It’s been a long time since my last day off, and longer since my last trip to the daylit side of Manehattan. Even though downtown Dayside’s glass skyscrapers are all treated with a powerful anti-glare coating, and despite my broad-rimmed hat, it’s too sunny here; my eyes are smarting in the light. Because all Manehattan's foals live in Dayside, I’m roasting under my modest, mark-concealing dress, and with all the buildings being made of glass, shade is rare. The ponies who live their completely open lives here are probably used to this; I’ve passed a few on my way along the streets, all with bright smiles for everypony around them.

Despite my eyes and the heat, it’s easy to smile back. The more social nature of the ponies here strikes a pleasant contrast to the omnipresent sexuality of my place in the Twilight; while it’s not my preference, I can understand why ponies love to live here.

A block down, one building stands out. It’s an opaque stone structure, far shorter and narrower than the surrounding offices and condominiums. Its massive spire, topped by a brilliant golden sunburst, marks it as one of the few churches I’ve come across; right now, though, all I see is sweet, blessed shade. I make my way there quickly, and step inside.

It’s almost like stepping into the Princess’s own throne room, and a whole other world from the hustle and noise outdoors. Rather than windows, the walls are lined with the familiar sunburst of the Princess’s cutie mark. Each high, broad mark glows gently and casts the simple and open nave, with its aisles and all the ponies seated in rows of pews, in the gentle light of the late afternoon sky outside of the Twilight. It’s almost as if everything and everypony within is made of gold. The air is full of murmuring, and holds just a hint of dust beneath a layer of floral and spicy aromas.

Looking up, I spy a yellow pegasus with a bag of candles replacing and lighting a section of the great chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling. I’ll have to talk to him later; he has the biggest cock I’ve seen in months, if the mass of his sheath is any indicator. Above and around him, the ceiling and the walls around the glowing sunbursts are clouds, and I have to check the carpeted floor again to make certain I’m still on the ground; if they’re not the real thing, there’s a painter somewhere who deserves more recognition.

At the far end of the aisles is a raised lectern, currently unoccupied, with another sunburst on the side facing the assembled ponies; presumably, this is where the Princess speaks when she chooses to appear. In the corners on either side of the lectern stand two large kettles that quietly pour fragrant steam into the air; more interesting is the pony feeding one of them from a sack of dried flowers and herbs.

It’s her, the one hazy blue-white pegasus whose dick and name I never got! She spots me, too; before I can decide whether to interrupt her, she sets aside her sack with a smile and takes a few wing-assisted hops down the side aisle towards me.

“I remember you! Missus Bucket!” Her voice and smile are excited, and without the stammer, barely-washed smell, and lack of eye contact, she’s even more lovely than I remember. Her tone is hushed as she wraps her forelegs and wings around me in a quick hug, which I take as an opportunity to glance over her shoulder at her rear; it’s fuller and more curvaceous than before. “It’s lovely to see you again. I didn’t think you’d visit my church; you didn’t feel like the Dayside type to me.”

“It’s not normally my thing, sweetie.” I keep my voice down with hers as we move to a pew to lie down together. “I just felt like something different today. That led me here, so it can’t be bad; I thought I might never see you again.”

“Maybe Celestia brought you here, like she brought me to you?” She smiles again as she shuffles about in her cushioned seat. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell where we end and she begins.” Her smile turns sheepish for a moment. “And I am sorry—I keep meaning to visit you, but I’m so busy now, with a church to run and a family to love. You know how it is, right?”

I shrug. “Not entirely. I have my club, but the Princess made me without a family.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry—”

I hold up one hoof to stop her. “Don’t be, honey. Think for a second. If she’d given a pony like me parents and memories of a foalhood, how do you think that would go?” She tilts her head for a moment, looking at me inquisitively… then gags. I chuckle. She gets it—who wants to know how a young filly gets a cutie mark for sucking dicks? Who wants to struggle to keep her love of dicks and at least one or two of her parents having dicks from combining into a problem, even in adulthood?

I gag. Time for a new topic. “So, why a church?”

She smiles again, and glances around the walls before turning her attention back to me.

