instead, Pan knocked the stallion’s hoof out of his way and brought his own across his mocha face.

Java was addled for a moment, but popped his jaw with a hoof as he regained his composure. “You’ll pay for that, you little cross-dressing coltcuddler!” He took a step towards Pan, but was quickly stopped by Midnight Blue, who brought up her rear hooves and kicked the stallion square in his chest. Coughing loudly, the mocha stallion barked angrily, “fine! I’m not wasting my energy on you freaks!” With that, he hobbled out Pan’s door.

“And stay out, Mule!” taunted Midnight as the stallion left. Within a few seconds, Daisy slowly emerged from Pan’s room.

“Umm,” stuttered the lavender mare, “is he gone?”

Midnight puffed out her chest and boasted, “yes, yes he is. And, because of us, he won’t be bothering you again.”

Daisy scratched her mane with her hoof. “Yeah, thanks. I guess that means my decision’s set in stone now. Thanks, Girls”

Pan and Midnight laughed at the remark. “No problem, Daisy,” said Pan, smiling warmly. “Always happy to help out a friend.”

Chapter 6

Precisely at Midday, a train arrived at the Fillydelphia Central Station, emanating its whistle throughout the station, alerting everypony nearby of its presence. Three ponies in particular stood just outside of the station, waiting for their friend.

“I think the train’s here,” remarked Midnight Blue sarcastically.

Pan Sear let out a chuckle. “Yeah,” agreed he, “and that looks like the 9:30 to Fillydelphia to me. Berry should be here any minute.” He then looked to Daisy Dreamer and asked, “by the way, what did you tell Java?”

The lavender unicorn thought for a few seconds. “All I told him,” answered she, “was that you were Transgender and Blue was into mares.” She then lowered her head. “I’m sorry; he wouldn’t stop pressing the issue.”

Pan and Midnight shrugged. “I don’t mind that,” said Pan. He then stepped closer to Daisy and clarified, “what I meant was how did he know about what was in my closet?”

Daisy cocked her head. “What?” She then nodded and remembered, “oh, the dresses?” When Pan nodded with a blush, The mare added, “I didn’t even know you owned any dresses.”

“Well then how did Java?” asked Pan in confusion.

Daisy shrugged. “No idea,” answered she nonchalantly. “Maybe he didn’t, and was just trying to insult you; I wouldn’t put that past him.”

Midnight Blue, who had been absent from the discussion, decided to contribute. “Wait,” said she, cocking her head, “Pan has dresses?”

As he heard the words uttered once again, the green stallion groaned, his face a deep scarlet. “Yeah,” muttered he, “I’ve got one dress, from a thrift store. What’s the big deal?” He began to sound defensive as he spoke.

“Nothing at all, Sweetie,” replied Midnight, sounding as though the answer was obvious. “In fact, I think it’s cute.” She then gasped and suggested, “you should show us when we get back; I want to see it!”

Before Pan could reply, a mare’s voice greeted them. “Hey, Pan!” said the voice, belonging to the mulberry Earth Mare for whom the trio were waiting.

Relieved, Pan Sear quickly turned to face his old friend. “Hello, Berry,” greeted he joyously. “How was the trip?”

Berry Punch shrugged. “I can’t complain,” replied she honestly. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Pan nodded. “This is Midnight Blue, and Daisy Dreamer.” He motioned to each mare as he named them. He then turned to the pair and said, “Midnight and Daisy, this is Berry Punch.”

The three mares exchanged greetings. “Say, Pan,” began the mulberry mare nervously, “you’re not still mad at me, are you?”

Pan looked as though he was offended by the question. “Not at all, Berry,” assured he, genuineness in his tone. “I was stupid to say those things to you, and I’m glad you did what you did.”

Smiling brightly, Berry kissed Pan on his cheek and giddily remarked, “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me; you’re too sweet.”

Midnight’s blue face shifted to crimson as she turned her head away from the scene. Nopony seemed to notice, and Daisy suggested, “so, what say everypony that we get back to Pan’s?”

Everypony nodded in agreement, and the group slowly trotted towards Pan’s apartment. After a few minutes of walking, they passed by Citrus Sweet’s Citrus Sweets, and Daisy began to speak. “Umm, Girls,” said she slowly. Once she had everypony’s attention, she continued, “I forgot that I have to see Citrus; I’ll see you later.”

Berry Punch nodded. “I see. Well, it was nice meeting you, Daisy Dreamer.” With a quick hug from all three ponies, Daisy entered the confectionery, and the trio remaining began to move again.

After another half hour of idle conversation, the three ponies arrived at Pan Sear’s apartment, where they sat down and relaxed. “So, Berry,” began Midnight, “did you find anything else out about Transgenderism?”

Berry shook her head. “Other than the little definition in that book, nothing.” She then looked to Pan and said, “sorry, Pan.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” replied Pan dismissively. “I’m honestly surprised you found that much.”

“And we’re bound to find a lot more,” added Berry factually.

Midnight Blue cocked her head. “What do you mean?” Pan agreed with Midnight and asked the same thing.

“Well,” explained the mulberry mare, “the librarian back in Ponyville’s kind of obsessive. You see, when I was reading that psychology book, she asked what I was reading about, and I told her; I didn’t give any names. However, she was shocked that there was so little in her library about the subject. She even noted how no other book she had even mentioned it.”

Pan listened intently to his friend. “So, what does that mean?”

“It means,” answered Berry with a smile, “that she’s going to find what she can on the subject, and then tell me what she finds.”

The green stallion nodded, smiling. “That’s great news,” remarked he. “Thanks, Berry.”

“Yeah,” agreed Midnight.

Pan then stood up and looked to a clock in the room. “Well,” said he to both mares, “it’s about time I get to work. Feel free to hang out here as long as you like.” As he trotted back to his room, he said as an afterthought, “and, Midnight, could you gather up some of your friends and have them meet at Captain Salt’s around my lunch hour?”

“For what?” asked Midnight, as if by reflex. Pan then turned to face her, and an intuitive expression told the mare everything she needed to know. “Okay,” complied she, nodding, “you got it.”

With that, the stallion left the apartment with his saddlebags. “See you then, Girls.”

When Pan arrived at Captain Salt’s, the restaurant was calm, and he was one of the first there to work the shift. He greeted the captain and readied up in the locker room.

The Dinner Rush was tough, but Pan and the rest of the kitchen crew got the job done. When the last dinner customer payed their bill and left, Captain Salt dismissed everypony for their break. Most left to other places to eat, but Pan brought something from home and went to a booth to eat.

“Ahoy, Pan!” greeted Captain Salt as he trotted over to his employee. Pan returned the greeting, to which the aged stallion rested his hooves on the table. “So, Pan,” began he, “you did a proper good job on the Dinner Rush, as usual.”

Pan smiled at the compliment. “Thank you, Sir; after all, I did learn from the best.”

The captain nodded in agreement. “That you did, Pan; that you did. Breakneck Shred was a great cook, and an exceptional pony.”

“Rest in Peace, Old Friend.” The pair then shared a moment of silence.

After the moment ended, several ponies came in through the front doors: Midnight Blue, Daisy Dreamer, Citrus Sweet, Berry Punch, and three other ponies. The group took their places at Pan’s booth, and the next booth over.

“Oi,” began Captain Salt, looking about at everypony, especially Midnight Blue, who stood next to him, “what be all this?”