“Oh, that’s a bit of a story, but I always wanted to be part of one.” I nod for her to continue, but her smile vanishes. “I… Back on Earth, I was raised Catholic like everypony else in Brazil at the time, but I think my parents must have told a lot of ponies when they threw me out for being ‘too girly’ and calling myself a mare. I wasn’t allowed in any of the churches there anymore, and it’s really hard to stay faithful when you aren’t allowed in God’s house.”

She sighs, leaning against the back of the pew. “It wasn’t all bad. There was a priest from out of town, and when she was around to keep one of the churches from having to skip a service because there weren’t enough clergy… well, she couldn’t keep everypony from throwing me out, but sometimes she’d let me into the rectory after services. We would read the bible and pray together, and I’d have somewhere warm and safe to sleep afterwards. It was… It was really nice.

“When I came here and things got better, I brought that with me. All the churches were so welcoming—just like what you told me—but they were glass and had too many distractions with everything going on outside, so I got a few ponies together and built this one. It’s not quite what I imagined without a priest or any real organization, but it’s a lovely place to come and think about Celestia, or just for a few minutes of quiet to collect myself. I think that’s what I really needed.” By the end, she’s smiling again, and I smile back.

“It sounds like things are finally going your way, honey.”

“Oh, they are!” Her wings flutter as she shifts in her seat. “I have a lovely church, a beautiful, loving wife, the best possible friends, good food, a warm home—” she sniffles, and I catch tears welling up in her eyes “—and the doctors say I’m pregnant, and I—I—” She can’t complete the sentence, and I pull her into a hug and let her cry. While she does, I get a look at her cutie mark: five of Celestia’s sunbursts, arranged in a plus pattern. It’s incredibly rare for ponies to have the Princess’s cutie mark within their own; I’ll have to ask her about it some time.

“I’m sorry,” she says after a minute, and I let go of her. She dabs at her eyes with her fetlocks. “Two and a half years, and I’m still not used to being so happy. It feels like everything really is working out.”

“Don’t be sorry.” I take a second to shake my mane back into place. “I’m glad to see you’re doing so much better. I thought you told me you wanted a stallion, though?”

“Yeah.” She gives me a weak smile. “I was never interested in mares before, but my Honey Cake was just… perfect.”

I pout, overplaying it so she’ll know I’m not serious. “That’s my pet name, for my stallion, you know.”

She blinks. “What? I—Oh! No no, I didn’t mean to take that from you. That’s actually her name, and it suits her perfectly.”

Oh. That makes sense. Another question itches at my mind. “So, I think I’ve told you how my stallion and I got together.” She nods. “Your turn, then, honey. And I’d love to know who’s the father.”

“Well.” She stammers for a moment, but it gets better quickly as she lowers her voice. “When she… found out about me, you—well, you were right. She wasn’t upset. She, ah…” The pegasus hesitates, and a blush creeps up her muzzle. “She wanted one too. And when I tried to warn her off with how much I hated it, she suggested we trade. Then she wanted to—to try it out, and she wanted to try things with me before even thinking about anypony else...”

Her stutter returns, and her blush intensifies. It’s so cute I could kiss her, or maybe something more interesting if the light were lower... but there are some things you just don’t do in broad daylight. “I was a lot more comfortable without it, and she was a lot more comfortable with it, and she made me happy in so many ways. I couldn’t say no, and everything’s just been spiraling upward ever since.” She pauses to take a long breath, and the color in her cheeks fades a little. “I have so much to thank Celestia for. It’s why I’m here today in particular, besides keeping the kettles fed.”

That’s not a story I’d heard before. Sometimes, ponies do trade places with one of their special others—I even tried it with my stallion once, but like so many others, it didn’t last. I missed his treating me as a sex toy and wasn’t able to bend far enough to suck “my” dick, and while he enjoyed fooling around in my body, he missed having a dick and a pony to use on it however he liked. The Princess’s permission and help had been, as it nearly always is, more to teach us about ourselves than to lead to a more permanent change. This mare must truly be something special, even if neither she nor I understand how.

“And thank you, too,” she says.

“What?”

“For not hiring me. You were right, it wasn’t where I needed to be.” She smiles and gives me a friendly little nuzzle just under my left ear. “I needed to trust Celestia. I needed to come back, meet the rest of my friends, and just have this wonderful life.”

Author's Note

I have no further plans in the near future, but I'm not satisfied or done with the ideas of this story and will eventually revisit it.