Pan let out a light chuckle. “It’s not a mutiny, if that’s what you’re thinking, Captain,” assured he, playful lightness in his voice. “If you’ll excuse me, Strobe.” The red Earth Mare beside Pan allowed him to exit the booth and stand before everypony, which he did.

“Fillies and Gentlecolts,” announced Daisy Dreamer, “most of you have heard this before, but our dear friend Pan has something to say. Pan?”

Remembering his last attempt photographically, Pan tried to maintain his composure and go through with the confession. “Thank you,” said he politely, precisely following his proverbial hoofsteps. To avoid the accusing stares, he looked to the ground as he spoke. “Well, ummm,” stuttered he. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dark azure hoof reach for his own. he took the hoof and visually trailed it to its owner, Midnight Blue. The mare beamed to him a warm, loving smile that lifted his spirits.

Still holding his friend’s hoof, Pan looked to each and every pony in the small diner and said boldly, “I’m what is termed a ‘Transgender.’” Without needing a prod on, he continued with gusto, “that’s defined as: ‘a psychological condition in which a Pony physically identifies as one sex, but mentally identifies as the opposite.’”

When everypony save Midnight, Berry, and Daisy gave confused stares, Pan simplified the definition. “Basically,” said he, “I’m a mare with the body of a stallion.” Everypony who didn’t comprehend before nodded as he simplified the explanation.

For a minute or two, there was silence, until Citrus Sweet was the first to speak up. “So,” began he cautiously, “does that mean you, you know, act like a girl?”

“I’ve been told I have a feminine personality, yes,” answered Pan, nothing less than honesty in his tone.

“And so,” asked Strobe Light, scratching her neon-coloured mane with a hoof, “do you, umm, like, dress the part, too?”

Pan nodded, blushing slightly. “Sometimes, but only in private.” He glanced across the entire group and assured them, “please, ask whatever you like; don’t be shy. I will answer any and all questions to the best of my ability.”

“Then I’ve got a question,” stated Captain Salt. Pan bade him continue, and he did. “Can I have a word with you, in private?”

The green stallion shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” With that, the grey stallion trotted to the back of the restaurant, and Pan followed, ignoring whispers he heard coming from everypony else. Once the steel door to the locker room closed, Pan asked the inevitable. “What is it you wanted to tell me, Captain?”

The captain’s face bore little expression as he spoke to his friend and employee. “This whole issue of yours isn’t going to get in the way of your work, is it?”

Pan Sear drew a heavy sigh, relieved from his suspicions. “Is that it, Sir?” When his boss nodded, he chuckled and said, “if it was going to get in the way, it would have started years ago.”

Captain Salt nodded. “Okay, good.” His aged face then bore a look of friendly concern, and he continued, “look, Pan: I care about you, not only as a worker, but as a friend. I know you may be thinking I’m heartless for not being too concerned about tran-whatever of yours, but I’ve got a business to run, and I can’t have my best chef’s performance stunted by anything.”

The green stallion nodded to show that he understood the captain’s concerns. “Look,” said he assuringly, “like I said out there, I only do anything with it in private, on my own time. You have absolutely nothing to worry about, Captain.”

“Okay,” replied Captain Salt, convinced. “I just had to be sure.” He then opened the door and held it for Pan to exit. Smiling brightly, he insisted, “ladies first.”

Pan chuckled at his boss’ gesture. “Thank you, Sir,” thanked he, mocking a curtesy as he trotted out of the locker room.

“Now get these ponies out of here unless they want to order something!” ordered the captain as the pair returned to the front of the diner. Pan turned to him, and was met by a wink from the stallion.

Pan nodded, and then complied. “You heard the captain,” said the stallion loudly enough for everypony to hear. “Break’s almost over, and hungry customers will be waiting. Buy something or we’ll have to ask you to leave.”

The ponies stood up almost simultaneously and walked out of the diner in a single-file line, save Berry Punch, who stayed where she was. As the group left, as if by cue, the rest of the diner’s crew came trotting through the doors, stomachs full and ready to finish their shifts.

A kind-looking old Unicorn Mare held a notepad and pencil in her phantasmal emerald grip as she happily walked up to Berry. “What can we get for you, Dearie?” asked she with a server’s smile.

“One Pan Sear Slushy Special, please,” answered the mulberry mare without missing a beat.

The waitress then gave the order to Pan, who already knew what his friend was going to order. Within two minutes, the waitress returned with the glass of blue liquid and crushed ice Berry had ordered.

Berry Punch thanked her server and Pan as she payed for her drink, drank it, and trotted joyfully out the door.

Amongst a few ponies loitering outside the diner, two in particular stood isolated, looking through the restaurant windows, unnoticed by everypony nearby.

“That’s him, Switch,” said the first, his aviator glasses hiding his expression. “The green one with the blue hair.”

The other stallion nodded, the moonlight reflecting off of his teeth revealing a devious grin on his muzzle. “Got it; consider it done. I do owe something after that thing Sophomore Year.”

The first stallion chuckled at the memory. “That’s more than paid for if you do this.”

Chapter 7

The door to Pan Sear’s apartment creaked open slowly, revealing the green stallion. His mane was messy, his coat layered with sweat, and he let out a massive yawn. He looked to his sofa and noticed his lavender and mulberry friends, the latter of whom held a thick tan book in her hooves.

The pair looked up as they heard the door open, and Berry Punch giggled at the sight of Pan. “How was work?” asked she, play in her voice.

Pan let out a heavy sigh. “I think that everypony in that kitchen today deserves a bonus; the Dinner Rush was ridiculous.” He then noticed Berry’s tome, and asked her, “what’s that?”

Before Berry answered, she inhaled the scent of Pan after his shift. She began to feel slightly nauseous, but shook it away before she spoke. “Before I tell you,” said she firmly, “go take a bath and smell better.”

Pan smelled his own hoof, contorting his face from his own odour. “See what we mean?” asked Daisy, holding a hoof over her own snout. “Go freshen up, please.”

“Oh, alright,” complied the stallion in defeat. “I’m outvoted anyway.” With that, he entered his washroom.

Pan’s washroom was just as maintained as the rest of his apartment, and he kept the off-white walls, floor, and utilities as clean as possible. There was a shelf above his bathtub, and the contents of it alerted the stallion. Instead of his regular shampoo and other cleansing products, on his shelf stood three pink and purple bottles of what he recognised as Daisy Dreamer’s preferred brands.

“Well,” thought Pan, “that stuff does work really well. Why not?” He then prepared a couple towels and started his shower.

After about half an hour passed, Pan Sear emerged from his washroom past a wall of steam. He had a towel wrapped around his mane, and another draped over his back. Both mares took in the scent of lilac and lavender. “That’s much better,” remarked Daisy.

With a giggle, Berry added, “you smell like Daisy, Pan.”

Pan rolled his eyes. “That’s because...” He was then interrupted by Daisy.

“I swapped his stallionly product for something more mare-like,” finished the lavender mare. “And it also works wonders on hair like ours.” She ran a hoof through her luscious, full mane to punctuate her statement.

“Yeah,” agreed Pan with a light blush, “what she said. Anyway, what’s that book of yours, Berry?”

“This,” answered the mare dramatically, “is a psychology book; one that contains everything that the entirety of Canterlot’s Psychological Academy knows about Transgenderism.”

The green stallion’s eyes brightened at the answer, and he smiled joyously. “Well,” beamed he, “what does the Canterlot Psychological Academy know?”

“It’s got an entire chapter on the topic," replied Berry. “Apparently,” explained she, opening to a page in the book, “it’s a very rare condition, with only a hoofful of reported cases in the last twelve years before this book was published.” She read a side note to herself and repeated it aloud, “although, many believe that many more ponies suffer from the condition, but there are so few reports because so many ponies with the condition withhold from reporting it.” She then looked to her friend and said, melancholy in her voice, “a lot like you, Pan; so many transgendered ponies who were afraid to tell anypony.”

Pan nodded slowly. “I see,” replied he, lost in thought. “What else is there?”

Daisy Dreamer’s ears perked as she remembered something she read in the book. “It’s not limited to ponies,” answered she. When Pan and Berry focused on her, she continued, “there have also been reported cases of Zebras, Ibex, and even Gryphons who are Transgendered.”

“It’s true,” confirmed the mulberry mare as she read another point. “And, from what the scientists can understand, it’s not inherited, nor developed later in life; it is, however, a condition that is observable from birth.”

The stallion nodded again, but appeared bored, as though he were listening to a professor give a lecture about a certain topic. “Hmm, so I was born with it,” mused he. “Does it say anything about how to solve the problem?”

Berry began flipping through more pages, while Pan craned his head to view the contents of the pages. The mare came to the end of the chapter, and read the last few sentences of the last page. “It says that the academy is researching ways to alter one of the two factors of the afflicted pony: physical or mental. They’ve apparently made more headway in the physical aspect, though it’s not a lot.”

“But,” added Daisy, more thinking to herself than telling her two friends, “this book was published several years ago. They certainly must have made more progress since then.”

The stallion shrugged. “Probably,” agreed he nonchalantly. “I’m not worried about it at this moment. I am, however, worried about sleep.”

The lavender unicorn nodded in agreement. “Yeah; I’ve got a date with Sweet tomorrow.”

Pan leaked a light chuckle at the confession. “So you two are an item now, eh?”

“Surprised?” Daisy cocked her head slightly as she posed the question.

Pan shook his head. “Not really. He's in the military, he's loyal to a fault, and also very kind."

With that, the lavender mare turned her head towards the main door and trotted out. “I thought not. See you tomorrow,” said she as she departed to her own apartment.

“So,” began Berry Punch cautiously, her eyes looking about the room, “should I just take the sofa?”

The stallion held up a hoof. “Not at all, Miss Punch,” said he in a proper tone. “There is a perfectly usable bed in the next room. I will sleep on the sofa for the duration of your stay.”

The mulberry mare giggled, her face shifting to crimson. “And you say you don’t spoil me.” She then gave her friend a quick hug and walked towards Pan’s bedroom. “Goodnight, Pan. See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Berry,” said the stallion with a yawn. When he heard the door close, he switched the lights to the room off and returned to the sofa. He put both pillows on one side and lay his head down, falling asleep rather quickly.

The next day, about an hour before Pan Sear had to be at Captain Salt’s, he and Berry Punch had went to have lunch at a small restaurant called Maestro Bistro.

While musicians played on stage inside the bistro, several ponies opted to eat out in the open air, among them were Pan and Berry. The pair idly conversed as they listened to the faint music and enjoyed their meals.

“So, Berry,” inquired Pan casually, “how’s Ponyville been treating you?”

The mare thought about the question for a few seconds before she answered. “Oh, not bad,” replied she. “It’s hectic, to say the least; you’d be surprised at what happens in such a small town.”

Pan nodded. “I’m sure I would. Would you mind giving me some examples?”

“Not at all,” assured Berry, giving emphasis with her hooves.

Meanwhile, Midnight Blue trotted about the city at a leisurely pace, and she passed by Maestro Bistro. She glanced at the ponies about the eatery, when she noticed her two friends, eating at a table and talking. The mare went unnoticed by the pair, and she stood where she was and watched them. Berry was talking with her hooves, every movement accentuating whatever she said. When the mare sat down, the two shared a laugh.

The blue mare felt her face as it shifted from blue to crimson. She grumbled under her breath as she trotted on.

Berry inhaled deeply, for she was out of breath from laughter. “Yeah,” answered she, “that was one of the greatest days I’ve had in that town.”

Pan followed Berry’s lead of taking a deep breath as he ceased to laugh as well. “I can imagine. Anyway, this has been great, but I have to get to work.”

The mare nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s pay and get out of here.”

“Let’s?” questioned Pan. “oh, no; this is my treat, Berry.” The stallion put a sufficient pay and tip on the table before Berry could inhale to reply. When the server came and picked up the pay, the pair left.

“So,” began Berry as the pair walked toward’s Pan’s workplace, “what should I do the rest of the day?”

Pan shrugged. “I don’t know; just walk around, enjoy the city, maybe visit Daisy or something.”

“You’re right. I’ll see you later, Pan.” The mare kissed Pan on the cheek before she cantered off to explore her home city.

When Pan arrived at Captain Salt’s, he found that his coworkers were rather early. “Thar she blows!” exclaimed the stallion’s boss from just outside his office. “Now we can get this galley rolling! Turn to, Crew!” The stallion shouted the orders, and then retired to his office.

Pan readied up in the locker room, and by the time he got to the kitchen, a few ponies had come in and placed orders. He looked over the orders, and began to command his crew. “Alright,” said he, authoritative as a general in a warzone, “let’s get this kitchen up and running. Cutting Board, get on these salads. Fish Fry, you’re on the fryer. Stove Top, you’re with me on the grill.” He tore the orders into each individual salad, platter, and side and distributed them to their corresponding cooks.

The Dinner Rush was dealt with flawlessly, the crew seamless between each order. Everypony cheered at another successful Dinner Rush; everypony except for Fish Fry, who was simply cooling down in the locker room. “Hey, Fry,” greeted Pan Sear joyously as he joined his friend. “Why aren’t you celebrating? That was an outstanding performance.”

The stallion shrugged. “It was okay,” said he dismissively. “Why don’t you go and celebrate with your crew?”

“You’re part of the crew, too,” answered Pan, “and you should be out there with us.” When the stallion didn’t move, Pan sat down next to him. “Look, Fry, I’m not only your superior to boss you around; I’m also here to help you. Now tell me, what’s up?”

With that, Fish Fry stood up as tall as he could and barked, “what’s up?!” Pan jumped at the sudden shout, but Fry continued nonetheless. “I’ll tell you what’s up; you’re out there, prancing about with that little cross-dressing thing of yours out in the open. Have you no shame, Pan?!”

“What are you talking about, Fry?” asked Pan, not showing the emotional pain his friend’s outburst caused. “There’s no shame in it, anyway.”

“That’s what YOU think,” retorted the fry cook. He lowered his tone to a calm level, and continued, “look; I’ll follow your orders in the kitchen, just like I always have, and I’ll do just as good a job as I always have. But, other than professional business in this kitchen, I want nothing to do with you, Pan.”

The green chef gave a nonchalant shrug. “Okay,” said he calmly, “whatever. Let’s just get back to work.” With that, the pair returned to the kitchen and went about their jobs as though nothing happened betwixt them.

In the very last hour of the Evening Shift, a dark, smokey grey Earth Stallion with a slick maroon mane trotted up to the bar. He wore a pair of glasses over his green eyes, and a slick stiletto knife adorned his flank, the saddlebag he wore bearing a similar motif.

“Welcome to Captain Salt’s,” greeted Pan Sear with a smile. “May I take your order?”

“Yeah,” answered the stallion in a high, nasal voice. “I’d like a plate of crayfish and a nice flagon of cider.”

Pan nodded as he scrawled down the order. He then gave the order to the cooks, who didn’t need the stallion’s help for such a small order.

“So,” began the grey stallion, “you the one they call Pan Sear?”

Pan nodded. “That’s me,” answered he, holding a hoof to the customer.

“Name’s Switch Blade,” replied the stallion, accepting the chef’s hoof.

By the time the pair had exchanged greetings, Switch’s food and drink were ready. Pan grabbed the platter while Cutting Board held the flagon, and they brought both to the stallion. “Much obliged,” thanked he as he took a sip of cider and began opening crayfish shells.

Pan and Switch talked idly while the latter ate his meal. after a few minutes, the grey stallion produced twenty or so bits from his saddlebag and placed them on the counter. “That was a Canterlot-quality meal, Pan. My compliments to the chef. Keep the change.” With that, he took a toothpick and chewed on it as he departed.

“Come back soon,” suggested Pan as Switch left. “What a nice stallion,” mused he as he and his crew began to clock out, a fresh shift of ponies waiting to take on Graveyard.

As Pan trotted down the street, the cool, night air soothing his body from hours of working in a hot kitchen, he heard a voice just ahead of him; Switch Blade’s voice.

“Yo, Pan,” said the grey stallion, worry in his tone although he was nowhere to be seen. “Pan, you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here, Switch!” called Pan as he trotted forward, his vision obscured by the inky cover of night. “Where are you?”

After a few seconds, Switch finally replied. “I’m back here in the alley. A.. a dumpster started rolling toward me, and my hoof’s trapped under it.” He sounded extremely urgent as he requested, “c.. could you come down here and help me out?”

“Yeah! I’m on my way." Without missing a beat, the green stallion galloped down the alley to the nearest dumpster he could see, but he didn’t see the grey stallion. “I’m by a dumpster, Switch; where are you?” beckoned he to nopony in particular.

“Right behind you,” answered Switch, the worry and urgency in his tone having completely vanished.

As Pan turned around, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, and then two more in rapid succession. The spots began to feel wet as the stallion collapsed from the pain.

When Pan’s eyes adjusted to the darkness a few seconds later, he could barely make out the shape of the grey stallion, holding a small switchblade knife dripping with something in his hoof. It took him another few seconds to process what had happened.

“Rule Number One around here, Buddy,” said Switch, a devious grin adorning his face, “and that’s never trust nopony. My pal, Blend, said you was causing him some problems.” He then paused and came mere centimetres from Pan’s face and said, “well, problem solved.” With that, he let out a malicious cackle as he trotted out of the alley.

Pan could only lay there, his blood pooling beneath him. He tried to speak, to scream, but no sound came from his muzzle. The only sound he could hear was Switch Blade’s laughter. Then, he heard a stallion begin to shout, and police sirens. His vision then faded to white, and he heard nothing.

Chapter 8

“Gangway! We’ve got a critical patient here!”

“What can you tell me, Nurse?”

“Substantial blood loss resulting from three consecutive stab wounds to the chest.”

“I see. Go prep the O.R. and have a room in the I.C.U. on standby; he may or may not live through the night.”

*************************************************************************************************

Fillydelhpia’s Central Hospital stood tall near the city centre, in close proximity to the police station and the fire station. Bright lights both inside and out gave a clear signal to anypony nearby that it was a hospital. Two mares were drawn to the facility by a rain-soaked police officer.

The light cream-coloured Pegasus Stallion trotted forward. His navy blue mane hung limply across his head and neck, his tail almost dragged the concrete, and his light armour weighed him down as much as the water. He didn’t show fatigue, however, and barely shivered from cold.

Berry Punch and Daisy Dreamer stood under an umbrella given to them by the officer. Their hearts raced as they followed the stallion through the main doors, into the hospital’s lobby.

In the lobby, the police officer and the two mares were greeted warmly by the nurse behind the reception desk.

After the nurse and officer spoke softly for a minute, the latter turned his head to face the mares following him. “Misses,” said he blankly, “a doctor will come find us in a short time to report to us about your friend.” He then trotted towards the rows of benches in the room and sat down. “We’ll be here waiting for them.”

The two mares sat down slowly, to one side of the stallion. “Umm, Sir,” stuttered Berry, anticipating the answer to her question. As the stallion turned to her, his brow raised, she swallowed and asked, “well, we were just wondering, do you know what happened? To Pan, that is.”

Looking into both mares’ eyes, his own eyes of maroon beamed sympathy as he took a breath and answered. “He was stabbed,” said he, his voice distant but caring, “three times in the chest by a stiletto knife in the hooves of a stallion called Switch Blade.”

After the officer finished his reply, Daisy Dreamer buried her face in her hooves, muffling her loud sobs. Berry then held the crying mare’s head to her chest to comfort her. “So, said the mulberry mare, “what happened to the stallion?”

With no hesitation, the officer replied, “justice is swift. He tried to murder your friend, and may very well still succeed. He’s on his way to Canterlot’s deepest, darkest dungeon as we speak, where he’ll stay for a very long time.”

Berry covered her mouth with a hoof as she gasped. “He may still succeed?” questioned she. “D.. does that mean that...”

“Yes,” interrupted the stallion. His tone became purely sympathetic as he continued, “I thought he was dead when I found him; he wasn’t. He’s still got a chance, for he’s in very capable hooves.”

“That he is,” said a stallion from behind the officer. He turned to see a dark cyan Earth Stallion with dark brown eyes. His spiky, unkempt mane matched his tail, and he wore a white lab coat with a red cross patch on either flank. His mildly high, baritone voice was accompanied by a very slight lisp. He then held a hoof towards the officer, who accepted. “I’m Dr. Late Night,” introduced he humbly. Once Berry introduced herself and Daisy, Night looked to a clipboard in his other hoof. “And, you pretty much summed up all we know at this point,” explained he. “Pan Sear is in surgery right now, and afterwards will be in Intensive Care for at least a day.”

Berry and the officer nodded. “That’s good news,” said the latter. He then turned to the mares and informed them, “I have to get going, now; I’ve got duties to attend to. I give my best wishes to you and your friend.” When Berry nodded, he took his umbrella and left the hospital.

Daisy managed to regain her composure as she held her head up. Her fetlocks and face were stained with tears, but she had calmed down significantly. She looked to the doctor before her, and said to him, “hi. I’m Daisy Dreamer. So sorry you have to see me like this.”

Late Night shrugged. “It’s okay,” assured he, “I’ve seen worse. Plus, you’re worried for your friend, so it’s understandable that you’d be upset.”

“Speaking of our friend,” said Berry, thinking about the question herself, “will she be okay? When will she be out of surgery?”

Night gave a look of confusion, but the confusion went away in less than a second as he replied, “who? Pan? He’ll be fine; If there are no complications, he’ll be out of the O.R. and into a room where you can visit in an hour or so.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “in fact, you two should probably get home; it’s late, and there’s no doubt you’ll be able to see him in the morning.”

Both mares glanced to each other, as if to exchange thoughts, before they nodded. “You’re right,” complied Daisy. “We’ll be back here first thing in the morning.”

“I’ll be here,” assured the doctor. To answer the stares given to him by the pair, he said defensively, “I stay up late a lot; I actually work days most of the time.”

Before Daisy and Berry made their way out the front doors, they were opened by Midnight Blue as she entered. Her violet mane was a mess, and she spoke in a panicked fluster. “I.. I.. I ran here as soon as I heard. Where is she? What happened? Is she alright?”

“Midnight! Midnight! Calm down,” beckoned Berry Punch, holding her hooves to her friend’s shoulders. “Look, Pan’s in surgery right now. We’ll all come back here in the morning to check on her. Okay?”

The blue mare’s breathing slowed as she calmed herself. Between breaths, she agreed. “Okay, okay. Now, can you at least tell me what happened?”

Berry nodded. As the three mares left the hospital building, midnight was informed of what had happened to Pan mere hours before.

Late Night stood where he was for a few seconds, in deep thought. “Eh, whatever,” said he with a shrug. “I’ll find out soon enough.”

After roughly a half hour passed, Pan Sear had been transferred from the Operating Room to a room in the hospital’s Intensive Care Unit. After another two hours, the nurse in Pan’s room jumped as the stallion gasped, followed by short breaths and rapid electronic beeps from his heart monitor. She turned to see that the green stallion was sitting up in his bed, his eyes darting about the room.

“Switch Blade!” shouted the stallion as he awoke. he caught a glimpse of the nurse before him, and backed up as far as he could. “Get away! It’s another trick!”

Without hesitation, the nurse grabbed Pan’s shoulders with her hooves. “Calm down,” begged she, “you’re in a hospital! You’re safe!”

As the pair struggled, the door to the room burst open, revealing a blazing orange Unicorn Stallion with a braided mane of burnt red. His cool aqua eyes contrasted with the rest of the stallion, and shone with concern and urgency. “What’s happening, Nurse?” asked he, his tone matching his expression.

“Delusions, Dr. Flame,” answered the white mare as she overpowered the stallion, holding him down firmly. “He woke up thinking I was somepony called Switch Blade.”

As the orange stallion approached, Pan exhaled deeply, relaxing his every muscle as he did so. A quick survey of the room told him where he was, but he asked anyway. “Where am I? Who are you?” His voice still sounded worried, but much calmer than it was prior.

The doctor fixed the front of his lab coat with his hooves. “My name is Healing Flame,” introduced he, “and this is Nurse Kindheart.”

“That’s right,” confirmed the mare at Flame’s side. “You’re in Fillydelphia Central Hospital. You’re safe here, Mr. Sear.” She spoke tenderly to calm the injured stallion.

Healing Flame nodded. “Do you remember what happened?”

Pan nodded. “Vaguely,” replied he honestly. “I remember Switch Blade, pain in my chest, and bleeding; a lot of bleeding.

Over the next hour, the doctor and nurse explained that Pan had been brought to hospital, and that he needed surgery for his stab wounds. They also informed him that he’d have to stay in Intensive Care for at least two days, and that he’d have visitors in the morning. After the discussion, the pair left Pan to sleep, which he did.

The next morning, the green stallion was woken up by a gentle nudge to his hoof. He groggily opened his eyes, and was met by what he recognised as Midnight Blue’s emerald irises. “Hey, Sleepyhead,” greeted she softly, a matching smile in her muzzle.

“Hey,” replied Pan. He sat up and began to stretch his forelegs, but a sharp pain in his chest caused him to draw his legs back with a grunt.

“Whoa; the doctor said stretching could open those wounds back up, Pan.” The mare spoke sternly, but left a bit of play in her tone.

The stallion nodded. “Right; better not do that, then.”

Midnight’s smile then widened to a bright grin. “By the way, you’ve got more guests.” She turned and motioned a hoof to a bench on the opposite side of the room. On the bench sat two more mares: Daisy Dreamer and Berry Punch.

“Hey, Girls,” greeted Pan happily at the sight of his two friends. Both trotted over to him gleefully as he addressed them. “How’ve you been?”

“Worried sick about you,” replied Berry, worry in her tone. “And we still are. Are you alright?”

The stallion waved a dismissive hoof. “I’ll be fine. I’m all patched up; just a couple weeks and I’ll be good as new.”

“You’re awfully optimistic,” stated a familiar voice as Late Night entered the room. Everypony focused on him, and he backed up defensively as a response. ”Whoa, calm down; I just came here to tell you that visitation’s almost over.” He thought for a second before he added, “and, you’re right; a few weeks or more and the wounds will be healed up.”

All four ponies nodded. One by one, Daisy, Berry, and Midnight filed out of the room. Midnight took a few seconds to quickly kiss Pan’s cheek before she caught up to the others.

The four ponies walked slowly through the hallways of the hospital, and boarded a lift going to the ground floor. Noticing that they were alone, Night posed a question. “By the way,” said he carefully, “last night, you three kept referring to Pan as “her” and “she;” why is that?”

Daisy and her friends felt what they thought was one another’s heart stop. “Umm, slip of the tongue,” answered the lavender mare, though it sounded more like a suggestion than a reply.

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” retorted the doctor. “Only once, maybe twice is a slip of the tongue. Every single pronoun you use referring to Pan isn’t. Please tell me?”

Berry Punch glanced to each of her friends, who both gave granting nods. “Well,” said she, “there’s this psychological condition known as Transgenderism.”

As the four ponies strolled casually through hallway after hallway to the hospital’s lobby, each mare took a turn explaining a bit of Pan’s Transgenderism to the doctor, who was utterly fascinated by the whole thing. “That’s astounding,” complimented he, scrawling notes down on a pad he kept in his coat. “I’m not kidding; that is absolutely remarkable.” With his notes written, he replaced the pad in his pocket. “Look; I have a small class I’m teaching this and that about medicine, and that would be an excellent bit to cover.”

Daisy nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that I would like to know if you’d let me teach my little class about this ‘Transgenderism.’” After a few seconds of silence, he added, “I won’t give any names.”

The three mares silently exchanged thoughts for a minute. “Okay,” answered Midnight, “teach them whatever you like about the subject; we’re sure Pan won’t mind, either.”

“Yes!” Night drew his forehooves to his chest in victory. “Thank you; thank you so much!” said he gratefully.

“It’s not a problem, Doctor,” assured all three mares simultaneously as they left the hospital.

Night turned face and began to trot back to continue his rounds. “This will be amazing,” mused he. “The colts in Canterlot will never believe this.”

Chapter 10

Pan began to stir in his hospital bed as he woke up. His vision blurred as he tried to look about the room, but all he saw were shadows. He then began to focus on himself; he was sore all over and he felt different, namely smaller. “Ugh, what happened?” said he, covering his mouth with a hoof as he heard his own voice. “My.. my voice!” His voice was lighter, higher, and all around more feminine than he remembered.

“That’s not the least of it,” informed Doctor Stitch, relief in his baritone voice. His eyes clearly showed a lack of sleep. He then drew a sigh as he added, “we’re just glad you’re alive.” The other two doctors voiced their agreement at the statement.

“We are, too,” said Midnight Blue as she approached her friend. She put a hoof on Pan’s shoulder as she sincerely stated, “and, congratulations, Pan.”

Pan raised a brow at the congratulation. “Congratulations? Why?”

“Post-Operative Amnesia,” informed one of the doctors. “We expected that much. Just give her time; it’ll come to her.”

Midnight nodded. “Take your time, Sweetie,” said she as she stepped back to Berry Punch and Daisy Dreamer’s sides.

Pan slowly began to slide out of the bed and onto his hooves. He looked to his three friends, and a small makeup kit encased in a royal blue glow floated over to him. “Thanks.” Looking through the mirror, Pan saw his own face. However, his face was different; not only more feminine, but entirely female.

“Now do you understand the congrats, Pan?” asked the cyan mare, smugness in her tone.

Pan gasped. “I.. I.. I,” stuttered she, “I’m a mare?!” When everypony in the room nodded with smiles, the new mare fell to her haunches, tears welling in her eyes. She glanced downwards, and then returned her view to everypony else. “I.. I really am a mare.”

The six ponies trotted to Pan, and Berry Punch spoke. “A beautiful one, at that,” said she tenderly, embracing her friend tightly.

“Ow!” exclaimed Pan as she softly pushed Berry away. She felt a pain in her chest from the hug, and a quick glance at her chest revealed three grotesque, raised scars. She poked at them with her hoof, and they were painful to touch. “What are these?”

“Those are the scars from where you were previously stabbed,” informed Doctor Stitch, defeat in his tone as he added, “we did what we could, but when your body shrank slightly, the scars didn’t. We’re terribly sorry.”

Pan shrugged, wiping a couple tears from her face. “It’s okay,” assured she. “I can’t be too picky now, can I?”

Midnight sat down beside the green mare. “You know,” mused she, “I don’t think it’s all that bad; it makes you look tough, like me.” She then flexed her foreleg to punctuate her statement.

With a light giggle, Pan replied, “you’re right, Blue; scars are cool, anyway.”

“That’s the spirit, Pan!” said Daisy Dreamer as she entered the conversation. “And do you know what the perfect inauguration for a mare would be?” When Pan shrugged and bade the lavender unicorn continue, she answered, “being a bridesmaid!” She then produced an envelope from her saddlebag and gave it to Pan. “Midnight and Berry already got theirs.”

Pan nodded happily. “I’d love to, Daisy,” said she as she gave her lavender friend a hug, taking care not to cause herself pain. She then felt her stomach churn from hunger. “Say, said she to her friends, “what say you that we go get something to eat; I’m famished.”

The three doctors looked to each other to silently exchange thoughts, and Doctor Stitch gave a shrug as he answered, “if you’re good enough to walk, then you should be more than ready to have a quick bite. We honestly thought you’d be a lot weaker physically upon waking up.”

With the doctors’ permission, the four mares exited the room and headed for a restaurant to have lunch. “You know,” mused Pan, “I’ve been thinking; what about my name?”

“I don’t know,” replied Berry with a shrug, “what about your name?”

“Well,” answered the green mare, “I’ve been considering changing it.” When her three friends asked why, she clarified, “well, you see, a pony is permitted to change their name when they earn their Cutie Mark, and it doesn’t match their name.”

The mares nodded. “So, what does that have to do with you?”

“I’m getting to that,” said Pan with a wave of her hoof. “Well, if something as big as this changes about a pony, don’t you think they’d be entitled to a name change?”

“I think that’s a capital idea, My Little Pony,” answered Princess Celestia’s voice from behind the mares. They stopped in their tracks and turned to see the Princess herself, standing right with them. When they bowed, she rolled her eyes and said playfully, “why does everypony do that? I came here to check up on Pan, not issue a decree.”

“Terribly sorry, Your Majesty,” apologised Daisy as the ponies rose to their hooves.

The Princess shrugged. “Forgiven,” said she nonchalantly. “Anyway, what is it you’d like your name changed to, Pan?”

Pan leaned against a wall as she thought. “Well, I’m a cook; I sear fish and other foods for a living.” She visualised her work environment: the aroma of the kitchen, the sizzling sound of the grill, and how she cooked. “I’ve sautéed everything from albacore to zucchini.” She hissed as she pronounced the words, “Sauté Sizzle” repeatedly. “Yeah, I like Sauté Sizzle.”

Unanimously, the green mare’s friends agreed that they were fond of the chosen name. “Right, then,” answered the Princess, “I will see to it that everypony refers to you by your new name, Miss Sauté Sizzle.”

“You will?” questioned the green mare, cocking her head. “Really?”

The Princess smiled smugly and nodded her head. “Indeed, I will,” said she. “I do have a little bit of pull in the government; I think I could get the records changed.” With a wink, the Princess went on her way.

A week passed, and Pan, having legally changed her name to Sauté Sizzle, entered her apartment for the first time in weeks. Berry Punch had since returned to her home in Ponyville, so the green mare was by herself. “Oh, finally!” shouted she in triumph, “I didn’t think I’d miss this place so much!” She fell back on her sofa joyously and drew a heavy sigh of relief. She fell asleep on her sofa, and slept through the rest of the day and night.

When Sauté woke up, she took a survey of her surroundings, and herself. “Yep,” said she to herself, “it wasn’t a dream.” She stretched as she stood on her hooves. She then trotted to her record player and looked over her collection. “I wonder,” thought she aloud as she grabbed a record sleeve from the stack, placed it on her player, and dropped the needle.

Before the first track of the older, heavy metal record ended, Sauté began to sing along joyously and shamelessly. “I’ve been living on the edge of a broken heart! I don’t want to fall; I don’t want to crawl!” She pulled her hooves to her scarred chest as she matched the long, final note of the song to the best of her ability. She nearly jumped, however, when she heard applause from behind her.

“Bravo, Sweetie,” commended Daisy Dreamer as she slowly walked into her friend’s apartment. “You’ve got exceptional pipes.”

Sauté dug at the floor with her hoof, a heavy blush on her green face. “Oh, you heard that?” questioned she, certain of the answer. “Sorry.”

The lavender mare held up a hoof. “Don’t be sorry, Sizzly,” insisted she, “you sing wonderfully.”

“Thanks,” said Sauté sincerely as she shut off her record player. “What can I help you with, anyway, Daisy?”

With a shrug, Daisy replied, “not much; just thought I’d check on you before I head to work. By the way, Captain Salt will be expecting you at work at the normal time tomorrow.”

Sauté nodded. “I’ll be there. Have a nice day, Daisy.”

As the lavender unicorn departed, the green mare started to feel her stomach show signs of hunger. In response, she decided to cook herself breakfast. As she prepared her meal, a knock at the door interrupted her focus. “Who can it be now?” wondered she as she answered the knock. Her magenta eyes went wide as she saw her guest.

Over Cast’s red eyes were just as wide as Sauté’s when she looked over the mare before her. “P.. Pan?” stuttered she, aghast at the sight.

“Hello, Mom,” greeted Sauté, her tone somber.

Cast started to feel her eyes well with tears. “I.. I heard the rumours,” stammered she, stepping to her new daughter and wrapping her in a loving embrace. “But, I never thought I’d ever have such a beautiful daughter!”

The green mare couldn’t contain herself any longer; she sobbed with joy at her mother’s innate kindness. “Thanks, Mom,” thanked she sincerely. “That means more than you could imagine.”

When the pair ended the embrace, silence ensued for a few seconds, until Sauté nervously asked her mother. “So, is Dad on his way here?”

Over Cast shook her head. “He doesn’t even know I’m here. It’s for the best.” Both mares nodded in agreement. “Well, I guess I should get going.”

Sauté held up a hoof. “I wouldn’t dare send my own mother away without at least offering her a bite for breakfast.”

“No, thanks,” declined the faded blue pegasus humbly. “You enjoy your day, Pan.”

Sauté nodded. “You too, Mom,” replied she. As an afterthought, she told her mother, “by the way, I changed my name; It’s now Sauté Sizzle.”

As Over Cast exited the apartment, she smiled warmly and commented, “that’s a beautiful name for my beautiful daughter, Sauté.” With that, she left.

The next day, at a couple hours past midday, Sauté and Daisy Dreamer sat in the latter’s living space. “So,” began the lavender unicorn, “the wedding’s only a week away; have you got a dress for the occasion?”

The green mare nodded. “I stopped by a store in Canterlot and picked up some slippers to match my dress.”

“And,” nervously began Daisy, “is said dress right for a wedding? You are a bridesmaid, after all.”

“Yeah; it’s pretty basic, but formal. As long as you don’t care if it’s blue.”

Daisy shrugged. “What kind of blue, exactly?”

Sauté pointed a hoof to her long, cyan mane. “This kind.”

The lavender mare’s eyes brightened as she beamed a large grin. “That’s perfect!” She then gave her friend a hug and informed her, “you should be fine, then. I’ll see you, Berry, and Midnight then, Sweetie!”

“Indeed,” agreed Sauté. “I have to get to work now. I’ll see you then.”

As the green mare entered her workplace, she was greeted by Captain Salt. “Pan ho!” shouted he across the restaurant. He trotted over to his employee and gave her a hug. “Oi, it’s good to see you, Pan! You’re looking great!”

“Thank you, Captain,” replied the chef. “By the way, the name’s Sauté Sizzle now; I had it legally changed.”

The grey stallion nodded. “Aye, I’ll change the paperwork, then. In the meantime, turn to, Chef Sizzle!” When he gave the order, he retired to his office, and Sauté went to ready up in the locker room.

The green mare’s apron covered most of her scars, and so she confidently trotted into her kitchen to meet her crew.

Cutting Board, Fish Fry, and Stove Top stared at the mare in varying levels of awe. Cutting Board was the first to break the silence. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, but her eyes were still wide as she viewed Sauté. “Pan,” said she in astonishment, “you’re a mare? You’re really, for real a mare?”

When Sauté nodded to confirm, Stove Top also spoke. “That’s amazing!” remarked he. “I mean, it’s awesome; congratulations, Pan.” With that, the two cooks began to applaud.

Fish Fry rolled his eyes and interrupted the congratulations. “That’s it,” barked he, “I’m through with this. Everypony in this restaurant is crazy!” He then removed his apron and tossed it at the mare. “Find a new cook, Pan; I’m out of here!”

As the stallion angrily walked out of the kitchen, and subsequently the diner, Stove Top gave a nonchalant shrug. “I didn’t like him anyway,” remarked he.

“Nor did I,” agreed Cutting Board. “But, will we last this Dinner Rush without him?”

Sauté looked to the other two cooks, a brow raised. “You tell me. It’s only one day; plus, I can take his place for today.” She then gave a rallying shout. “Can we beat the Dinner Rush?!”

“Yeah! Let’s do it!” shouted Stove Top and Cutting Board. Almost on cue, the Dinner Rush began. The trio successfully worked through the rush, though they were all exhausted by the time it had subsided.

Another week passed, and Sauté Sizzle stood with Berry Punch and Midnight Blue, among two other bridesmaids in Fillydelphia Central Park for Daisy Dreamer’s and Citrus Sweet’s wedding.

Citrus stood, in formal military dress, to one side of an altar, looking towards the crowd. Several other ponies, including Captain Salt, stood in the crowd in their military dress uniforms, as well as six stallions in similar dress to Sweet’s, holding sabres to their sides.

After a few seconds, Daisy Dreamer slowly trotted down the aisle towards the altar, escorted by her father, a rugged-faced Unicorn Stallion in contrastingly formal dress. When her father took his place in the crowd, Daisy trotted to her groom’s side.

The aged stallion before the pair wore an exceptionally decorated military uniform, and three stars adorned either shoulder. “Dear family and friends,” announced he in a monotone that couldn’t be ignored, “we are gathered here today in the sight of Princesses Celestia and Luna, and the Department of the Equestrian Army, to witness this exchange of vows, and see the love that these two dedicated, loving ponies have for one another.” He went through the procedure as he had many times before, and just as flawlessly as the many times before.

The pair took the vows, and, at announcement from the General, Daisy Dreamer and Corporal Citrus Sweet were married. They trotted happily through the arch of sabres created by the six soldiers lining the aisle, and the reception began shortly after.

After the cutting of the cake, a few minutes of dancing, and an orchestral performance of the Equestrian army March, the five bridesmaids were gathered in a small group before the carriage that was going to ferry the newly wedded couple away.

Sauté Sizzle stood next to Midnight Blue, who wore a similar dress to that of the green mare. “There’s no way I’m catching that thing,” marked the blue unicorn, looking at Daisy, who held a ceremonial bouquet.

“I second that,” agreed Sauté. The two mares shared a laugh and proceeded to bump their forehooves together.

As the pair’s hooves connected, the bouquet came between them, and was held in place by their hooves. Midnight Blue’s eyes widened as she barely noticed a faint blue glow dissipate from around the small bunch of flowers.

Sauté shared her friend’s awestruck look. They shared a glance, and retracted their forelegs as their faces shifted to a deep scarlet. The bouquet fell to the ground, and both mares nervously glanced about, not saying a word.

Chapter 9

The hallway was still: quiet, with nary a pony in sight. Pan Sear drew a sigh of relief as he trotted to his apartment door. He had bandages covering most of his chest, and was told to keep them on for several more days. He produced a key from his saddlebag and unlocked his door. He opened the wooden door slowly with a creak, and was caught completely off guard by the inside.

“Surprise! Welcome home, Pan!” shouted four ponies in unison as the green stallion opened the door.

Pan drew back quickly in shock. After a second, he regained his composure and entered his apartment with a smile. “Hey, Everypony,” said he joyously. “Isn’t just visiting me enough?”

Everypony shook their heads. “Nope,” said Berry, “what fun would that be?”

“Plus,” added Citrus Sweet, the only other stallion in the room, “I wouldn’t have gotten to make all these treats if there was no party.” He motioned with a hoof to Pan’s dinner table, which was filled with all manner of dessert and pastry made by the yellow confectioner.

“And I wouldn’t get to do this!” Midnight Blue slid a record from it’s cardboard case into Pan’s turntable, and dropped the needle on it. “Fillies and Gentlecolt,” announced she with gusto, “may I present the opening act of CanterRock!” With that, “Start Me Up,” a Classic Rock anthem, began to play.

Everypony danced to the music, and then sat down to have some of Sweet’s pastries. “Allow me.” The yellow stallion took the liberty of slicing everypony a piece of orange torte.

“Thanks, Sweetie,” said Daisy as she brushed the yellow stallion’s face with a hoof. She then took her place beside him.

Midnight rolled her eyes. “Oh, quit beating about the bush and marry each other already!”

Everypony shared a laugh at the remark, and then they began to gather about the table.

The ponies savoured the delicacy with each bite. “Ow!” exclaimed Daisy as she felt herself bite what she thought was a piece of metal. Her horn began to glow, as did the foreign object in the torte’s orange filling. She licked off the jam and gasped at what she saw. She beheld an intricately crafted white golden ring adorned with a diamond flanked by two deep blue sapphire stones.

“Well, look at that,” remarked Sweet, feign surprise in his tone. “Isn’t that convenient? I was just about to ask you something, Daisy.”

The lavender mare’s face grew a deep crimson blush as she covered her mouth with a hoof. “Ci.. Citrus,” stammered she, at a loss for words, “of course I will!”

The three other ponies applauded the scene, and a giggle emanated from Midnight’s blue muzzle. “I knew it!” exclaimed she once the applause ceased. “I called it right here and right now.”

Sweet nodded. “That you did, Blue,” agreed he, genuinely impressed by the prediction.

As the ponies enjoyed more of Citrus Sweet’s desserts and listened to music, a knock at the door interrupted the festivities. “Hmm, who could that be?” mused Pan as he trotted to his door and opened it.

In the entrance to Pan’s apartment stood a white Pegasus Stallion. He wore shining golden armour and his ice blue eyes were expressionless. “I’ve been sent here for the one they call Pan Sear,” said he in an authoritative monotone.

“Umm,” stammered Pan, “that’s me, Sir.”

“Don’t call me ‘Sir;’ I’m a sergeant,” ordered the stallion, the line sounding rehearsed.

Pan nodded nervously. “Right,” agreed he. “So, Sergeant, what do you want with me?”

“Yeah,” added Midnight as she stepped to her friend’s side, “is there a problem?” The mare stood as tall as she could before the guard, but he didn’t flinch or falter.

The sergeant blinked. “I mean your friend no harm, Miss; stand down.”

At the guard’s order, Midnight relaxed, but still stood firm. “Fine; but, why are you here, anyway?”

Without missing a beat, the Royal Guard explained, “I was sent here by Her Highness, Princess Celestia, to fetch your green friend and escort him to Canterlot.”

“Well what for?” asked the blue mare, not satisfied with the answer.

“Sorry, Ma’am,” replied the white guard, “Need to Know Basis only.”

Pan put a hoof on his friend’s shoulder. “Relax, Blue,” urged he, sincerity in his tone as he assured her, “I’ll be fine.” With that, he trotted to the stallion’s side.

As he closed the door, the stallion said to the four ponies, “Pan will return in exactly four weeks’ time; you will be able to visit in three. We’ve sent word to his employer, and the absence will be a paid vacation.”

The pair trotted through the apartment building in silence. They exited the building where the guard led Pan to Fillydelphia’s Central Train Station, where an intricately deigned train waited.

The interior of the car the pair entered was just as brilliant as the exterior, complete with a couple tables and sofas. They sat down and rode in silence, until Pan spoke after about an hour.

“So,” began he nervously, “why is it that I’m wanted in Canterlot, Sergeant?”

The guard shrugged. “I said ‘Need to Know Basis’ because I myself am not sure.” He sounded to have abandoned his official tone, and spoke laxly. “All I was told was to scoop you up and get you on this train.”

“I see.” The green stallion felt uncomfortable at the uncertainty, but shrugged it off as he sparked a conversation with the guard. “So, began he, “what’s it like, being a Royal Guard.”

A few hours later, the train came to a stop in Canterlot’s Train Station. The two stallions stepped out into the station, and were greeted by two more Royal Guards: one a unicorn and the other and Earth Stallion.

“We’ll take him from here, Sergeant,” said the Unicorn Stallion as he and his comrade trotted towards Pan.

The pegasus nodded. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” replied he as he was dismissed.

The trio then walked casually out of the station and through the lush capital city. “Where exactly is it you two are taking me?” asked Pan impatiently. “The sergeant didn’t know; do either of you?”

The unicorn nodded. “We’re escorting you to Canterlot’s International Hospital,” answered he nonchalantly. “There, the Princess will be waiting.”

Pan’s eyes widened at the mention of the Princess. “Umm,” stammered he, “why is she waiting for me? What does she want?”

“I don’t know,” replied the guard, honesty leaking in his monotone. “She said it’s a matter to be discussed with you and you alone.”

After nearly an hour, the trio arrived at Canterlot’s massive hospital. The building’s inside and outside shone with pearly brilliance for which the city is renowned. At the reception desk of the lobby stood a pink Unicorn Mare with a faded green mane, tied in a bun and covered by a nurse’s tiara. “Good day, Sirs,” greeted she cheerfully. “I take it you know where to go?”

Both guards nodded, and led the green stallion through the winding corridors of the building. They were greeted happily by every passerby, staff and patient alike. They then boarded a lift to the top floor, where they bade Pan go into a room marked by a golden sun motif.

Pan rubbed his eyes with a hoof to confirm what he saw: Princess Celestia herself stood before him, flanked by three Unicorns in white lab coats. He bowed respectfully when he was certain of what he saw.

“Rise, My Little Pony,” ordered the Princess, her tone firm but calming. “Now, I’m sure you are wondering why you’re here, right?”

As Pan rose, he replied, “that’s an understatement, Your Highness. Nopony told me anything useful. Might I ask just why I’m here?”

The Princess nodded. “Of course you may ask. You are here because you suffer from a very rare psychological condition.”

The green stallion raised an inquisitive brow. “How did you know about that, Your Highness?”

With a giggle, the Princess answered, “your Princess has her ways, Pan Sear. Now, you’re here before these, the three most skilled doctors in Equestria, because of a recent breakthrough in the field of Transgender Medicine. Do explain, Doctor Stitch.” With that, she stepped back to make way for the aforementioned stallion.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” said the doctor humbly as he stepped forward. “You see, our greatest medical researchers work hoof-in-hoof with Equestria’s greatest mages. Up until recently, the reshaping of a pony’s physical form and anatomy was but a theory. Until, that is, the mages concocted a long-forgotten spell to do just that. We’ve tested it on various accident victims with tremendous results. Last month, a psychologist theorised that use of the spell could be extended to psychological issues, namely Transgenderism.”

Pan nodded at the lecture of an explanation, having understood most of it. “So,” wondered he aloud, “why did you find me?”

“We didn’t have to,” answered the Princess. “Yesterday, a doctor gave a small presentation about general medicine in this very hospital. I was observing when the topic was discussed, and so after the presentation, I asked the doctor if he knew of anypony suffering from that condition.”

“Well who told them?” Pan grew more and more confused at each word.

“It is unknown, even to me,” replied the Princess honestly. “Now, this procedure has only been on paper until today. It will reshape every bone and particle in your body into that of a female.”

“You will have to be unconscious for several days while the spell slowly works,” added Doctor Stitch. “if we did it any quicker, each and every bone in your body would shatter from the rapid morphing, and certainly be fatal.”

When Pan nervously swallowed a bit of air, the doctor continued, “but not to worry; the process will be slow enough so as not to do that.”

The Princess nodded. “And, it can thus far only be conceivably done on Earth Ponies. If you had the hollow, thin bones of a Pegasus, we couldn’t do this; if you had the arcane resistance of a Unicorn, the slow reshaping of your body would reverse itself and we couldn’t do this. Your thick, strong bones and lack of magical resistance make you perfect to undergo this process. Will you accept our offer in the name of Medicine and Magic?”

Pan began to feel lightheaded. “I can’t believe this,” thought he to himself, “this can’t actually be happening.” He then looked to the Princess and said, “this sounds too good to be true, Your Highness.”

“Maybe it is,” replied she. “If you do not wish to subject yourself to the experimental procedure, we will not force you.”

“I never said that, Your Highness,” said the green stallion, “I just have to think some more. On one hoof, my Transgenderism could be solved; but on the other hoof, there’s a risk I could die in the process.”

The Princess craned her neck so her head was mere centimetres from Pan’s. “Is that a risk you’re willing to take, My Little Pony?” Her tone was soft, and she was genuinely concerned for the green stallion.

Pan took a deep breath and, as he exhaled, said only one word. “Yes.”

The three doctors and the Princess nodded. “Very well, then,” said Stitch. “Now, if you would, please lie down on the bed, and we can begin.”

The stallion nodded and complied. He saw a faint magenta shadow encase his form, and he felt drowsy. Then, his vision faded to inky blackness.